Minutes after arriving in Japan, pretty much the second you leave customs at the airport, you’re likely to encounter your first vending machine, or “jihanki.” A combination of “自販 (jihan)” meaning “self-selling” and “機 (ki)” meaning “machine,” jihankis are everywhere!
My question is: why?!! Why are there so darn many vending machines in Japan? And why do they sell so many weird things?
The simple answer is, Japanese are busy people. As they rush from home to work to school or wherever, Japanese people get thirsty. Why waste time queuing up at a grocery store when you can simply drop a few coins in a vending machine and grab a cold drink on the street corner? Or a hot drink if you prefer, because yes, Japanese jihankis also dispense hot drinks in a can. Hankering for a hot milk coffee or a steaming can of tea? No problem. How about soup? Absolutely. Beer? Alcohol? Yep. Whatever wets your whistle is probably available within the next two blocks.
Just don’t expect to toss your empty in a nearby garbage can. In a country where trash receptacles are scarce, you’re expected to carry your can home with you!
Apart from thirst quenching, Japanese vending machines also offer a certain techie appeal. In a nation fascinated by animatronics, an interaction with a jihanki feels like being served by a robot– especially when the machines light up and talk to you (which sometimes happens).
Having a machine serve you also spares you from the need for human interaction, which can be appealing in a country of ever-present formality. Sometimes, frankly, it’s a relief not having to bow and tailor the courtesy of your language to the person you’re interacting with. Anonymity can be a godsend.
As to why vending machines offer so much weird stuff, your guess is as good as mine. Part of it, I suspect, is simply novelty. Japanese people adore fresh, new, unique items. And because the country is remarkably safe, you can sell pretty much whatever you like in a jihanki without fear of the machine being vandalized.
Perhaps that’s why, on my last trip to Japan, I found machines selling sriracha … machines selling fish sauce (with a stern admonition: “Do not drink. This is soup stock!”) … machines selling fresh-squeezed orange juice like your mom used to make.
And that’s not even the weird stuff.
Somewhere in Japan right now – perhaps in multiple places – you can find the following in a jihanki:
• Raw horse
• Giant spiders
• Fresh cream in a can
• Edible insects
• Bananas (individually and by the bunch)
• Used women’s underwear
• Live goldfish
And that only scratches the surface.
In any other country, those novelty machines would certainly be broken into. Not in Japan. Moreover the locals probably don’t even bat an eye when something insane suddenly appears in a local jihanki.
“Oh, well, that’s different. I was just hankering for an edible cricket. Thank you, Mister Robot.”
(One of the pleasures of traveling in a country like Japan is all the stuff that defies expectations. If you push a door in your own country, chances are you pull it in Japan. If a man opens a door for a woman back at home, it’s the opposite in Japan, where women often open doors for men. You could write a whole book on things that are just backwards in the land of the rising sun. The trick is shifting your mental perspective. Different doesn’t mean worse, or better. It just means different. It means correct for that place. In our ethnocentrism, we often think our way is both the best way and the only way. And of course, that kind of judgment extends to other people even within our own country. “That thing she’s doing is just WRONG!” The key to a happier, more-peaceful world is judging less, accepting differences more.)