According to history, the first Tokyo live fish markets appeared around the 8th year of Keicho (1603 A.D.), the calendar used in the Tokugawa shogunate founded by Tokugawa Ieyasu. Mori Magoemon brought nine of his family members and thirty fishermen to seek refuge with the Tokugawa bafuku in the city of Edo. The fishes they caught were offered to the Tokugawa bafuku for their daily provisions. In 1674, the Magoemon family obtained the permission from the government to sell part of their catch to civilians near the current Japan Bridge. As the population increased, the way of selling fish evolved from selling it on lined up fish boats to selling it in wholesale stores by the riverside. As the trade expanded, the riverside fish markets gradually established; they were called Uogashi, Riverbank of Fish.

The Tsukiji Fish Market, located by Sumidagawa River, was founded in this fashion. In the early days, the main functions of Tsukiji Fish Market were providing a trading channel between supplies and sales, and guaranteeing steady seafood supply for Tokyo residents. Following the transformation of consumer habit and the ever-improving living standard over time, Tsukiji Fish Market has turned into a market that processes and distributes high-quality seafood like tuna and sailfish.
In 1923, a disastrous earthquake in the Kanto region not only brought about many casualties and damages, but also wiped out the once prosperous Japan Bridge Fish Market. The fish market was later moved to Shibaura, then to the current Tsukiji site in December of the same year. Tsukiji Fish Market is divided into the inner and the outer markets. The inner market was constructed as a naval base.  The outer market was a landfill on a shallow beach; it survived the famous Kanto earthquake, WWII and the post-war restoration. The market expanded as the trade flourished, and became what it is today. The word “Tsukiji” literally means land-filling.

The main building of Tsukiji Fish Market’s inner market was built in 1928. Tokyo City officials were in charge of the market management at the time. To learn from others’ experiences, they sent a delegation to Munich, Frankfurt, Milan and New York to study these Western cities’ operations. It was during that time the Bauhaus style, founded by Walter Gropius in Germany, was at its peak (1919 -1933). The Japanese delegation was deeply impressed by many buildings of such style that generously employed the three modern architectural materials: steel, cement and glass. The Bauhaus philosophy of “beauty in functionalism” was apparent in the design of Tsukiji Fish Market. Its construction emphasized the structure of the reinforcing steel, the skylight, the combination of straight lines and curves.  The intricate structure of the reinforcing steel was decisively a work of art. It cost more than ten thousand tons of steel; compared to the 50-ton limit, set by the construction regulation two years after its completion, of any steel used for new buildings, the amount of steel used in Tsukiji was awe-inspiring.

In Tsukiji’s inner market, there are seven units: “Large Goods Unit” manages tuna, “Special Unit” handles blowfish, sea urchin and shellfish, “Live Fish Unit”, “Shrimp Unit”, “Frozen Unit”, “Processing Unit” and “Pickling Unit; each is in charge of their respective products. The wholesales items, besides the Japanese domestic catch all year round, include seasonal seafood from India, Pakistan, Philippines, Australia, China, Taiwan, Russia, New Zealand, Chile, South Africa, Spain and other countries that amount to 480 varieties. Tuna, the fish which has great influence on Japanese dietary culture, is the biggest trade in the inner fish market. In recent years, the amount of Tuna that the inner fish market traded weighted about sixty thousand tons. Sitting on a 230,000-hectare site, Tsukiji Fish Market is as big as five Tokyo Domes put together; it houses 784 shops and 250 wholesalers. The seafood traded per day is proximately 2,000 tons. The daily trading sum amounts to two billion Japanese yens. There are nearly ten thousand staff working on site, and forty thousand buyers and related personnel go through the market daily. These amazing statistics have made Tsukiji Fish Market the largest fish market in the world.  

In the main building of the inner market, other than the seafood trading, there are also rows of corner specialty shops selling items like knives, utensils, measurement tools, packaging materials, fisherman boots and other equipments; they answer to almost the entire necessary tool supply for the market workforce. Along with these shops, there are ancient food stalls that have been famous for their Unagi rice, shrimp tempuras, sushi and many other tasty treats. In addition, there are libraries, barbershops, clinics and so on. Needless to say, the outer market is also lined with shop after shop selling vegetables, grains, dry goods, meats, meals, etc. Many of them are respectable merchants with long histories that attract countless regulars and tourists.  

Another notable thing in the fish market is the turret truck, ”Ta-re” in Japanese. Its engine torque and steering wheel form a cylinder which is connected to a longish cart in the back. The truck can make a 90-degree turn in any narrow space. Sleek-looking, it is easy to maneuver and capable of carrying heavy loads. Ta-Re not only serves as a great help to the wholesalers and the fishmongers, but also becomes the symbolic and unique equipment of Tsukiji Fish Market. 
Whenever I meander in Tsukiji Fish Market, I am always enchanted by the fast-moving crowd, the distinctive characteristics of the market professionals, warm greetings from shop owners, the flourishing business scene, the swinging shop curtains and the balmy breeze. There were times when I felt I was in a movie reminiscing an earlier era where the people were kind, and the feeling was nostalgic.

