Planning a trip to Japan can be a journey unto itself. From enigmatic 1,000-year-old shrines to cafes with dancing Pikachus, the country advertises many things you can find “Only in Japan.” Yet, this is not my cup of green tea.
To a Guncle (Gay Uncle) like me, there is more to Japan than cringey maid cafes in Akihabara. I appreciate capturing the more charming parts of a country when traveling solo. Instances such as stumbling into an Osaka neighborhood cafe, where the cook smokes a cigarette while tossing eggs into the air, or being enveloped by the symphony of cicadas under the summer shade.
In my younger (and twinkier) years, my parched curiosity led me first to the nearest hattenba (bathhouse). While still thirsty, my wander lust has softened to a more self-assured wander landi. The goal isn’t necessarily to get laid but to embrace the moment, end the night with dignity, and have a flirty fling to share with you, my gay nephews and nieces. So behold, your Guncle’s guide to Japan — one where you can come in thirsty but surprisingly end up finding your soul fed.
Goldilocks finds his happy trail
Like many of you, the pandemic was a prison where I stared into the window of my laptop screen and dreamt of a life beyond uncertain quarantine. I immersed myself in YouTubers such as Abroad in Japan. Sadly, there was no queer representation until the channel Tokyo BTM popped up on my feed. The channel is run by friends Andrew and Meng, who share their adventures around Tokyo, diving into the LGBTQIA+ party scene of chiseled go-go boys and witty expats. As a gaymer who identifies more with the normcore bear culture, their content was a nice lead but not for me.
’40’: ‘image’: ‘jcr:302e4b08-b199-467f-9644-fb19098abb34’ ‘imageCaption’: ‘Left: Dungaree’s masuta Hideki. Right: The inside of Dungaree.
The calm fatherly charm of Hideki-san drew me in. There was a gleam in his eyes that radiated with paternal love for his patrons. From him, I would learn that he has been a bar owner for 26 years. He began up north in his hometown of Sapporo and went down south to Hakata City. Then, he settled down in Osaka, where I first met him on a rainy evening in November 2022.
Into the Dungaree den
Opening the door of the Dungaree for the first time felt like being in an isekai fantasy anime where characters are whisked by an enchanted portal. Imagine “Superbook” or “The Flying House” but opening a biblical page to a rainbow revelation. It was instantly homey — the sense of welcome reinforced by the smell of the bar’s signature curry. Coming in from a heavy downpour, I felt like an orphan meeting his adopted father for the first time. As I entered a packed room, masuta Hideki greeted me and sat me beside Reita. Reita worked for an English-speaking company, so he took care of foreigners like me. He said that the Tokyo BTM video brought in a deluge of travelers and he was getting tongue-tied talking to both English and Japanese guests. Although we never spoke about GMPD at first, there was a genuine connection because we subtly knew we were part of the same pack.
“Opening the door of the Dungaree for the first time felt like being in an isekai fantasy anime where characters are whisked by an enchanted portal.”
In these bars, it is customary to pay a standard entrance fee that includes an alcoholic drink and some snacks. In Dungaree, it costs 1,700 yen (roughly ₱750) for their signature curry and a beer. The experience itself is worth the admission. In seasoned masutas like Hideki, you find a wingman, confessor, psychiatrist, bartender, and chef all sushi-rolled into one. For this evening, Hideki was my tour guide. I shared how I was an otaku gamer and was about to spend a day in Super Mario World Universal Studios. He recommended I visit another GMPD bar named PokaPokaya because its masuta, Toru, was a manga artist and loved RPGs too.
As advertised, Toru is a gaymer himself. He was exhausted that week because he had just finished “The Witcher” for the nth time. Although he was team Playstation and I was team Nintendo, we both agreed that Geralt was a zaddy. As a manga artist, Toru is known for giving first time bar-goers an illustrated portrait the size of an index card. As soon as I received it, it was a keepsake that I quickly tucked into my backpack and protected at all costs.
‘ ’42’: ‘image’: ‘jcr:223612eb-e983-4c97-865d-4d2dda48754a’ ‘imageCaption’: ‘Left: PokaPokaya’s masuta Toru. Right: The inside of PokaPokaya.
