[Feature: The Future of Housing Complexes] Hinako Nakazawa: Depicting Tama New Town

Tama New Town is alive. Like any town, this artificially created town was born, grew, and is now experiencing "old age."

In March 1971, Tama New Town was born as a town for "salarymen working in central Tokyo, their wives, and their children." Unlike towns that have existed since ancient times, the fact that its "date of birth" is clearly defined is a characteristic unique to a New Town.

I moved to this town with my parents in July 1984. It was an era when it was still developing. I continued to live in this town until September 1992; I am, so to speak, an early resident. When I began my career as a novelist, I wanted to write about this unique town, which led to my book "New Town Chronicle" (published by Kobunsha). As the title suggests, I compiled and depicted the history from the birth of the New Town in 1971 to 2021, fifty years later, as a chronicle. First, I would like to provide an overview of that book.

Chapter 1: "Our Hill" 1971

Kenji Kojima, 18, works as a new employee at the city hall. His main job is handling resident issues, and he attends the "Association to Open the Future of New Town," formed by residents, as a representative of the city. At these meetings, issues such as the city's inadequate medical system and inconvenient transportation are discussed. Kenji feels uncomfortable, as if sitting on a bed of nails as the city representative. At the meeting, he meets a young housewife named Haruko Hakamada, who is with her three-year-old daughter, Rieko, and gradually becomes attracted to her. Encouraged by Haruko, Kenji begins to help the association. However, Kenji's uncle, Yoshiyuki, does not think well of the new residents moving into the New Town—the white-collar workers commuting to the city center—and finds various faults with Kenji for getting involved with the association. Meanwhile, Rieko suffers an asthma attack—

Chapter 2: "The Schoolhouse" 1981

1981, ten years after its birth. The elementary schools in the New Town are overflowing with children, struggling to accommodate the swelling number of students. New schools are being prepared at a rapid pace to house the children moving in one after another. Fumiko Ogawa, a fifth-grader, is shocked to learn that her best friend, Emi Iguchi, will move to a new elementary school starting in the new school year. Before the confused Fumiko, a transfer student named Masae Oyamada appears. Masae, who lived in an old town in central Tokyo, gives Fumiko, a "New Town kid," a major culture shock. Kenji, now 28 after ten years, watches over these children warmly as a school administrative staff member. However, one day, a sudden quarrel leads Masae to break Emi's front tooth, and a great "wave" crashes over the three girls: Fumiko, Emi, and Masae.

Chapter 3: "Pool Bar" 1991

The year is 1991, during the final period of Japan's bubble economy. Yoshiyuki, who ran a greengrocer in the shopping district, rode the wave of prosperity and renovated the shop into a pool bar, leaving it to his wife, Yoko, to manage. While the bar continues to operate successfully, their son Koichi, a junior high student, has stopped going to school and is a shut-in at home. During this time, a popular drama is filmed at the bar. On set, Yoko meets a fledgling actor named Tsubasa and, out of frustration with her husband Yoshiyuki, becomes increasingly involved in a relationship with him. But the conclusion is something she never expected.

Chapter 4: "The Workshop" 2001

After the bubble burst, the business of the former pool bar deteriorated rapidly, and it is now closed and vacant. Yoshiyuki has fallen ill and is hospitalized long-term. His son Koichi continues his life as a shut-in alone at home. One day, Kenji Kojima, who is Koichi's cousin, brings a woman named Azusa Kaizoji, saying, "There is someone looking for a dyeing workshop." Azusa likes the former pool bar at first sight. She immediately rents it as a workshop and begins her dyeing work. Koichi initially keeps his distance, but eventually, he is drawn out by the easygoing Azusa and starts helping at the workshop. However, Azusa has a big secret—

Chapter 5: "Class 5-1" 2011

In the summer of 2011, a class reunion is held for Class 5-1, the class Fumiko Ogawa belonged to in 1981. Hideki Aiba, who attends, reunites with his former playmates, Masato and Jun. Although he acts cheerfully, Hideki is actually troubled. His worry is that he and his wife, Miki, have not been able to conceive a child. Meanwhile, Masato suggests, "Why don't we sneak into our old elementary school, which has been closed, and have a drinking party?" On a summer night, Hideki, Masato, and Jun gather at the school they once attended. They talk in a completely dilapidated classroom. At that moment, an aftershock of the Great East Japan Earthquake occurs. The March earthquake and the nuclear accident. Having experienced events that overturned his values from the ground up, Hideki decides to take a step forward regarding fertility treatment with his wife, Miki.

