bestor interview p 2
 
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Authentic Voices:
Conversations on Food and Agriculture

 
Dr. Ted Bestor

Bringing Home the Sushi: Food as a way of understanding each other's livelihoods

Interview with Theodore C. Bestor
Professor
Department of Anthropology and Reischauer Institute for Japanese Studies
Chair of the Social Anthropology Wing, Department of Anthropology
Harvard University

By Norma Sakamoto-Larzalere
October 28, 2004

 

Theodore C. Bestor is Professor of Anthropology and Japanese Studies at Harvard University, and is past president of the American Anthropological Association’s East Asian Studies Section and the Society for Urban Anthropology. His many publications include: “Neighborhood Tokyo” (1989),” Doing Fieldwork in Japan” (co-editor, 2003), and his most recent, “Tsukiji: The Fish Market at the Center of the World” (2004). His current research looks at the development of Japanese food culture and his ongoing project on “Global Sushi” examines the “global reach” of Japanese seafood markets, their impact on markets and fish industries, and the popularity of sushi and other types of Japanese foods..

1. Background

2. Neighborhood Tokyo: Miyamoto-cho

3. Tokyo's Tsukiji: The Fish Market and the Center of the World

4. Japanese Food Culture: Looking at Sushi as a Japanese Food and Icon

5. Issues of Food Safety and Hygiene

6. Lessons to be Learned from the Field: Linking Kansas with Japan

7. Concluding Thoughts

Neighborhood Tokyo: Miyamoto-chô

L: We are moving ahead in time--your dissertation became the award-winning 1989 book, "Neighborhood Tokyo." Could you tell us first how you came to choose "Miyamoto-chô"?

B: Well, because I had the experience of living in Tokyo before, I kind of had this intuitive sense that urban communities were interesting places. I didn't have a particular place in mind but I wanted to find an area somewhere off the beaten track. Not a busy urban center but a quiet backwater neighborhood. I wanted to find a place that didn't have anything particularly special about it. Nothing famous--no landmarks--nothing that someone would go out of their way to come and see. So that the neighborhood really contained things that were by and for the people of that community. And that sort of cut it down to 10,000 neighborhoods.

Fundamentally, it was by accident and good luck. My wife and I were staying with a friend of ours who happened to have some extra space. He and his family let us stay for a couple of weeks while we were searching around to find a spot for research. We talked to him over dinner about what we were interested in and finally he said, " You know, sounds like you're talking about the kind of neighborhood I grew up in. Why don't you go look at this place?"

He gave us directions and gave us some introductions; we went walking around an spent a couple of afternoons looking around and went, "Oh, yeah, this very . . . [is what were looking for]. It's remarkably difficult to say, "I'm looking for an ordinary place." I mean, nobody wants to say, "We're ordinary." And it's very hard to define what ordinary is. So finding an ordinary place was really tricky. But in any case, through the good offices of our friend, we ended up being introduced to this neighborhood and looked around and very quickly decided this was the right kind of place.

L: And the key was this idea of networks, right?

B: I wanted to do research in a neighborhood where people had some degree of connection with one another. They weren't just commuting strangers. Where people interacted on a daily basis.

What we ended up doing was renting an apartment over a pharmacy on a shopping street in the middle of the neighborhood. And so, from my apartment window, I could look down and watch the ebb and flow of shopping. The housewives going off in the late afternoon to the local grocery stores and butcher shop, and other stores. And in the morning, the kids going off to school and the husbands going off to offices over there. So we were right in the middle of this little community and had a sense of it ebbing and flowing throughout the day and throughout the year.

L: You had mentioned in some of your articles about mapping the scene and looking for labels as clues for understanding what Miyamoto-chô was all about. Could you elaborate on this and how this applies to your later research on Tsukiji?

B: It works in any community whether it's Japanese or not. The number of things you can understand about a place--just watching the patterns of where people go in the course of a day. How they do different things at different places. To getting a spatial sense of how people spend time. You can get a sense of what is and what is not important to them.

In Japan, perhaps more than in the United States, people kind of do wear their identities on their clothing. The school kids wear little badges that tell what school they go to, what grade they're in, what class they're in. Sometime, even what bus or train they take in commuting to school. Employees of companies wear little badges on their lapels that say what company they're a part of. People in different occupations have different styles of dress.

I became quickly attuned to watching what people were wearing. Looking for all the subtle labels that would give me the idea of who they were and what they did. And also, where would I find, in terms of mapping out spaces, how people use their social time and their social space. Just noticing what kind of people end up in what kind of places.

L: You had mentioned about the community bulletin boards as great sources of information too.

B: Yes, just as if you go into a grocery store in the United States and you spend twenty minutes reading the bulletin board by the checkout counter. You know--there are notices of church lunches, school bazaars, a play that some people are sponsoring, a little league game, people selling used baby furniture--you're not going to learn everything about the community but it gives you a sense of what kinds of things are happening—who’s involved, who’s not.

L: Which is why to do research, for anthropologists, you've got to be there. What were your surprising discoveries about Miyamoto-chô? Things that perhaps you had assumed and then realized otherwise.

B: If I went in with any preconceived notion, they were typical North American notions--that neighborliness is a rural phenomenon--people who live in towns and cities are supposed to be less involved with their neighbors. And certainly in the case of Tokyo, at least at that time, that wasn't the case. So, I suppose one of the things that really surprised me is, the extent to which even in the middle of busy, crowded, highly populated metropolitan area, there is an incredible amount of to-ing and fro-ing between neighbors and people who really know each other's lives quite intimately.

L: And, there is an order to it.

B: Yes, exactly. It’s not chaotic interaction like billiard balls bouncing back and forth but they actually organize their lives around each other's activities. And they are attuned to the rhythms of each other's lives and so forth. In that sense, from a North American perspective, there was a really small town feel even in the middle of Tokyo. People knew their neighbors, knew their neighbors' children.

L: Everyone is in close proximity.

B: Right.


Next: Tokyo's Tsukiji: The Fish Market and the Center of the World