2009.11.12
As the son of a trading company employee, I grew up moving from place to place, but Akasaka, where I lived when I was old enough to remember and spent most of my time from kindergarten through elementary school, is the place I feel the most nostalgia for. This was back in an era when you could see the Kasumigaseki Building under construction from a spot with a good view. I also went to see the Tokyo Olympic torch relay on Aoyama-dori Avenue. According to my parents, Rikidozan, who lived nearby, used to play with me, but I only have a vague memory of it.
The place I actually lived was closer to Aoyama than what most people imagine of Akasaka, on the "Oka no Ue" behind the front-facing district of traditional restaurants, and it had the chic name Akasaka-daimachi. Until the Chiyoda Line was built, the station was far away, and true to its name (saka means slope), the area had many slopes, making it difficult to get to. For these reasons, despite being in the city center, it had the atmosphere of a suburb. It was the backyard of the entertainment district, where a motley crew of people lived together—people from the nightlife industry, high-ranking bureaucrats from government housing, entertainers, and designers. My family's home has since moved, and instead, the Editorial Engineering Research Centers and Institutes has moved in just a stone's throw away.
When I was in kindergarten, a *kouta* (short ballad) master lived nearby. Her grandson was the same age as me, and we became friends. I remember being stunned when I first met his mother, who was an incredibly beautiful woman. That might have been my first crush. I recall looking forward to seeing her whenever I went to my friend's house. Unfortunately, my friend moved away soon after. It's because of memories like this that I suppose I consider Akasaka my hometown.
For elementary school, I attended Hinokicho Elementary School, which was located where Akasaka Elementary School is today. When the former Akasaka Elementary School, which was near the Toraya shop, merged with Hinokicho Elementary School, our school's name was taken away, which is a bit frustrating. But since my father is a graduate of Akasaka Elementary School, I'll let it slide.
I'm not just saying this because I'm bitter about our elementary school's name being taken, but I do think it was a shame that we were forced to give up our town name due to the change in the residential addressing system. There's a world of difference between "Akasaka-daimachi" and "Akasaka 7-chome." Akasaka should have tried harder to preserve its town names, like Nihonbashi did. I feel like the love for the town has been lost. The spirit when carrying the *omikoshi* (portable shrine) must be different too. I wonder if it even affects things like public safety. It's not too late. Now that postal codes and navigation systems are so widespread, wouldn't it be fine to bring back the old town names without any inconvenience?
(Date published: 2009/11/12)