Being Godzilla in Tokyo

I walked alone in the streets of Tokyo, like a benign Godzilla without the sharp teeth. Everywhere I went, people stopped in their tracks and stared at the six-foot-five gaijin. I did a “smile and wave” like the penguins in Madagascar movie, and started humming on the song “Big in Japan” by Alphaville.

Godzilla passing through Harajuku. Move along.

After deciphering the glyphs of the subway map I soon found myself in Shibuya and walked across the famous crossing, the busiest pedestrian walkway in the world. To say that I stood out from the crowd would be the understatement of the year. I am the domino brick, hear me roar.

Tokyo subway map. Clear as mud.

I went up to Starbucks on second floor and got a window seat facing the crossing, where I had an espresso while trying to study the map in my worn Lonely Planet. But I couldn’t stop staring at the mesmerizing crossing below. A constant sea of humanity in an ever-changing pattern.

People are people at the busy Shibuya crossing.

Just a few subway stops to the north, Shinjuku feels like another world. The west side consists of tall skyscrapers, clean but boring. I tried to sneak into some of the cool buildings including the Cocoon, but the security guards unfortunately spotted me from a mile away (surprise). They kindly advised me to talk to the hand, Godzilla be damned.

I soon grew bored at seeing the immaculate palms of security, so after an extremely black Brazilian coffee at Pronto I decided to explore the eastern part of Shinjuku as the sun set. This is a completely different story from the stern west side, since it is Tokyo’s liveliest night spot and the location of the notorious district Kabukicho. I walked along the neon-drenched street of Yasukuni-dori Ave, where Bill Murray’s character arrived by taxi in the first scenes of Lost in Translation, and dived headfirst into the maze of small alleys.

Passing through a noisy Pachinko hall in eastern Shinjuku. Imagine the smell.

This is the Tokyo I was looking for. A shotgun blast of neon, Pachinko and caffeine-fueled chaos. An full-blown assault on your senses. The only thing missing was a large Atari neon sign and a bit of rain to make my Blade Runner fantasy complete.

There are dodgy places found in every nook and cranny in Kabukicho. I passed through noisy Pachinko halls and dodged into a Manga Kissa, where people rent booths to read manga, browse the internet and occasionally take a nap.

The seedy underbelly of Kabukicho includes the Golden Gai area, where I quickly discovered that there are lots of places that don’t want foreigners to enter their crammed spaces. A tall moody stranger dressed in black, what could possibly go wrong?

I tried to immerse myself in their culture, but it felt very clear that I don’t belong there. Everyone was very polite and “irrashaimasse” is hanging in the air as soon as they see me on the horizon, but as a gaijin one is forever doomed to be left outside their secrets. Especially if you’re tall enough to bust your head into their delicate ceiling ornaments.