In May 2023, I returned to Japan to start an online business for Nintendo merchandise. I missed my brother Toru so much that I had to make a brief stop in Osaka on my way to Nagoya from Himeji castle. As I was welcomed back, we easily slipped into talking about the upcoming “Final Fantasy” game. Mid-conversation, masuta Hideki came in and they roped me in to join their first post-pandemic beach party at the end of July. I caved into the pressure of two masutas. And within a blink of two months, I woke up to board a 7 a.m. bus headed to Lake Biwa with a bus full of bears. At the beach, there was overflowing beer and BBQ, but the real treat was watching drag queen Hiro do an impromptu lip-sync of Little Mix’s “Power” as a macho muchi daddy jokingly grinded him.
‘ ’50’: ‘image’: ‘jcr:987c44d9-7747-4616-830f-22a3732d8440’ ‘imageCaption’: ‘The poster for Dungaree and PokaPokaya’s first post-pandemic
Paw it forward
By following the Dungaree on Twitter, there was a bar trail that led to all directions from Okinawa to Sapporo. It is customary for bars to retweet each other’s fundoshi loincloth nights at the end of the month. There is also room for creative competition. Four masutas have a YouTube channel where they discuss their craft, roundtable-style. The bar Tugboat made a popular YouTube drama “Shimbashi Koi Story” that has an episode with at least 136,000 views. The series follows as two 40-year-old bears sheepishly and haphazardly voice out their true feelings. The drama is set in a chain of GMPD bars around the Shimbashi area.
It was masuta Kimi’s Instagram lip-sync of Meghan Trainor, however, that made me look into visiting his bar Logos in Shinjuku Ni-Chome. It had the right amount of cheekiness that felt inviting. It was still a bit nerve-racking to enter the bar itself because I wasn’t sure if it would be as welcoming as Dungaree. As I sat down on the stool in front of Kimi, there was a poster of the Dungaree’s upcoming anniversary event with Hideki’s face right in the middle. I immediately knew I was home again.
‘ ’45’: ‘image’: ‘jcr:5e9835a8-6cb3-4647-8c6f-dfc4a80fb1e7
At that night in bar Logos, Kimi was with his very chirpy assistant Naoki. They made a comedic yin and yang duo as Kimi was a much older wolf with a scruffy beard. Although my nihongo was and is still non-existent, it was evident that they liked teasing each other. And despite the language barrier, I gained even more family that night as it was the birthday of one guy a stool away. My seatmate celebrated by sharing a bottle of champagne with everyone. At the end of the bar, there was a vacationing couple who passed around a box of sweets from their hometown. I ended up ordering another round of beer. While I thought about calling it a night, a tanned and confident Japanese guy sat beside me. He spoke English with a Californian accent and shared that he worked in finance. He was cute so I asked if he was taken. He replied that he was but he frequented Logos for the camaraderie. His answer summed up how much more variety in nightlife is needed in the LGBTQIA+ community. Sometimes, you don’t need to keep on looking, you just need a third place to be found.
Keep safe spaces safe
This bar scene is a natural extension of Japanese nomikai (drinking) culture. Similar to Filipino society, there is a need to suppress your private thoughts and feelings (called honne) for the sake of communal harmony. It is the tatemae or public mask that keeps us in sync with society. The masuta’s sacred role is to let your mask down and reveal a bit more of your true self. The straight bars in Shinjuku offer the same solace. I do drink there, too. So, why have a gay bar then? It is true that sake is sake. And also, love is love. Maybe it’s because there needs to be a place to dream all sorts of dreams — even sexy ones of Daddy Mario fixing my plumbing — and to have an audience to listen to them.
I do implore readers to keep these sacred spaces safe. If you do visit the places mentioned, don’t invade these bars by putting the spotlight on them via Instagram Live or be annoyingly riotous. There are other venues for you to do that. Respect the privacy of the bar-goers. It is still a community space. Do sit down, grab an Asahi beer, and be earnest. Surrender your heart to the masuta and you’ll win one back. And like me, you’ll always find a warm seat open for you to say “Tadaima!” (I’m home!).
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