Allow me to take you back to the end of December, 1993.
That was my third year studying in Japan. The snow piled on the street was not as exciting to me as my first encounter. I was suffocated by my long-term stress from intense school works and part-time jobs. Watching a TV broadcast reporting the flourishing business in the Tsukiji Fish Market, I suddenly had an urge and desire to visit this world’s biggest fish wholesales market, as known as “Tokyo Kitchen”.

Tsukiji Fish Market is located at the Tokyo-to Chuo-ku. It is a short distance from Shibuya where I stayed when I was a student. Tokyo subways usually stopped running around midnight. In order to see Tsukiji in the early morning, I borrowed a small truck from my boss. Following the map, I drove carefully to Tsukiji. In the middle of the night, the streets in Tokyo were empty and silent, a complete contrast to the traffic jams during the day. Sitting in the driver’s seat on the right-hand side, I kept reminding myself the different traffic directions and clung to the left side of the street. I quickly passed Shinjuku, the Imperial Palace, and reached Tsukiji next to Sumidagawa River in about 30 minutes.  

It was two or three o’clock in the morning; the night air draped heavily over Tsukiji. The tuna from Taiwan, Korea and various locations in Japan arrived in Tokyo by air or by land, and was transported into the fish market in successions of trucks. The seemly spacious market soon became busy and crowded. Tired of the long-distance travel or the cold weather, truck drivers took refuge in their trucks for a little break right after they parked their freezer trucks. To preserve the freshness of the Tuna, the sub-zero freezer trucks had to keep their engines running. The constant humming of the engines and the white smoke from the exhaust pipes made me hold my breath in anticipation before dawn.    

Waiting in the bone-chilling wind was tough to bear after all. I bought a can of hot coffee, carried my camera and huddled up in a big wood crate facing Sumidagawa River. Squeaking sea birds flew low over my head. Looking up at the clear and infinite starry sky, I suddenly grew terribly homesick.

Time ticked away with my pondering. Before 4:00 am, fish market workers, carrying steel hooks in hand or on waist, gathered from different directions, and started unloading, weighing, organizing the fish and so on to prepare for the wholesale auctions. While exchanging morning greetings rowdily, some workers gulped down rice balls and instant noodles hoping to produce the energy they needed for their labor-intensive work.  

A quarter past four, the workers opened the doors of the freezer trucks together. The clatters of the metal broke the silence before dawn. The thick, cold mist in the freezer burst out in seconds, like menacing monsters. After the mist dispersed, the big, rotund bodies of the tuna piled in the freezer vaguely came into view. To guard the tuna against the damage of getting smashed directly onto the hard surface, workers have laid down huge tires on the ground to reduce the impact. Unloaded, the tuna was hooked and pulled by the experienced workers to go through weighing and labeling procedures. Then, the tuna were moved to the auction sites by hand or forklift trucks. Workers traveled rapidly back and forth between several auction sites in the fish market. Shortly, thousands of frozen tunas were displayed in a neat and orderly fashion at the auction sites, looking like a military parade.

Watching the perfectionist work ethics of the Japanese workers and the spectacular tuna display, I was in awe with deep admiration. While I was contemplating how different our work ethics were, the workers continued cutting the tails off the tuna and opening up the skin and flesh in a lightening speed. The pre-auction preparation was about done.

As the preparation being finished, the licensed wholesales bidders, armed with steel hooks, flashlights and name badges, entered the market in small groups. They skillfully picked out a little meat from the tuna’s tails and rubbed it in their hands. Shining the flashlight at the meat, these experienced buyers inspected its color, freshness, quality and fat content. Tuna is migratory fish; the quality of its meat is affected by several factors, such as the quality of the water, the food it consumes, the region it is caught, how the blood is drained when killed, how it is packed and transported, etc. Needless to say, the price of the tuna greatly depends on the quality of its meat.

The reason why one can judge the quality of the tuna meat by its tail is that, in most cases, the meat quality of the tail relates to major parts of the body. Although it is not always 100% accurate, it can still be a key reference guide. I realized that opening up the tail and its flesh is to provide wholesalers a way of touching and inspecting the fish quality without spoiling other parts of the tuna. According to wholesalers on site, to cultivate the skills of judging the fish quality requires not only talent and know-how, but also at least 10 years of experience.

In the sprawling auction sites, shadowy figures, dim lights, whispers, flashlight blinking everywhere and the white mist rising from the frozen fish form a magnificent show with great effects.

5:30 am, the winter dawn remains dark. Clear and melodious bells rang here and there in the market. One after another, wholesalers moved onto the steps in the auction sites. After each auctioneer got into his position, he greeted everyone and announced the number of the fish ready for the auction. Wholesalers paid close attention to the auctioneer’s every word and move.

