The Dying Islands of Tokyo Needs to Revive Themselves through Better Self-Promotion
When one thinks of Tokyo, dense, crowded streets full of neon lights and skyscrapers probably come to mind. And for the central parts of the metropolis, that image is more or less true. But people, even those who are born and bred in the city, tend to forget that Tokyo actually extends hundreds of kilometers to the south, to the Izu and Ogasawara island chains where sparsely populated and little-visited islands can be found. Life on these islands cannot be any more different from downtown Tokyo and perhaps anywhere on "mainland" Japan.
Even on Izu Island, the biggest and most geographically proximate to the mainland of all islands in the Ogasawara island chain, life can be painfully slow for those used to the hustle and bustle of the big city of which it is nominally a part. Taken-for-granted conveniences such as 24-hour shops and restaurants are nowhere to be seen and Tokyo's efficient public transport system makes no appearances. As shops all close by 7pm, the island's unlighted narrow streets empty of cars and people, as people huddle in their home for the standard nightlife of watching TV and cooking.
In terms of life rhythms, then, places like Izu islands share much more with that of the poorest in rural Africa rather than urbanites in Tokyo. And similar life rhythms likely also led to a somewhat similar mentality. One of the most obvious is a longing for the outside world. Izu island is home to 8000 people, with little business presence and no university. Ambitious youths on the island, like those in rural Africa, have little choice for upward social mobility than to head to the big cities of the Japanese mainland. Few of the youths come back to the island for anything but family visits and perhaps retirement.
The other similar mentality is a distinct suspicion of outsiders. Izu island, just like rural African villages, is home to a tight-knit community in which every person is probably separated from every other in third or fourth degree of separation. Those that do not belong in the local social network can be immediately picked out from the crowd and subject to close examination. The "we" against "them" mentality o prevalent among Africans are also discreetly on display as locals try to keep a distance from the "mainlanders" and foreign tourists swarming the island in summer vacation seasons.
The combination of depopulation as ambitious youths move away, and a reflexive distancing of non-islanders put the offshore islands of Tokyo in a rather difficult place with regard to directions of their future development. With little in terms of industry, the islands need to rely on tourism to have any reliable chance of becoming less reliant on public spending (in essence subsidies from the Tokyo Municipal Government), but the islanders' suspicions of non-islanders make it difficult for tourists arriving to expect warm welcomes and very Japanese style of "omotenashi" service attitude.
The difficulty of attracting tourists also stem from high costs and lack of marketing. Ferry costs some 60 USD one way from Tokyo. The same price, if converted to a budget airline flight ticket bought months in advance, can take the person from Tokyo across the country or even neighboring ones. Tourist guides rarely advertise Ogasawara islands as pristine getaways so close to the capital, making few people willing to spend so much money transporting themselves to a place that they hear so little about. The public perception of the islands is stuck at "middle-of-nowhere that is expensive to get to."
It is a shame, though, that the public is so clueless about the beauty of the islands. Despite being so close to Tokyo, the temperature is noticeably cooler and climate so much less humid. As a weekend getaway from Tokyo, the islands have everything that an urbanite would want: mountains, beaches, crisp clean air, and fresh local produce. Instead, today, they are likely to skip Ogasawara, seeking out the same by going as far as Okinawa, where massive crowds have undoubtedly led to a level of commercialization and high prices unseen on Izu island.
For the few public servants from Tokyo that had the fortune to move to the island for work, many have fallen in love with it and decided to buy houses there for more permanent stays. The attractiveness of the islands, for vacationing and living, is certainly there, especially for those tired of the stress and crowds of the big city. Projecting such laid-back nature is the islands' best shot at reviving their dying economies and declining populations. Going about it would first require the islanders to abandon their suspicions of outsiders and actively market the place to become a more accessible, popular destination.
Even on Izu Island, the biggest and most geographically proximate to the mainland of all islands in the Ogasawara island chain, life can be painfully slow for those used to the hustle and bustle of the big city of which it is nominally a part. Taken-for-granted conveniences such as 24-hour shops and restaurants are nowhere to be seen and Tokyo's efficient public transport system makes no appearances. As shops all close by 7pm, the island's unlighted narrow streets empty of cars and people, as people huddle in their home for the standard nightlife of watching TV and cooking.
In terms of life rhythms, then, places like Izu islands share much more with that of the poorest in rural Africa rather than urbanites in Tokyo. And similar life rhythms likely also led to a somewhat similar mentality. One of the most obvious is a longing for the outside world. Izu island is home to 8000 people, with little business presence and no university. Ambitious youths on the island, like those in rural Africa, have little choice for upward social mobility than to head to the big cities of the Japanese mainland. Few of the youths come back to the island for anything but family visits and perhaps retirement.
The other similar mentality is a distinct suspicion of outsiders. Izu island, just like rural African villages, is home to a tight-knit community in which every person is probably separated from every other in third or fourth degree of separation. Those that do not belong in the local social network can be immediately picked out from the crowd and subject to close examination. The "we" against "them" mentality o prevalent among Africans are also discreetly on display as locals try to keep a distance from the "mainlanders" and foreign tourists swarming the island in summer vacation seasons.
The combination of depopulation as ambitious youths move away, and a reflexive distancing of non-islanders put the offshore islands of Tokyo in a rather difficult place with regard to directions of their future development. With little in terms of industry, the islands need to rely on tourism to have any reliable chance of becoming less reliant on public spending (in essence subsidies from the Tokyo Municipal Government), but the islanders' suspicions of non-islanders make it difficult for tourists arriving to expect warm welcomes and very Japanese style of "omotenashi" service attitude.
The difficulty of attracting tourists also stem from high costs and lack of marketing. Ferry costs some 60 USD one way from Tokyo. The same price, if converted to a budget airline flight ticket bought months in advance, can take the person from Tokyo across the country or even neighboring ones. Tourist guides rarely advertise Ogasawara islands as pristine getaways so close to the capital, making few people willing to spend so much money transporting themselves to a place that they hear so little about. The public perception of the islands is stuck at "middle-of-nowhere that is expensive to get to."
It is a shame, though, that the public is so clueless about the beauty of the islands. Despite being so close to Tokyo, the temperature is noticeably cooler and climate so much less humid. As a weekend getaway from Tokyo, the islands have everything that an urbanite would want: mountains, beaches, crisp clean air, and fresh local produce. Instead, today, they are likely to skip Ogasawara, seeking out the same by going as far as Okinawa, where massive crowds have undoubtedly led to a level of commercialization and high prices unseen on Izu island.
For the few public servants from Tokyo that had the fortune to move to the island for work, many have fallen in love with it and decided to buy houses there for more permanent stays. The attractiveness of the islands, for vacationing and living, is certainly there, especially for those tired of the stress and crowds of the big city. Projecting such laid-back nature is the islands' best shot at reviving their dying economies and declining populations. Going about it would first require the islanders to abandon their suspicions of outsiders and actively market the place to become a more accessible, popular destination.
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