I’ve lived in a lot of houses in Tokyo, and I must say, most of them have been absolute dumps. They’ve been a combination of small, smelly, dingy, and totally lacking in a view. I still remember the classic view I had from my bedroom window in Asagaya – it was of the next building, 30cm away.
As regular readers will know, this time around we really did strike it lucky, being able to take over the contract from *Twinkle*s sister and her English partner (the two of whom are now living in Scotland). There was no key money, just 40,000 yen fire insurance and processing fee (and the deposit for my inlaws). The rent is treasonable (approx 100,000), and with it only being a few minutes from Gakugeidaigaku station in Meguro the location is great.
Now that Spring is here I can hardly believe how fortunate we are to live here. The glass-walled east-facing side is a wall of green leaves blinking in the sunshine, through which we can see the fountain on the pond beyond.
The south-facing side (that’s the one above, featuring my new homemade window-ledge garden and bird feeders, which are proving to be immensely popular with the sparrows) was going to be home to a new mansion, but the plans were put on hold, providing us instead with a beautiful poppy-strewn garden.
Looking at these surroundings, I can hardly believe how fortunate we are, and how different this is from that cell in Asagaya, or the dungeon in Hokkaido located underground next to the sewage tank.
Oh! And another dream of mine has come true – I have a new baby – a pineapple baby! I’ve only ever seen them growing once before, when I went to the semi-tropical islands of Okinawa in 2003 – before that I thought that they grew on trees!
I’ve been feeling a lot of gratitude for our home this week. I briefly mentioned this at the beginning of my last post, but since then time and time again I’ve found myself stopping, looking out of the window at the park and saying, “Wow. We are so lucky.”
The signing of the new two year contract last week got me thinking that now we officially live here, we should make an effort to connect with the local community. I think in a city like Tokyo it is only too easy to live totally disconnected from one’s surroundings, and to a certain extent that’s how it’s been for us since last September. I’ve not made the effort to get to know others or to make myself known. I’ve been an anonymous customer in the supermarket, just another person rushing through the park on their way to work.
Himonya park, with its large pond and temple on an island, little petting zoo, horse stables and baseball ground, is very much the centre of our community. It’s a place where festivals are held. Where people gather at 7am and exercise together. Where teenagers hang out in the evenings.
(Our apartment is just behind the trees to the left of the fountain!)
It’s always immaculately clean, thanks to the team of volunteers who sweep it every morning. I didn’t know who they were. They just did it for us. I also didn’t know who it was who managed the compost area just below our balcony. I didn’t know who was responsible for monitoring the water quality either.
It struck me that we should find these things out, and contribute to the upkeep of the park ourselves. After all, we benefit from the birds, from the wind in the trees, from the dappled sunlight on the wall, from the sound of running water, from the smell of blossom (not car fumes), from the luxury of being able to look out of a huge window and not see another building. I’ve lived in many houses in Tokyo, and until now I have never had a view that wasn’t that of other buildings (ranging from between 30cm and 10 metres away) .
(The shrine on the island in the middle of the pond)
Thus, when we received a notice through the door that the Himonya Park meeting was going to be held in the local gym, I jumped at the chance. Two nights ago, I hot-footed it from work, and, arriving 45 minutes late, slipped into the back of the 3rd floor Meeting Room.
There were about 20 there, about three quarters of whom were over 60. At the front behind a trestle table sat three men, representing the various authorities responsible for the maintenance of the area.
To the side was a fourth man in a suit. He seemed a bit out of place. I soon gathered that he was from the water company which was responsible for the community emergency toilet facility that would be set up in the case of an earthquake. I’d missed the beginning of his section so wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but clearly the local people were angry with him, and he was doing his best to be humbly apologetic.
(Burning New Year decorations)
Many of those attending took part. The manager of the petting zoo helpfully reminded us that horses are not humans and can bite. A young woman complained about the growth of weeds in the flower bed near her home, and was encouraged to join the park club which meets on a regular basis to tend to the flowerbeds. There was also a good deal of discussion as to what to do regarding the recent spate of thefts of plants – the consensus was that not much could be done but remain vigilant – or plant cacti!
Someone else wanted to know what had happened to all of the turtles, “There used to be hundreds of them!”. He was placated by the news that they hibernate.
The meeting wound down after an hour or so, and as people got up to leave so I approached the chap who had asked for park club volunteers. I explained who I was and where we lived; he was delighted that I was interested in helping. Making a note of my contact details he promised to be in touch. The next big event they need help with is the cherry blossom festival in a few weeks from now.
Since that evening, my relationship with our neighbourhood has changed: just making a little effort to connect with the place has made me feel more at home than I did before. Walking the streets I feel I now have an interest in looking after them, in saying hello to people, in supporting the local shops. I feel welcome, a valuable part of the community – and all I’ve done so far is attend one meeting!
I’m looking forward to opportunities in the spring and summer to really help out and get to know people. If we’re going to live here for at least another two years, it only makes sense to connect. Tokyo can be a pretty anonymous place, but this week I’ve learnt that that doesn’t have to be the case.
(all of the photos in this entry have been posted in previous Mumbles. My apologies for the repetition, but I thought they illustrate my thoughts quite well!)