The auctioneer made sure all is ready; then, with a sudden raise of his right hand and loud voice, he started the auction. The auctioneer’s rapid and decisive gestures and his conductor-like body movement indeed created a lively and fascinating scene. To buyers, winning bids of fresh fish cheaply in the auction is what they hope for. To the sellers, selling low is not a happy story. Therefore, auctioneer has to be able to analyze the information thoroughly, understand the market trends, and keep both parties’ profits in mind, then auction out each fish of different qualities in a reasonable price. Undoubtedly, such skills take more than ten years of experience to obtain.

Buyers and auctioneers communicated with each other through their unique gestures (Teyari), written signs (Fuchiyo) and eye contacts. In general, each fish took about 6 seconds to deal accurately and complete the transaction. Thousands of tuna would be sold out in mere 30 minutes.

Now, the clock on the wall indicated that it was 5:55 am. The sky has quietly brightened up.
However, the noise in the market didn’t die down after the auction was over. In order to transport the fish to its destinies as fast as possible so that the fish would be kept fresh, another rush was ensued. Fishmongers maneuvered fully-loaded motorcycles, carts and trucks, moving deftly through the market. Occasional shouts were heard all over the market. Gradually, the parades of cars and people merged as a flowing river and disappeared at the end of the exit.   

A seemly uncharacteristic, chaotic scene started in the market plaza where many paths and exits merged. All kinds of vehicles, transportation tools and non-stop mobs mixed and weaved through from all directions, eager to dash to their destinations simultaneously. At the first glance, the confusing clutter made no sense at all. However, the traffic flowed smoothly and systematically in its chaos. It always amazes the first-time foreign tourists to no end. At the moment, some English chatting attracted my attention. I turned around and saw a group of elderly American tourists. One of the couples, making animated gestures, tried to purchase something from an old lady in a shop. “Tour of Adventures” is printed clearly on the small flag in the tour guide’s hand. Nearby, an electric saw rumbled on. The disciplined movement in the chaos continued in the plaza. On the cutting ground, frozen tuna was piled high waiting to be dissected.  

During my visits through the years, as well as being amazed by the stunning visual images of the people, objects and matters in the market, I was reminded repeatedly, by the way Japanese workers taking care of the tuna wholesales process, of the sense of obligation, the ingenuity of utilizing space and the unfailing execution of the “Customers first” attitude that are the characteristics deeply rooted in Japanese society.

Let’s look at the compelling sense of obligation first. To ensure the smooth operation of the auctions, market workers are devoted in every step of the way from unloading, transporting, and organizing to cutting the fish. They work diligently to accomplish their missions before the deadline. Except an occasional short break, the workers rarely laze about. Like the employees in other industries and the government staff in Japan, most of them work industriously and dutifully. Their work ethics are originated from the gripping sense of obligation that the Japanese feel toward their groups, society and country.

Secondly, the ingenuity of utilizing space. With a dense population in limited island space, the Japanese encounter the constant challenges of fighting for space. How the fish was organized for a streamlined flow in the market reflects how the Japanese make the most of the space to establish the top productivity. Other designs of such resourcefulness are seen in everyday lives: the triangle toilet fitted nicely in the corner at home, tracking doors, “stand & eat” noodle shops on the street, and layers upon layers of transportation systems on the ground, above- and under-ground. These apparent examples illustrate the wisdom the Japanese employed to fight for space.

And then, there is the unfailing execution of the “Customers first” attitude. The thoughtfulness is reflected upon the clearly-marked numbers on the fish, the meticulous care taken to shield the fish, the aisles saved for buyers’ inspection proceedings, and the steps designed for buyers in auction sites.

Even though there have been many criticisms against Japan, like: it’s a society of superficial ceremonies and over-packing; it worships the Western world blindly.  And there are the discussions of the conducts of its fish industry and marine ecology in the environmental and cultural debates. But, undeniably, the above-mentioned characteristics were the reasons why Japan got to recover from the post-war wreckage after WWII and became an economic power in the world.  
It was right after 11 o’clock.  Flocks of sea bird circled above my head. The winter sun offered some warmth.

I climbed up to a parking lot in the market to take in the whole view. The traffic in Sumidagawa River seemed busy. The crowd in the market scattered as the work came to an end. The staff was washing and cleaning the floor in a distance as the hectic rush subsided. The combined smell of sea breeze, gasoline and seafood lingers in the air; but, it somehow cheered me up.

I decided to walk down the stairs, leaving with the slowly dispersing crowd. Along the way, people lining up before the noodle shops, and a large crowd still packed in a roadside sushi bar. The hoarse hollers of fruit and vegetables venders were heard now and then. Loaded trucks whooshed away. At the crossroad, people stopped under the red light. Flags flapped despondently in the melancholy wind protesting the moving of Tsukiji Fish Market.

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