About PSPINC and Japan

Iki and Yabo: Two Opposite Ways of Living in Japan

 

When people think of traditional Japanese values, words like samurai, zen, or wa (harmony) often come to mind. But in old Edo (modern-day Tokyo), there was another important concept that shaped everyday life: iki (粋).

 

Iki is difficult to translate into English. It is often described as elegance, sophistication, or stylishness, but it means much more than simply dressing well. An iki person is someone who has confidence without arrogance, generosity without showing off, and refinement without being pretentious.

 

For example, a wealthy person who quietly helps others without seeking recognition would be considered iki. A person who wears simple clothing but pays attention to small details may also be seen as iki. The key is subtlety and self-control.

 

The opposite of iki is yabo (野暮). A yabo person boasts about money, talks too much, asks inappropriate questions, or tries too hard to impress others. In Edo culture, being called yabo was not a compliment.

 

What makes iki fascinating is that it is not about wealth or social status. It is about how you carry yourself and how you treat others. Even today, many Japanese people admire those who act with quiet confidence and consideration rather than drawing attention to themselves.

 

In a world where social media often rewards self-promotion, the Edo concept of iki reminds us that sometimes the most impressive people are the ones who do not need to tell everyone how impressive they are.

Even Japanese People Sometimes Can't Tell a Temple from a Shrine

Yesterday, I visited Toyokawa Inari Tokyo Betsuin, which is just a short walk from my hotel in Tokyo.

 

For years, I assumed Toyokawa Inari was a Shinto shrine—something like a Tokyo branch of the famous Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto. After all, it has torii gates, countless fox statues, and the word Inari in its name. What else could it be?

 

Well, I was wrong.

 

To my surprise, Toyokawa Inari is actually a Buddhist temple, not a Shinto shrine. Its official name is Myogonji Temple, a Soto Zen temple. The deity worshipped there is Toyokawa Dakini Shinten, a Buddhist guardian deity that became closely associated with Inari worship over the centuries.

 

No wonder I was confused.

 

In fact, I was so convinced it was a shrine that I performed the traditional Shinto prayer ritual: two bows, two claps, and one bow. Only later did I learn that Buddhist temples generally do not use clapping during prayer.

 

Oops.

 

Was that a problem? I hope not.

 

But honestly, if a place has torii gates and foxes everywhere, can you really blame me? Apparently, even Japanese people can have trouble telling the difference between a shrine and a temple when history, Buddhism, and Shinto traditions have blended together for centuries.

 

That's one of the fascinating things about Japan. The lines between Buddhism and Shintoism are sometimes much less clear than people imagine.

 

So yesterday I learned something new: Toyokawa Inari was not a shrine after all. And yes, I accidentally prayed the wrong way at a Buddhist temple. Fortunately, I think sincerity matters more than technique.

A Small Touch of Japanese Hospitality

 

Tonight, when I returned to my room at Hotel New Otani in Tokyo, I found that it had been turned down for the evening. Waiting on the table was a small note from the housekeeping staff along with a delicate origami paper crane.

 

The note included tomorrow's weather forecast for June 15: a low of 17°C, a high of 20°C, and a 60% chance of rain. At the end, it simply said:

 

"Welcome home. Please enjoy the night."

 

The message itself was printed on a prepared form rather than handwritten, but it was still a very thoughtful gesture.

 

Over the past several years, I have stayed in many business hotels in Japan and abroad. Most are efficient, clean, and comfortable. However, little touches like this have become increasingly rare. Taking the time to prepare a weather forecast, fold an origami crane, and leave a welcoming message adds a personal touch that technology cannot replace.

 

This is the kind of hospitality Japan is known for—attention to detail, thoughtfulness, and genuine care for the guest experience. It is not about luxury; it is about making someone feel welcome.

 

Many modern hotels focus on efficiency, but small gestures like this remind guests that hospitality is still about people.

A $6 Tempura Lunch in the Heart of Tokyo

Today I stopped by Tenya at Akasaka Mitsuke for lunch. My meal was a tempura set that cost just 930 yen—about $6 USD at current exchange rates. The price included tax, and of course, there was no tipping.

 

As someone who spends much of the year in the United States, I still find it amazing that you can sit down in central Tokyo and enjoy a freshly prepared meal for this price. The tempura was hot, crispy, and served within minutes. Nothing fancy, just good food done well.

