Birth of Osaka

Why do you travel?
How would you answer this simple question?

For the past several years I have been moving through every part of Japan while contemplating the essence of tourism. The voices that seek a uniform shared experience mediated by social media still hold persistent influence. At the same time it is also true that there are travelers who feel discomfort with that mainstream, and one must not speak of them simply as tourists.

In Japan, traveling to various places to see and learn is called [観光] (Kanko). The term derives from a passage in the Chinese I Ching that reads [観国之光 利用賓于王]. It loosely translates to observing the light of the country, the society, and the people one visits, and learning from it as a guest from elsewhere. To observe the light is at the same time to observe the shadow. One must not lean too far toward either side, and the traveler is required to exercise self restraint and respect for others and other countries.

Placing the thought of yin and yang at the foundation of travel, and bringing oneself into the middle within the streets one has come to. Through this practice one acquires genuine learning, unlike the self serving traveler of the present age. The original meaning of Kanko is learning, not unilateral consumption.

What one learns will differ from person to person. It varies according to each person’s nature, and it must not be swayed by the discourse of others. The original Kanko is input, but it always presupposes output. Output is often misunderstood. It is not posting travel photographs to social media.

After the journey ends and you return to the country, the society, the community, and the relationships in which you live, you take what you have learned and put it into practice in pursuit of a better future. This is the essence of Kanko.

Earlier this year I was approached by people in the tourism industry who had reached an impasse and were looking for ideas to think about “the next form of tourism.” Centered on the Kansai region, I have been making new proposals. The foundation I work from is the essence of Kanko described above, and it differs from the conventional perspective that pursues “numbers” such as visitor counts and sales figures.

For example, the major tourist areas of Osaka where I myself live, including Namba, Shinsaibashi, Umeda, and Shinsekai, were historically beneath the sea. Almost every tourist visits these districts, but the real Osaka is not there.

Here I want to look at the flow generally narrated in the founding history of Osaka, from my own angle.