In Japan, a unique type of chocolate initially faced rejection, but later found an unexpected purpose among students. This wasn't due to its taste or quality, but rather its intended use. The story highlights the complex relationship the Japanese have with chocolate, particularly concerning social obligations and gift-giving.
Valentine's Day in Japan has a unique twist: women are traditionally expected to give chocolates to men. However, this custom extends beyond romantic interests. Women are also obligated to give "giri-choco" (obligation chocolate) to colleagues, bosses, and sometimes even family members. This practice can become quite expensive and burdensome, leading some to resent the obligation.
Godiva, the Belgian chocolatier, even took out a full-page ad in a leading Japanese business newspaper in 2018, calling for an end to the giri-choco tradition. The ad, credited to Godiva Japan's president, Jerome Chouchan, suggested that Valentine's Day should be about expressing genuine feelings, not fulfilling obligations. The response to the ad was significant, sparking online debates and numerous articles in the Japanese press.
The advertisement noted many women dislike the practice and holiday and meditated on the true meaning of the holiday. Some accused Godiva Japan of stealth marketing, pointing out that the more expensive Godiva brand goods were rarely bought as obligation chocolates, so if the practice stops, the impact for them is minor and might even benefit their sales.
Amidst this cultural backdrop, a particular type of chocolate emerged that wasn't intended for consumption. While details about the specific manufacturer or type of chocolate are scarce in the provided context, the key lies in its alternative application. This chocolate was used for calligraphy.
Calligraphy, or shodo, is a traditional Japanese art form that emphasizes precision and artistry. It involves using brushes, ink, and paper to create beautiful and meaningful characters. It appears that some students began purchasing this rejected chocolate not to eat, but to melt it down and use it as a substitute for traditional ink in their calligraphy practice.
There are a few potential reasons for this unconventional use. It is possible that traditional calligraphy ink could be expensive, or that the chocolate offered a unique texture or color that appealed to the students. It is also possible that the students were simply experimenting and looking for a creative way to express themselves through their art.
Furthermore, Japan has a history of creative innovations with chocolate. From edible art supplies like chocolate oil paints to chocolate replicas of faces created with 3D scanners, the Japanese have demonstrated a willingness to think outside the box when it comes to this popular confection.
Regardless of the precise reasons, the students' repurposing of this rejected chocolate highlights the intersection of tradition and innovation in Japanese culture. It also underscores the evolving relationship between Japanese society and chocolate, as people seek to redefine its meaning and purpose beyond mere obligation or consumption. This unusual story serves as a reminder that even something as simple as chocolate can take on new and unexpected significance in different cultural contexts.
It is worth noting that there have also been instances of people, including foreign students, selling homemade chocolates on the street in Japan to make money, particularly during difficult times like the coronavirus pandemic. However, these situations are distinct from the story of students using rejected chocolate for calligraphy, as they involve economic hardship and the direct sale of chocolate for consumption.