Akihabara, Tokyo’s famous “Electric Town,” is overflowing with foreign tourists these days, drawn by anime shops, maid cafes, and duty-free electronics megastores. But there is one storefront most of them walk past without a glance: Akizuki Denshi Tsusho. It may be one of those pockets of Japan that foreign visitors never see. Step inside and the narrow aisles are packed — not with tourists, but with Japanese customers hunting for electronic parts. It is a scene that has repeated itself here for more than 50 years.
For readers outside Japan, imagine something between Adafruit, SparkFun, and a discount surplus warehouse. If you start tinkering with electronics in Japan, Akizuki’s website is the one you will open before any other. Generations of Japanese engineers, students, and hobbyists have treated it as the default source for parts, the way you might default to Digi-Key or Mouser.
↫ Gakuto Ochi and an uncredited translator
I’ve long been fascinated by places like Akizuki Denshi Tsusho and other places like it in South Korea and China’s Shenzhen. An unending labyrinth of unimaginable amounts of technology stacked floor to ceiling. Whether they be like Akizuki, which focuses on the tiniest of electrical components, or more like the malls in Shenzhen, which seem to focus more on assembled parts, the idea of browsing through them in wonder draws me in like a moth to a flame.
I’m sad these places don’t exist anymore (or in most cases, never did) closer to home, but perhaps someday I’ll have enough time and funds to visit Tokyo or Shenzen and let myself be overwhelmed by things I don’t understand, and people speaking languages entirely alien to me.
