Japanese Slang (13 page)

The final dash for the door is referred to as
ketsubaru
(stretching one's ass). Thieves leaving the premises with sacks swung over their shoulders are doing
sayakaeri
(changing the sheath).

The gang scuttles into the yard, over the wall and out the gate, scattering in all directions. This is
mochizura
(having and running). To leave the scene of the crime in a congenial group would be suicidal; the only safe thing to do is what Tokyo's Koreans call
chacha:
each member dashes down a different alley. Groups of burglars who only steal money and jewelry will often do
ch
yapabataro;
the loot is passed to one person to reduce the danger of the whole group being rounded up by the police. In some of the rougher clans, however, bandits will react gingerly to the idea of entrusting their hard-earned spoils to a colleague. What if he should be
zaruo
(sieve), a loot carrier who is not above straining small valuables or yen notes out of the sack? This ignoble genre of betrayal is known among gangsters as
baiharu
(stretching the purchases) and
baigiri
(cutting the purchases).

•   
Oi, shitteta ka? Zaruo ga kawa de shitai de mitsukatta ze!
Hey, did you know they found that sieve dead in the river?

•   
Koitsu wa hen da n
! Aitsu wa baigiri shiagatta n
.
Something's fucked up here! I'm sure he skimmed off some of the loot.

•   
Aitsu baiharu shiagatte, kondo attara bukkuroshite yaru ze!
That guy riffled the loot. When I run into him, I'm gonna fuckin' kill him!

In a larger clan, where loot carriers are tried and trusted, the thieves will make their way one by one back to the
shima
(island), the gang's territory. There they will re-congregate to receive their share of the booty, their
kabu
(stocks). The emotion-laden distribution of the pillage is dubbed by some gangs
kabuwari
(stock splitting),
kabuwake
(stock dividing) and
tezuke
(depositing), and byothers
yamawake
(mountain splitting),
yamakan
(mountain sectioning), and
hajiki
(springing open). The thieves are on tenterhooks, and eager argotic questions abound:

•   
Yoroku?
(profits)
Was this a successful stint?

•   
Rachi?
(picket fence)
What are the results?

•   
Musuko wakakatta?
(was the son young)
There was no money in the house?

•   
Yabakatta?
or
yabakaita?
(from
yabai,
“dangerous”)
Has the job been a flop?

•   
Amerikan!
(American)
This is worthless! (American coffee, the bandits explain, is ridiculously weak. Like a stolen piece of junk, it does not do anything for one).

The joyful circumstance in which loot turns out to be of much higher value than anticipated is gaily heralded with
atsui
(it is thick). Another even cheerier occasion occurs when, during the loot dividing, an unexpectedly large wad of bank notes is found stashed in an antique or in the lining of a picture. This circumstance is dubbed
atari
(hit).

Burglars who work in twos and threes often prefer to split the loot at the scene of the crime. This way, everyone can do an immediate
dankon utsu
(bullet-hole banging), rushing off home after a successful job. This expression is always good for a raucous laugh, since
dankon utsu,
if written with the characters “male-root banging” can also mean “banging the penis.”
Oi, hayaku dankon ut
ze!
(Yo man, let's split!) could with a giggle be misinterpreted as “Yo man, let's bang penises!”

2
Reckless Burglars

THE CRIMINALS who live most dangerously are the
odorikomi
(those who enter dancing). Unlike their cousins the
akisunerai
(empty-nest targeters), the
odorikomi
do not check, recheck, and then check again before kicking doors in. If money is to be had, they will break and enter. Over time, the jargon of Japanese burglars playfully developed the bad boys' dancing image, and soon even the toughest thugs came to be jocularly known as
odoriko
(danseuses). The terpsichorean theme went even further, and these rash methods of burglary came to be known as
bon odori,
from the dances of Obon, the summer Festival of the Dead.

•   
saka no odoriko ga mata tsukamatta ze!
That danseuse from Osaka was caught again!

•   
Konban no bon odori umaku yare yo!
Good luck at tonight's dance!

The burglars enjoyed the festive idea of combining august ceremony with barging into houses, and were soon calling each other both
obon
and
urabon
(from the older Sanskrit name for the rituals, Ullambana). The
Obon festival was originally held in July, which prompted rough looters also to be called
shichigatsu
(seventh month), and then
nanoka
and
nanuka
(seventh day), which finally became the even more esoteric
ichiroku
(“one-six,” i.e. seven). As more and more areas in Japan 'began celebrating the festival in August, some gangs simply called their tougher burglars
hachigatsu
(eighth month), while more traditional gangs stuck to the old words.

