Kojo Moe Fans Are Infatuated by Factories; Night Cruise Past Steel Plants
YOKKAICHI, Japan—Armed with expensive and elaborate camera equipment, the tourists excitedly disembarking the charter bus have all the markings of a stereotypical tour group. But they aren't interested in the area's renowned pottery making or its tranquil Shisuian teahouse. They are here to see a giant power plant billowing smoke. (More after the break)
The newest trend in Japanese tourism? Kojo Moe. It means 'Factory Infatuation' and it's the term used to describe people who are thrilled by the aesthetics of industrial factories. WSJ's Daisuke Wakabayashi reports from Japan.
It's the first stop of a sightseeing trip catering to factory fanatics who caravan to Japan's industrial hubs to gawk at the aesthetics of power plants, oil refineries and other smokestack facilities once derided as polluting eyesores.
On a recent bus tour to factory hot spots around this central Japan city, passengers erupted into applause at the sight of circular liquefied natural gas tanks.
"Doesn't that look so amazing against the blue sky," said Naomi Tsukasaki, a 39-year-old saleswoman at an electric-parts maker, who says she goes sightseeing to industrial sites at least once a month.
Moments later, the bus stopped at a railroad crossing, as a train carrying cement rumbled past. Passengers stampeded off the bus to photograph the train with a factory set in the background.
What started as a fringe subculture known as kojo moe, or "factory infatuation," is beginning to gain wider appeal in Japan, turning industrial zones into unlikely tourist attractions. It's the Japanese equivalent of going sightseeing at industrial stretches along the New Jersey Turnpike.
Unlike the tourists who visit the factories of Toyota Motor Corp. and other Japanese manufacturers, the kojo moe crowd has little interest in the inner workings of the plants. They get excited by the maze of intricate piping around the exterior of a steel plant or the cylindrical smokestacks sending up steam.
Due to the central role manufacturing played in Japan's post-war economic boom, the country has lionized monozukuri, or the art of making things, for years. But Japan's prolonged economic slump and the rise of alternative, low-cost Asian manufacturing bases has triggered soul-searching about its national identity and hand-wringing over the "hollowing-out" of its factories.
As Japanese companies move factories overseas, the number of manufacturing facilities with 10 or more staff decreased 21% between 1999 and 2009 to about 126,500 sites in Japan, according to the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry.
For factory towns across Japan, it's a rare foray into tourism. The city of Kawasaki, the gritty neighbor to cosmopolitan Tokyo, started offering bus tours of factory sites last year. Some tours sell out in less than a day, receiving some 400 requests for 40 spots.
Reservations for a nighttime boat cruise around Kawasaki's illuminated chemical factories, steel plants and oil refineries are booked up months in advance. For 4,000 yen per adult—about $48—a vessel resembling a houseboat carries tourists past mammoth, brightly lit factories sending clouds of smoke into the air.
"Most people are shocked to discover that factories can be such beautiful places," said Masakatsu Ozawa, an official in Kawasaki's tourism department. "We want tourists to have an experience for all the senses including that factory smell."
On Christmas night, an event reserved more for romance than family in Japan, the tour was fully booked as young couples cuddled to stay warm in the belly of the boat. Braver ones walked up to the upper deck to view the passing factories in the chilly night air.
"Look at the illumination and imagine they're Christmas lights," said the elderly tour guide.
Kawasaki had tried for years to draw tourists, with little success. Mr. Ozawa said efforts were hampered by its reputation as an industrial hub with contaminated water and polluted air. Then the city discovered a book—titled Kojo Moe—which celebrated its blue-collar reputation. Featuring glossy pictures of rusted factories and billowing smokestacks, the guidebook alerted city officials to an unexpected opportunity.
"If you come to Tokyo, don't bother going to Harajuku," wrote the book's author, Ken Ohyama, about the city's bustling shopping district popular among young Japanese. "The place where you have to go is Kawasaki."
Since 2007, the book has sold more than 30,000 copies and spawned the factory-touring movement. Mr. Ohyama, a 38-year-old former employee at Panasonic Corp., wrote on the book's cover: "For those of you who are mesmerized by factories and production sites, you have friends."
It lists 19 questions to test one's kojo moe credentials, including "Do you like Blade Runner?" and "Can you stare at a factory you like all day long?"
Tapping into online social networks like Twitter, kojo moe has mushroomed into a group with nearly 25,000 followers on Mixi, Japan's equivalent of Facebook.
Now, industrial regions across Japan are working to create factory sightseeing tours. Even the national government is getting in on the act: lawmakers are proposing a change in the law so factories still in operation can qualify for World Heritage site designation and catch the attention of tourists.
Growing up in the industrial outskirts of Tokyo in Chiba prefecture, Mr. Ohyama always found beauty in the bare functionalism of factories.
But in college, he discovered not everyone agreed.
"I was shocked. I always assumed, of course, that everyone thought factories were cool-looking," said Mr. Ohyama, whose bold fashion choices (fluorescent pink jacket with checkered pants) belie his soft speaking style.
Mr. Ohyama's recent tour group of about 40 men and women, mostly in their 20s and 30s, were also fans of doboku, or public works.
During the day's tour, the group encountered a drawbridge where a worker agreed to a demonstration. This set off a frenzy as amateur photographers lay on their stomachs to capture the perfect picture. One woman cooed "now that is a man's job" to the startled bridge operator.
Not everyone is sold. Hiroaki Nakanishi, president of Hitachi Ltd., one of Japan's largest manufacturers, said he is a fan of factory tours and seeing the inside of facilities, but he has never looked at a factory as something beautiful.
"As far as just looking from the outside," said Mr. Nakanishi with a chuckle, "I can't say I don't understand, but I have no real desire to do it."
No comments:
Post a Comment