 

Akasaka Mitsuke is one of Tokyo's busy business districts, surrounded by office buildings, hotels, restaurants, and government offices. Yet even in such a prime location, a satisfying lunch can cost less than many fast-food meals in America.

 

Of course, a lot of this has to do with the current exchange rate. The Japanese yen remains relatively weak against the U.S. dollar, making Japan feel even more affordable for visitors. However, even if the exchange rate were 100 yen to the dollar, this same lunch would still cost only $9.30. Finding a freshly prepared tempura meal in the middle of a major business district for under ten dollars would be difficult in many American cities.

 

People often ask why visitors love Japan so much. One reason is simple: quality, convenience, cleanliness, and value still exist here. A clean restaurant, polite service, and a filling tempura lunch for 930 yen remind me that Japan continues to offer some of the best everyday dining experiences in the world.

Japan's Simple Fitness Secret

Sunday, June 14, 2026, started early for me. I left my parents' house in Ashiya and took the Shinkansen to Tokyo. One of the great things about Japan is how easy it is to travel between cities. In just a few hours, I went from the relaxed atmosphere of Kansai to the energy of Tokyo.

 

I arrived early, so before checking into my hotel, I spent some time sightseeing. Tokyo is a city I've visited many times, but there is always something new to discover. By the time I checked into my hotel around 3:00 p.m., I was ready for a short rest.

 

Then I looked at my Apple Watch and noticed I had already walked more than 10,000 steps.

 

Yoshiwara Shrine – A Shrine for One of Japan’s Oldest Businesses

Near Tokyo's famous Otori Shrine stands Yoshiwara Shrine, a shrine with a unique history.

 

During the Edo period, Yoshiwara was Japan's most famous licensed pleasure district. Like merchants, fishermen, and craftsmen who had their own guardian deities, the people of Yoshiwara also established shrines and prayed for prosperity, safety, health, and good fortune.

 

Over time, several small shrines within the district were merged into today's Yoshiwara Shrine.

 

It is a reminder that even one of the world's oldest professions had its own shrine, faith, traditions, and community. Today, the shrine quietly preserves a fascinating chapter of Tokyo's history.

Two of Kobe’s Great Shrines: Minatogawa Shrine and Ikuta Shrine

 

During my visit to Kobe, I had the opportunity to stop by two of the city’s most important Shinto shrines: Minatogawa Shrine and Ikuta Shrine. While both are deeply respected, they represent very different parts of Japanese history and culture.

 

Minatogawa Shrine (湊川神社), affectionately known as Nanko-san, is dedicated to Kusunoki Masashige, one of Japan’s most admired samurai. The shrine was established in 1872 near the site of the Battle of Minatogawa, where Kusunoki gave his life in service to Emperor Go-Daigo. For many Japanese, he symbolizes loyalty, courage, and self-sacrifice.

 

Ikuta Shrine (生田神社) is much older. With a history of approximately 1,800 years, it is considered one of Japan’s oldest shrines. Located in the heart of Sannomiya, it is dedicated to Wakahirume-no-Mikoto, a deity associated with relationships, connections, prosperity, and renewal. In fact, the name "Kobe" itself is said to be derived from the ancient families who served and protected this shrine.

 

What struck me most was how these two shrines reflect different sides of Japan. Minatogawa Shrine honors duty and sacrifice, while Ikuta Shrine celebrates life, relationships, and community. One looks back to a heroic moment in history; the other has quietly watched over Kobe for nearly two millennia.

 

One thing many visitors from the West find surprising is that Japanese people are generally not religious in the Western sense. Regular attendance at religious services is uncommon, and many people do not identify strongly with a particular religion. Yet at the same time, the idea that spiritual beings, or kami (gods), exist throughout nature and daily life remains deeply rooted in Japanese culture.

 

These gods are not limited to shrines. They can be found in mountains, rivers, ancient trees, rocks, homes, businesses, and even in the tools people use. Shrines simply provide places where people can pay their respects, express gratitude, and seek blessings. This unique view of spirituality helps explain why Japan can be both highly modern and deeply connected to traditions that stretch back thousands of years.

 

If you ever visit Kobe, I highly recommend seeing both shrines. Together, they tell a fascinating story about Japan’s values, history, and spiritual traditions.

The Japanese Spirit of Gratitude and Loyalty

 

When people think about Japanese values, four important concepts often appear together: On (恩), Giri (義理), Ongaeshi (恩返し), and Chugi (忠義). While each word has its own meaning, they form a chain of thought that has influenced Japanese society for centuries.