Dancing thieves live on the edge. Some have actually become specialists in entering
orusu
(occupied nests); these are the
hamahori
(beach diggers) and
nobori
(risers). While the family is eating or watching television in one room, they tiptoe from closet to closet collecting valuables. Some thieves wait until the family is safely in bed; these are the
kurumi
(walnuts). Their silent method of entry is known as
seburikameru
(sleeping crawl). Related to them are the
machi
(those who wait), the
irimachi
(those who enter and wait), and the
tomari
(those who stay over). They break into occupied houses and then hide in a closet or under a bed until the family goes out. Then the heist begins.

Hiding in an occupied house is known as
anko
(bean jam). The jam, the tough burglars explain, is always hidden inside the
anpan
(bean-jam bun), just like thieves are concealed in the house. The drawback of this style of looting is that there is a good chance of bumping into the family. The victims are liable to start “dancing” (
odoru
), jumping up and down and waving their hands in terror, often followed by what is known as
nekatsukareru,
the backwards version of
kane o tsukareru
(“hitting the gong,” or screeching for help). If the burglar is lucky the family will now
scuttle out of the house and make for the nearest police station, a situation referred to with the tongue-twisted Korean
teitotsuchiyotsuta.

Some victims, however, will not run. Confronted, a rough burglar will turn into
inaori
(a stay-and-fixer). He will do
pika
(flick out a switchblade), flash his
pachinko
(“pinball machine,” in this case a gun) or resort to binding and gagging. This is known as
hosokukuri
(thin knotting),
kumo ni kakeru
(being caught by the spider), and
maki ni awasu
(letting someone experience the roll). Some burglars will vent their frustration at being caught by beating up the victim in what is known as
tsunagu
(connecting). When it is a housewife who is being tied up, the brute phrase used is
yachi o jime ni kakeru
(tying up the cunt).

•   
Inaori ni naru shika h
h
wa nai ze.
The only way to be a heistman is to be rough when you have to be.

•   
Aitsu ni pachinko o tsukitsukete miro yo! Ippen de damatchimau ze!
Shove your gun into his face! That should shut him up!

•   
Yab
! Barechimatta! Hayaku aitsu o kumo ni kakero!
Fuck! He's caught us! We're gonna have to tie him up quick!

•   
Tsunagareta yatsu ima by
in ni iru rashii ze.
I hear the guy we roughed up is in the hospital now.

The roughest of the “dancing” thieves are the
tonton
(bang bang),
tonma
(bang devils),
ishiwari
(stone breakers),
tatakizeme
(banging attack),
tataki
and
hataki
(hangers), and
sharitataki
(those who bang for profit).
As the ominous “bang” element in their names suggests, these burglars do not gasp and run when they are caught. Those who cross them end up what the ethnic Chinese call
jara
(“snipped,” from
jia le), suich
(“fast asleep,” from
shui jiao),
or
ch
ra
(“broken,” from
zhe le).

Some burglars are not above barging into bedrooms to rape sleeping victims. This practice is referred to as
tsukeme
(touching eyes), an expression that, oddly enough, has some connection to Buddhist priest slang.
Tsuke
is “touching” (touching the woman), and
me,
“eyes,” is the priestly euphemism for money.

The language of the toughest clans is filled with elaborate expressions for raping while on the job. One of the most common terms,
menuki
(eye pulling), carries on the priestly Buddhist practice of connecting eyes with money, but also manages to combine it with the violent image of physical torture.
Neshin
and
neshi
(sleep specialists) are the men who target bedrooms after the loot has been assembled and packed. After World War II tough sesquipedalian terms of Korean background flooded the Tokyo scene, and the Japanese bandits, in a show of solidarity with their Korean colleagues, struggled to pronounce them. The protracted Korean words
makuirebabantonda
and
hitekipuchinta
were used for rape that caps a theft, while the even lengthier
marubanichiyomend
implies that the robbed housewife not only consented to intercourse but actually enjoyed it. On those rare occasions when a group of burglars rape a male victim, the expression used is
y
rietsu,
the Japanese pronounciation of the Yokohama Chinese
yan lie zi
(lining up despicably on a young man).