In Japan, tens of thousands of people intentionally disappear every year. They are known as “jouhatsu” or “evaporated people”. These individuals vanish from their established lives, leaving behind homes, jobs, and even families. Their motivations are varied, but often come down to escaping crushing debt, unhappy family situations, or sheer exhaustion with societal pressures.
Kamagasaki Slum: A Refuge for the Disappeared
One place many evaporated people drift to is the slum of Kamagasaki in Osaka. With cheap accommodation and day labor jobs, this run-down area has become a magnet for those looking to drop out of regular society. Hotels rent rooms for as little as $15 a night. Men stand on street corners waiting for work offers. No one asks questions or cares about your history here.
The slum is home to an estimated 25,000 evaporated people. They assume new names and identities to preserve anonymity. Japan’s strict privacy laws also help. The “disappeared” can access cash from ATMs and avoid being tracked. Police only get involved if an actual crime has been committed. For most evaporated people, families have no recourse but to hire private detectives at great expense, or simply wait and hope their loved one returns.
Masashi Tanaka’s Story
49-year old Masashi Tanaka came to Kamagasaki after a lifetime of abuse. When he went to prison for a drug charge, his mother declared him dead to her. With no safety net left, Tanaka evaporated to the slum for a fresh start. He now lives alone, severed from his painful past.
Another resident, 64-year old Kodama, fled when he lost his job decades ago. He left with barely enough cash for a train ticket to Osaka, assuming he could find work. He never returned home. Over 35 years later, Kodama believes it would be too uncomfortable to reunite with estranged relatives.
“I was sick of the world. But I didn’t have the courage to die,” he admitted. Like many evaporated people, Kodama escaped a hopeless situation through geographical flight. Starting over in anonymity seemed better than suicide.
Several aspects of Japanese culture and society drive citizens to become jouhatsu. Experts cite an overbearing work culture, familial expectations, and social shame over perceived failures like job loss or debt. “Evaporating” spares relatives the stigma of suicide. It’s an open secret that thousands disappear every year.
Economic turmoil also swells the ranks of the evaporated. After Japan’s asset bubble burst in the 1990s, many salarymen walked away from crushing debt. Today’s generation faces increased job insecurity and downward mobility, further fueling desire for a clean break.
However, jouhatsu involves deep trade-offs. Ties are severed, lives overturned. Despite the pain or debt left behind, many evaporated people still express regret and longing for lost loved ones. But the prospect of revelation seems more burdensome than disappearance. Once evaporated, most know they can never condense back into their old lives again.