Osaka
obachan
- they
won't go
quietly

You're not in Osaka long before you notice that women of a certain age
are not half as inhibited as those younger. Perhaps you've been elbowed
by one while trying to get on the JR Loop Line train. Maybe you've witne-
ssed a near-riot about six inches below your nose when a nearby shopkeeper
announces a spot sale on daikon. Or you might have been snapped
at by a carpet-sample dog, stretching out from the basket of a matronly
woman's bicycle to get a bigger morsel of you, while Mistress looks at you
accusingly. Besides experiencing the famous brashness of Osaka, you've
also brushed up against Obachan Culture, and lived to tell the tale.
Obasan simply means aunt in Japanese, but it's used to address any
woman a lot older than yourself (use onésan - elder sister - for women
your age or somewhat older /or when in doubt). Obachan - auntie - is
an affectionate term used for your actual aunts and close female friends
of the family, usually with the person's given name preceding it (e.g., Keiko
Oba- chan). Addressing a stranger as "obachan" is often considered too
familiar, even rude, but describing a loudly-dressed, outspoken woman
as an obachan is done all the time ("Look at those two obachan over there,
buying sequined turtlenecks for their chihuahuas."). The most extreme
groups, the ones who hunt for bargains in packs, are dubbed "obatallian,"
short for "obachan batallion", although this term is used less now.
I asked various Japanese acquaintances to describe to me the typical
Osaka Obachan, her likes and dislikes, her shopping habits. It was surprising
just how uniform the descriptions were - I quickly formed a composite
picture in my head. You're an obachan when you love Korean dramas
so much that you go on obachan-tailored package tours of the towns in
which the stories are set. You're an obachan when you listen to Hikawa
Kiyoshi, the enka singer (and line up for his concerts at the Shin-Kabuki-za
in Namba). You're an obachan when you've got a purse full of the worst
old-fashioned cinnamon sweets, which you're always foisting on unsuspecting
children and adults alike. You're an obachan when you sleep with
your teeny-tiny dog, but your hapless husband is relegated to another
room (and your dog growls at him too).
Osaka Obachan fashion is flash-on-a-budget. While a Tokyo obasan
will boast of the quality of her ¥20,000 cockatoo-print blouse, the Osaka
equivalent will brag about how she found her tiger-stripe velour number
in the knock-off bins for ¥2,000. After years of making ends meet to raise
a family, once a woman hits 55 or so, she can turn those penny-pinching
skills to her own advantage, and with a clear conscience.
Also, with the recent changes to the Japanese divorce laws, a woman
who has put up with an absentee salaryman husband for decades can
now claim up to 50 percent of his company pension. Obachan are the
butt of many a salaryman's put-downs, but as they near retirement, the
men are starting to realize that maybe the joke was on them.
All this might sound sexist or ageist to you, but the Japanese media's
recent acknowledgement of Obachan Power is a backhanded compliment.
After all, in popular Japanese culture (if not in real life), the mother has
always been the long- suffering martyr of the family, the eternal Doris
Doormat of movies, books, soap operas. In the past decade, woman of
retirement age are increasingly refusing to play Whistler's Mother, and if
their behaviour sometimes seems a bit extreme, remember that they have
a lot of catching up to do. Centuries, even.
Text: Colin Doyle
Photos: Atmo Nartan
|