Visitors Beware: Be Sure to Lock Up Your Shoes

Is Japan the safest and most security-obsessed country in the world? Visitors might think so when touring the country. Does it look different when you live here? Let's see.

Japan's countryside is so safe that when going shopping, I leave the keys in the car with valuables on the dashboard. I don't recommend it to others; it's just what I do. I even add temptation in the summer by leaving all the windows down.

Partly, I get away with this because I drive a cheap car. Used cars are inexpensive, and I buy beaters that probably wouldn't be worth the criminal's effort. But I also just trust Japan. I don't even know the Japanese word for grand theft auto.

When I was single, I frequently left my apartment door unlocked, occasionally (by accident) even on overnight trips. Since then, my wife, who is Japanese, has guilted me into changing by imploring me to consider our 2-year-old son's safety.

Watch Out for Monkeys

Granted, I was burned once. After leaving my Airbnb unlocked, I returned to find bags of dried rice ripped open, peanuts on the roof, and banana peels on the deck. Strangely, my laptop lay untouched. Being within walking distance of Jigokudani Snow Monkey Park, a rogue monkey had opened the front door (yes, they have learned), helping himself to the dry goods.

Even now, I warn Airbnb guests to lock the doors and windows when leaving the house to avoid raids. Animals are genuinely a bigger security concern than humans.

Like my wife, I find that Japanese people are consistently paranoid about security and believe the country is more dangerous than I perceive it. I may have a skewed worldview after living in Africa and traveling worldwide. Or Japan's safety baseline is so high that any bad news instantly sways public opinion.

Whatever the reason, Japanese security obsession plays out in interesting ways and is inseparable from Japanese culture.

Watch Out for Shoe Lockers

Visit most chain Izakaya establishments, and the first thing you encounter is a giant floor-to-ceiling locking shoe box. The idea is to prevent people from stealing your shoes while dining.

When encountering these shoe lockers, I always think, "Who would want someone's used shoes?" And, "If you did steal the shoes, wouldn't you have to leave your own pair behind?"

To give credit, I believe restaurants provide shoe lockers to prevent drunk people from taking the wrong shoes by accident. In this case, precaution seems reasonable, if only to thwart drunk people.

Here, I have another personal anecdote. Once, when staying in a high-end ryokan, I checked out and prepared to lace my hiking boots. To my surprise, they had vanished from the open shoe cabinet. To this day, I don't know if someone stole them or mistakenly took them. However, the establishment was kind enough to replace the pair. They may have installed a locking shoe cabinet since then.

A similar situation occurs when visiting a hot spring onsen. Typically, there are lockers to place clothes and valuables while bathing. Sometimes, they cost money, and sometimes, the ¥100 coin returns when opened.

Given my libertarian perspective on security, I typically consider onsen lockers overkill. Will senior citizens or people relaxing on their day off really go to the effort of stealing my dirty clothes? Locking up valuables makes sense. I'm sure it happens, but Japan makes theft seem far-fetched.

The Internet Banking Password

To access my company's Internet banking site, no fewer than five steps are involved. First, I input a 10-digit number printed on a card. Next, the system requires a 4-digit PIN and a 6-digit login password. After clicking next, it takes me to a confirmation number with random digits that must be input in the correct order. Finally, I receive a one-time password valid for less than a minute before being granted access.

I am no cyber security expert, but what happened to facial recognition and the "remember my password" button? For Japanese banks, it doesn't exist.

Nosy Apartment Camera

Every newer apartment building in Japan has a camera system to view who approaches during the day. While I understand wanting to see who is knocking, my wife looks through the footage to see if any suspicious people have visited throughout the day. I think, "Nothing happened, so why bother checking?" However, to ensure that no suspicious person has approached, she assiduously checks daily.

Happiest Drunk People

For the best evidence of how safe Japan is, look no further than its drunkards. Saturday nights in Shibuya are crazy, but unlike other places, the inebriated do not have a care in the world. Many miraculously make it home, while some sleep on park benches or wake up at an unknown train station. Almost universally, their valuables are still with them ー something I could not guarantee anywhere else.

My friend is a great example. One night, he awoke in a subway station with no phone, keys, or wallet. Hurrying to the station attendant, thankfully someone had turned in his keys and wallet, with all of the cash intact.

His phone was missing, but returning subsequently, he found it under a bench where he forgot to look. Sometimes, you really can leave a wallet on the street, and it will still be there the next day.

Absent-Minded Outcomes

One of the best parts of living in Japan is the sense of peace that comes with safety. You can leave a wallet in your back pocket or place a bag on a seat without worrying about someone swiping it. You can let your guard down and relax because bad things rarely happen.

*Train seat pocket with wallet and notes. (©Daniel Moore)*

I love traveling internationally, but I must remind myself to be on guard. Getting accustomed to Japan lulls you into a false sense of security that can be dangerous in other places. Japanese call this heiwa boke, or the absent-mindedness of peace.

I still don't know if Japan's obsession with security is correlation or causation. Maybe it's safe because people are so vigilant, or maybe it's safe already and people are excessively worried. Either way, Japan is a nice place to live because it is secure.

Here is a final anecdote. While writing this article, I traveled on the Shinkansen and forgot a pouch with money and receipts in the seat pocket. I called the station several times over the next few days, but the pouch failed to show up, and I thought I would have to rewrite this entire article. Lo and behold, though, one week later, I received a call from the police. Through a receipt with my name on it, they had tracked down my address and contacted my local city office.

While I consider myself lucky and don’t want to repeat my mistake, the fact that money returns with its entire contents really is a pleasant part of traveling or living in Japan.

When you visit, please be vigilant and don’t forget your belongings, even though sometimes just being in Japan makes you forget.

Author: Daniel Moore

Learn more about the wild and wonderful sides of Japan through Daniel's essays.