Yokohama Tram Museum

I took the opportunity to visit the Yokohama Tram Museum (Shiden Hoson-Kan). Located a 45-minute bus ride from Yokohama Station, it was less accessible than the Hara Museum. From a distance, its exterior could easily be mistaken for part of the city bus garage next to it. Despite having the word museum in its name, (or “preservation hall,” if translated literally from Japanese), it felt more like a children’s “playground.” Inside, tram simulators, a pay-to-play diorama, and a vending machine area with colorful tables and chairs at the end of the display hall were clearly catered to children. I was even handed a point card after purchasing the ticket (with discount if you arrive by public transit).

The first part of the exhibition was decommissioned trams. While the number of trams on display was small, they were remarkably well-maintained given their age. The lacquered wood interior was gleamed, and the fabric benches were clean and free of odor. The operator’s section of the car and controls within showed some signs of use, yet the paintwork remained intact. As I walked through the hall, one interesting detail I noticed was that original advertisements and signs inside had been preserved, a practice sometimes overlooked at other railway museum or exhibitions. It was exciting to see the original route map in the train car as it showed the evolution of the city’s transportation network in the last century.

Yet, what intrigued the most was the second part: history exhibition behind the train display hall. The exhibition consisted of mostly text and used objects, such as tickets, pamphlet, and the uniform of the now defunct Yokohama Tram. Orrganized by chronilogical order, covered the beginning to the end of Yokohama’s tram system.

Although the collection was just small as the tram display, they covered much of Yokohama’s history in the past 120 years through a unique perspective. For example, through the conversion of the trams’ ownership, one can catch a glimpse of the impact of economic boom following World War I (Taisho Bubble). This is because unlike Tokyo, its neighboring city, the trams in Yokohama started their operation in the hand of a private company before being converted into a municipal agency in Taisho Year 10 (1921). Amid World War II, the tram suspended bulk of its operation to conserve resources for the front line. When news of victory arrived from the battlefield, celebrations are printed on the Tram Newspapers (Shiden Shinbun) and tickets. They serve as the telltale proof of Japanese war effort in the home front. Then, the destruction of American bombardment—and in an ironic twist—the post-war economic boom, both added onto the financial deficit of Yokohama Tram, eventually leading to the city’s full transition to a public transit system consisting of bus and subway in the 1970s.

In particular, one exhibition poster the draws the analogy between tram system and a living person. Its infancy begins in the Japanese victory in the Russo-Japanese War—the final last gleaming of the Meiji era. Its adulthood was marked by the trauma and destruction of World War II. By the time peace and prosperity returned during the postwar recovery, the trams of Yokohama had already fallen from its peak: it was too senile to serve the needs of Yokohama residents.