After the Storm | Naoyuki Agawa (Vice-President in charge of Shonan Fujisawa Campus)
2011.10.11
I stayed overnight at SFC for the first time in a while. The heavy rain and wind from last night have vanished, and a truly autumnal blue sky stretches out. Several contrails draw parallel lines, and cutting through them, a U.S. Navy C-2 transport plane flies by, its engines roaring.
After finishing my class on "Yukichi Fukuzawa and the Modern World," I spent the night discussing the many mysteries of SFC with students taking "Yukichi Fukuzawa and the Modern World 2." Why do people greet each other with "otsukare" even when they've just met in the morning? Why do SFC students boast about staying late on campus? Why don't female students at SFC hang out only with other girls? Why don't SFC students carry the vinyl cases that students at Hiyoshi do? Where did the ducks in the Duck Pond come from?
This morning, we gathered again at Subway for breakfast. Below us, the Duck Pond spreads out. Even among all the campuses of Keio University, there can be no other with such a beautiful view.
I noticed about five ducks gathered just outside, waddling around and quacking. They seemed much fatter than before. Soon, Mr. Tarutani from the administrative office came and started feeding them. I see—the ducks know they can get food if they come to this spot at this time every morning. Leaving my half-eaten sandwich on the table, I went outside to watch. "You have to crouch down, or they'll run away," Mr. Tarutani said. Looking up, I saw Mr. Tomiyama, the Administrative Director of SFC, on the roof of Subway. He likes ducks and sometimes comes to see them. Apparently, there are quite a few hidden duck enthusiasts at SFC. They are called "Kamotaku."
These five are crossbreed ducks released by volunteers a few years ago, and each one has a name. (One mystery solved). However, we've lost track of which duck has which name. "I think one is Hikamin (because Professor Hikami's group released it?), and another is Nanban (because it looked delicious?)," said Mr. Tomiyama. In that case, let's give them new names. The slightly plump one will be Jun, the small one Jiro, and the one that appears anytime, anywhere, Ubiquitous.
In the "Yukichi Fukuzawa and the Modern World 2" class, it's a tradition to have discussions late into the night after the lecture and then continue the discussion the next morning. But on such a beautiful morning, I didn't feel like going back to the classroom. "Let's all take a walk around the campus," I suggested. With everyone's agreement, we proceeded counter-clockwise along the Duck Pond and up Tallow Slope. On the opposite side of the pond from the co-op cafeteria, there is a poetry monument for Junzaburo Nishiwaki.
O traveler, wait
Before you wet your tongue
In this faint spring
Think, O traveler of life
It's the beginning of a poem titled "The Traveler Does Not Return." Though not on the monument, it is immediately followed by:
You too are but a water-spirit
Seeping from between the rocks
How true that is.
When I looked up the words of this poem online to confirm them, I found that Nishiwaki also had these other words.
To be alive
Is to hear what is not easily heard
Is to see what is not easily seen
We took turns standing in front of the poetry monument, looking out over the campus spreading beyond the pond. The round Ω (Omega) Building looks cute from this angle. A cool breeze rustled the reeds and crossed the water, and the morning at SFC was enveloped in silence.
We walked along the sidewalk of Tallow Slope, shaded by the surrounding woods, and soon arrived in front of the SFC Junior & Senior High School. Peeking in from the entrance, I saw no one at all. I found out that all the students were away on a trip today. In that case, let's have a look inside. After getting permission from Mr. Muramatsu, the Administrative Director, we entered the school building. As I opened a door at the back, a rich, autumnal, pastoral landscape—completely different from the familiar view on the university side—spread out from the balcony of the newly completed building. To the right, I could see the foothills of the Tanzawa mountains.
Walking a little further from the junior and senior high school and turning left, just past the vehicle barrier, Sengen Shrine is on the right. It seemed it hadn't been tended to for a while, as the remnants of summer grass grew thick in front of the main hall. On New Year's Day during my time as Dean of the Faculty of Policy Management, I visited the shrine with Tokuda, who was then the Dean of the Faculty of Environment and Information Studies. We prayed that many excellent students would come to SFC again this year. I myself don't really believe in gods or buddhas, so I just tossed a single 10-yen coin into the offering box. The coin made a small clinking sound as it settled inside. I wondered if that was too little.
Returning to the loop road, the co-op was right there, just a stone's throw away. It's surprising how few people know there's a shrine so close.
We passed by the Δ (Delta) Building: Research Labs and slowly descended the slope behind the λ (Lambda) Building: Classrooms and Research Labs and the Α (Alpha) Building: Main Building. The trees at SFC are beginning to shed their leaves. Many of these trees were planted when SFC was established, funded by donations from Keio alumni. For future SFC students—yes, for you.
As we walked, we talked about various things. Mr. C's feelings when he, having grown up as a Zainichi Korean, visited South Korea for the first time. Ms. K's thoughts on a novel by Yukio Mishima she had recently read. The aspirations of another Ms. K, who will be studying in South Korea and Hong Kong early next year. Listening to the young people's stories, I thought to myself how long it had been since I had relaxed like this.
Here, there is a definite "now." And when I was about the same age as these young people, there was also a definite "now."
The "now" on a street with tsuiji mud walls near Kaidan-in at Todai-ji Temple, when I asked a female student delivering newspapers to sell me a copy, and she said, "You can have it," handed it to me, and quickly rode away on her bicycle. The "now" in the crowded student cafeteria at Mita, searching for a seat with luggage in one hand and a tray in the other, when I tripped on something, flipped my tray, and my hiyashi chuka (chilled Chinese noodles) flew through the air and landed perfectly in a stranger's basket. The "now" when someone I had a slight crush on smiled at me that day. The "now" when my sons were still small, and the cruise ship our family was on passed a sister ship off the coast of Alaska, and the two ships sounded their deep horns to each other.
But that was once upon a time, very long ago.
The clear SFC sky suddenly darkens, and a whirlwind sweeps me up, taking me back to the "now" of that time. Such a thing will never happen.
But somehow once upon a time never comes again.
Finally, we completed our circuit of SFC and came out to the plaza across from the fountain. Beside us stood trees planted in memory of Dean Kojima and Professor Magofuku, who passed away while serving at SFC. Although many nearby trees were felled by the recent typhoon, Professor Magofuku's tree is doing well. It has grown so much. Dean Kojima's tree, said to have tilted slightly, is also stretching its branches desperately toward the sky.
Here, I parted ways with the students. The definite "now" of this morning was over; it was no longer "now." I will store that "now," along with countless other "nows," in the drawers of my memory. And someday, when I have almost forgotten, I will take it out again.
(Date of publication: 2011/10/11)