Loekalization Blog

The “Big Phoenix” fountain in Takarazuka City is a majestic tribute to resilience and rebirth after the Great Hanshin Earthquake—now being put out to pasture for the jaw-dropping, astronomical, earth-shattering cost of… €8,500 ($8,800) a year. That’s right, folks. Not €85,000. Not €8.5 million. Just €8,500. For that price, you can rent a tiny Parisian flat, buy a used car with questionable brakes, or keep a literal symbol of hope alive. Takarazuka, however, said, “Nah, that’s too rich for our blood. Pull the plug.”

Let’s not forget: this isn’t just any fountain. It’s the Big Phoenix—the Big Bird of Japanese municipal symbols. Installed in 1969, rebuilt in 2001 for a cool 1 million euro, it once stood as a proud reminder that Takarazuka could rise from the ashes of disaster. And now? It’s barely functioning, hobbling along like an exhausted marathon runner who’s lost a shoe. Out of six pumps, only one works. Twenty-seven nozzles? Only six still manage to wheeze out some water, probably while muttering, “I’m too old for this.” It’s less “phoenix rising” and more “phoenix falling… in slow motion.”

And now, instead of fixing it, the city has decided to shut it off entirely in December 2024. €8,500 was just too much to keep the water trickling. But hey, don’t worry—the mayor assured everyone the move was “necessary for fiscal discipline,” which is the political equivalent of saying, “We’re broke, and this fountain isn’t paying rent.” Fiscal discipline? For €8,500? That’s what a rich aunt spends on handbags in a slow month.

The internet, naturally, has been relentless. HanseN@2024 dropped this gem:
“震災からは復興できたが、少子・高齢化からは復興できねぇってことだよな。”
(“We managed to recover from the earthquake, but apparently, we can’t recover from aging and low birthrates.”)
Ouch. Somebody hand Takarazuka a bucket of ice for that burn. Meanwhile, ぱららん sighed,
“どんどん貧しくなっていくな…”
(“We’re just getting poorer and poorer, huh…”)
It’s less social commentary and more the tagline for a dystopian film about Japanese municipal budgets: “Big Phoenix: The Drip Stops Here.”

But let’s talk about what this really means. Killing off a fountain for €8,500 isn’t just a budgetary decision; it’s a giant neon sign screaming, “We’re in trouble!” And it’s not just Takarazuka—nearly 75% of Japanese municipalities are shrinking, their populations aging faster than a ripe avocado in summer. Social welfare costs are skyrocketing, tax revenues are plummeting, and infrastructure maintenance is basically a game of “What Can We Ignore Until It Literally Falls Apart?” The “Big Phoenix” is just the latest victim of this slow, depressing unraveling. What’s next? Declaring bankruptcy over the cost of a can of paint for City Hall?

The real kicker here is the absurdity of the amount. €8,500 is nothing in municipal terms. You could fund this fountain by passing around a hat at a PTA meeting. It’s a month’s rent for a decent apartment in Tokyo. Heck, Elon Musk probably loses that much in couch change when he sits down too hard. Imagine a town going, “Sorry, we can’t afford our most iconic landmark. Does anyone have some spare coins?” It’s like selling your wedding ring to afford a Starbucks latte.

If Takarazuka had any imagination, they’d turn this into a moneymaker. Start a crowdfunding campaign: “Save the Big Phoenix!” Throw in a limited-edition tote bag for donors. Or slap a vending machine next to it and sell overpriced “Phoenix Tears” water bottles. Japan loves vending machines—why not make the fountain one? Instead of shooting water, it could shoot cans of Asahi. Tourists would line up for miles.

But unfortunately the “Big Phoenix” fountain’s demise isn’t just about one busted bird—it’s the perfect poster child for the slow-motion financial trainwreck happening all over Japan. Takarazuka isn’t cutting costs because they hate water features; they’re cutting costs because they’re drowning in the quicksand of a shrinking, aging population. Nearly 29% of Japan’s citizens are over 65, which means fewer tax-paying workers and a whole lot of pension checks and healthcare bills. It’s like trying to run a marathon with half your team sitting in folding chairs. Add to that a fiscal system where local governments can’t even control their own taxes and have to beg Tokyo for cash like a teenager asking for an allowance, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. Oh, and let’s not forget the infrastructure. Roads, schools, public buildings—everything’s aging like a bad batch of natto, and the costs to fix it are astronomical. Toss in Japan’s greatest hits—earthquakes, typhoons, and decades of economic stagnation—and you get a landscape where even a measly €8,500 for a fountain feels like splurging on caviar at a family barbecue. If this isn’t the most depressing phoenix story ever, I don’t know what is.

So goodbye, sweet phoenix. You deserved better than this. Maybe someday, when Takarazuka isn’t holding its wallet together with duct tape, you’ll rise again. But for now, you’re going out not with a bang, but with a sad little sputter from your one remaining pump.