Japanese Slang (2 page)

Another swift way of replenishing a criminal lingo's lexicon was to bring in provincial dialect words. In Japan, vocabulary, speech patterns, and accents are liable to change from one village to the next, which guarantees that any novel words brought in from distant provinces will nonplus even the most cunning eavesdropper.
Eri o tsukeru,
for instance, to the untrained Japanese ear means “to wear a collar.” But in Tokyo's breaking-and-entering circles, it came to mean “picking locks,” an expression that trickled down to the big city from northeastern Japan.
Sanpira
(lock) and
geri
(widget) are reputed to have been borrowed from Wakayama dialects, while
pika
(to flick open a switchblade) came from the Yamaguchi dialect.

The dialect words have made their strongest impact on red-light speech. Sexual organs from every corner of Japan have managed to make their way down into metropolitan sex bars, brothels, bathhouses, and massage parlors. An interesting twist ofJapanese semantics which has brought many a brothel conversation to a screeching halt, is that what is the word for a female organ in one part of a province might turn into a testicle a few miles down the road, and then a few miles further down become a penis.

I had originally planned
Japanese Slang Uncensored
as a tough, reveal-it-all sequel to my first language book,
Japanese Street Slang.
My intention had been to reveal more of these tough forbidden street words that could never slither under the blocks of a self-respecting printing press. But as I continued moving down in Japanese society from interview to interview, I became fascinated with what my word suppliers did for a living. The deeper I slipped, the stronger the speakers' personality and modus vivendi shone through the words. Making a dazzling list of alphabetized taboo terms might be fun and linguistically rewarding, but I realized that in order to really get to the roots of the slang I would also have to dig down to the social foundation of the group I was listening to.

As I began writing
Japanese Slang Uncensored
I became increasingly convinced that the strongest slang would pale if it were not presented along with its speakers. I decided to use these secret, “hidden words” to reveal the shadowy sections of Japanese society that few upstanding Japanese and even fewer Westerners ever have the opportunity to explore.

1
Japanese Thieves

IN THE darker corners of Japan's street scene, till tappers, pickpockets, heistmen, and bank crackers are tightly knit, along with thieves of every description, into a web of underworld associations and networks. Age-old street hierarchies still prevail, and modern Japanese thieves, much like modern Japanese businessmen, are classed according to their experience, track record, age—and whom they know. Some criminal corporations are rich; their
eriito
(elite) or top executives govern ten, twenty, and even thirty city blocks with an iron fist. Other groups are shoddy and small and work out of a street or alley, snatching handbags,lifting wallets, and stripping cars. But whatever their rank or affiliation, professional purloiners would be outraged should they be referred to as
dorob
(thieves),
sett
(larcenists),
g
t
(burglars), or
oihagi
(robbers).

•   
Agari da'tte, tondemo n
! Ore wa akainu daze!
Me, a riser? No way! I'm a red dog!
(Me, climb into houses? No way! I'm an arsonist!)

Newcomers to the Japanese street soon realize that
thieves come in two sizes: the
shinobikomi,
“those who enter crawling” (smooth criminals who work with circumspection), and the
odorikomi,
“those who enter dancing” (brash criminals with guns). While successful dancers are applauded for their devil-may-care recklessness, the experienced crawler is admired for the light-fingered strategy with which he or she will calculate a heist. A house is chosen, inhabitants watched, police movements in the neighborhood monitored, and locks and alarm systems studied. When a crawler finally moves in on his target he carefully accounts for the weather, the time, and the presence or absence of a victim.

Crawling

In classical criminal slang an unattended house full of choice loot was referred to as
akisu
(empty nest), and “crawling” thieves who specialized in these houses were secretly known as
akisunerai
(empty-nest targeters). But the police uncovered the word, adopted it, and soon began using it in official reports.
Akisunerai
spread like wild fire. It was snatched up by newspapers, detective novels, gangster movies, cartoons, and finally even dictionaries.

With
akisunerai
flushed out of hiding, new code words appeared on the streets. Empty houses were rebaptized
nukesu
(void nests),
nuke
for short, and
ai
(chance). Tokyo's Korean gangsters introduced their own exotic word,
hotsuraiki.
The more theatrical thieves took to calling their empty houses
butai
(stage). A sneak thief, they argued, could always guarantee a
spectacular entry, a breathtaking performance, and a dashing exit. Some gangs took the thespian idea even further and began referring to breaking and entering as
butai o fumu
(stepping onto the stage) and even
butai e kamaru
(barging onto the stage).

•   
Yappa shu
ni sankai ij
butai o fumu mon ja nai yo—tama n'ya rerakkusu shin
to.
You know I really wouldn't step on stage more than three times a week—one has to relax too, you know.

•   
Aitsu ga butai o funda no wa, are ga saigo datta no sa.
That was the last time he stepped onto the stage.

•   
Aitsu ja butai e kamaru'tte koto ga d
y
koto nan no ka chitto mo wakatcha in
!
He really has no idea what barging onto the stage is all about!