 

Interestingly, these words and ideas originally came from China through Confucian teachings and classical literature. However, after arriving in Japan, they gradually evolved over many centuries and became uniquely Japanese in their interpretation and application. Today, the Japanese understanding of these concepts differs significantly from their original Chinese meanings.

 

It begins with On, which means a favor, kindness, or benefit received from someone else. In Japan, there is a strong awareness that no one succeeds alone. We are helped by our parents, teachers, friends, employers, and communities. This creates a deep sense of gratitude.

 

That gratitude leads to Giri, often translated as duty or obligation. When someone helps you, there is a feeling that you should not simply accept the favor and forget it. You should acknowledge it and respond appropriately.

 

The action of returning that kindness is called Ongaeshi, or repaying a favor. One of Japan’s most famous folktales, The Crane’s Return of a Favor, is built around this idea. Ongaeshi is more than a transaction—it is a sincere expression of appreciation.

 

Finally comes Chugi, or loyalty. While Ongaeshi may be a single act, Chugi is a long-term commitment. It means remaining faithful to those who have supported you, whether they are family, friends, an organization, or even a cause you believe in.

 

In simple terms:

 

Receive kindness (On), feel responsibility (Giri), repay it (Ongaeshi), and remain loyal (Chugi).

 

These ideas have shaped Japanese culture for generations and continue to influence personal relationships, business practices, and community life today. They remind us that gratitude is not just a feeling—it is something that should be expressed through actions and sustained through loyalty over time. In many ways, these values are among the foundations of what makes Japanese society uniquely Japanese.

Yebisu Shrine: Nishinomiya Jinja – The God of Business Success

 

When people think of Japanese shrines, they often think of places to pray for health, safety, or good fortune. But for business owners, entrepreneurs, and merchants, one shrine stands above all others: Nishinomiya Jinja in Hyogo Prefecture.

 

Known affectionately as “Ebessan,” Nishinomiya Jinja is the head shrine of more than 3,500 Ebisu shrines throughout Japan. It is dedicated to Ebisu, the Shinto deity of prosperity, commerce, fishing, and honest hard work. For centuries, business people have visited this shrine to pray for success and growth in their enterprises.

 

Every January, the shrine hosts the famous Toka Ebisu Festival, attracting more than one million visitors. The highlight is the unique “Lucky Man Race” (Fukuotoko Erabi), where participants sprint from the shrine gate to the main hall to become the year's first worshippers and earn the title of "Lucky Man."

 

What makes Ebisu especially popular is that he is considered a practical god. Unlike many deities associated with war or nobility, Ebisu represents the common merchant, fisherman, and entrepreneur. He reminds us that prosperity comes from diligence, integrity, and serving others well.

 

As the founder of a business myself, I find the message of Ebisu timeless. Success rarely comes from luck alone. It comes from consistent effort, taking care of customers, and building trust over many years. Perhaps that is why so many Japanese business owners continue to visit Nishinomiya Jinja year after year.

 

Whether you are starting a new company, growing an existing one, or simply hoping for a prosperous future, a visit to Nishinya Jinja offers both inspiration and a connection to a tradition that has supported Japanese commerce for over a thousand years.

A Frog in a Well Knows Nothing of the Ocean

 

One of my favorite Japanese sayings is:

 

"A frog in a well knows nothing of the ocean."
(I no naka no kawazu taikai wo shirazu – 井の中の蛙大海を知らず)

 

The image is simple. A frog lives its entire life in a small well. Looking up, it can see the sky and the walls around it. To that frog, the well is the whole world. It has no idea that beyond the well lies a vast ocean.

 

This proverb reminds us that our knowledge and experiences are often limited by our surroundings. When we stay within our comfort zone, we may believe that our way of thinking is the only correct way. We may assume that what works in our town, company, or country must work everywhere.

 

Travel, meeting people from different cultures, and learning new ideas help us climb out of our own wells. The more we experience the world, the more we realize how much we do not know. That realization is not a weakness—it is the beginning of wisdom.

 

As someone who has lived and worked in both Japan and the United States, I have often discovered that there are many different ways to solve the same problem. What seems obvious in one culture may be completely different in another.

 

The lesson of this proverb is simple: never stop learning, never assume you know everything, and always be willing to look beyond the walls of your own well. The ocean is much larger than we imagine.