Chapter 6: "The New Town" 2021

The New Town has reached its 50th anniversary. Haruko Hakamada, who was in her 20s in 1971, is now in her mid-70s, living alone in a housing complex in the New Town after losing her husband. Her daughter Rieko is now in her 50s, living in central Tokyo with her husband and two daughters. Rieko's worry is her second daughter, Yuki, a rebellious high school student who lives as she pleases. Rieko is also worried about Haruko living alone and is thinking of having her move near her own home. However, Haruko is not keen on moving and insists on continuing to live in the New Town. To change her mind, Rieko requests the city's Silver Human Resources Center to dispatch a staff member to help clean up her mother's house. The staff member who arrives is Kenji Kojima, who has now retired from the city hall. While being tossed about by Yuki's behavior, Rieko proceeds with "closing up the family home" with Kenji. However, it seems Kenji has a certain fact he has been keeping secret—

The above is an overview of the novel consisting of six chapters. In writing this story, I delved into past literature and also conducted on-site research of the current Tama New Town. In the next chapter, I would like to describe the current state of Tama New Town as seen through that research.

I went for research from the spring to the autumn of 2016. I walked thoroughly through the schools and shopping districts that serve as the settings for each chapter, as well as the housing complexes near Keio Line Nagayama Station.

Walking through Tama New Town for the first time in a long while, I found that its atmosphere had changed significantly since the time I lived there.

The shopping districts that were once overflowing with people were now full of shops with their shutters down. No shoppers were seen coming and going. The few places "in business" were mostly nursing care stations or short-stay offices. It makes sense; the residents of the New Town, who were once in their 20s and 30s, have all aged along with the town and become seniors. At the time of planning, there was an expectation that "the children of the initial settlers would return to start families and the town would continue," but that became a pipe dream. The child generation established homes in central Tokyo for commuting convenience and did not return to the New Town.

Many of the elementary and junior high schools built at a rapid pace to accommodate the overflowing children have been closed and left to decay. As for the housing complexes themselves, due to the inconvenience of having no elevators, people have decreased from the higher floors like the 4th and 5th floors. People are barely living on the 1st and 2nd floors, and even then, there is a high probability they are vacant.

There are few children in the large parks, and seniors of similar ages are relaxing on benches. I hear that many residents are moving to apartments or condos near stations with better transportation due to the reduction in bus services. And so, the residents of the housing complexes decrease further—the decline in population has become unstoppable.

As someone who lived in the New Town during its heyday, a sense of loneliness and helplessness grows every time I look around the town today. "The aged New Town"—the town looked as if it were certainly heading toward its end.

Walking through the current New Town, the town as it was when I first moved in comes back to life in my mind.

I remember the first time I went to the Hijirigaoka district, where my family home is now. Not a single house had been built yet; it was a development site in the middle of the pioneering period, with exposed red soil stretching out. In the shopping district, shops of various industries were open, including meat, fish, and small supermarkets, providing a lineup that ensured no trouble in daily life. In the still-new schools, many children and students could be seen, and the place was full of vitality.

One of the nearest stations, Seiseki-Sakuragaoka Station, was under construction for a new station building. Several tall cranes raised their necks toward the sky, reminiscent of a herd of dinosaurs. In the dark temporary station building still under renovation, stalls for night-crying soba and takoyaki lined the front of the station, and as a high school student, I often bought snacks there.

In 1986, when the new station building was completed, a major shopping center including the Keio Department Store opened in Seiseki-Sakuragaoka. It became an incredibly convenient setup, equipped not only with shops supporting food, clothing, and housing, but even movie theaters and theaters. "Everything can be found in this town without going to the city center"—such ambition was likely reflected in the town planning. And just as planned, the town developed.

However, such a "created town" had its own unique "problems."

The "scent" of a town built by people over many generations was thin. Specifically, there were no pachinko parlors or red-light districts. No record stores, jazz cafes, or red-lantern pubs. It was clean and safe, but the sense of everyday life was faint. Although there were shopping districts within the housing complexes, many of the shops were new businesses opened by former farmers who had ceded their land to the New Town and learned their trade elsewhere; somehow, the feeling of "doing business" was thin.

When I was young, I felt a sense of dissatisfaction with such a town that was "clean and safe but extremely lacking in stimulation." I longed for towns with strong personalities built by predecessors over many generations, like Koenji and Asagaya along the Chuo Line where my friends lived, or Yanaka and Asakusa which I visited for work.

That said, life in the New Town was also packed with daily experiences that could only be had in a New Town. This is a deeply personal episode, but I would like to introduce a part of those memories.

It was when I was a high school student. I was using a shovel to plant violets I had found in a nearby satoyama (woodland) in my garden. When I dug down into the garden soil a bit, the shovel hit something with a clink. When I dug it out, it was earthenware with clear cord markings. I took it to my university and had an archaeology professor look at it, and I received his seal of approval that it was "undoubtedly Jomon pottery." Jomon pottery from my own garden. When I looked into it, I came across the fact that the hills of western Tama, where Tama New Town is located, were dotted with villages where people had lived since ancient times. Beneath the newest, just-born town, a 10,000-year-old village was sleeping. It was a thrilling experience.

The fact that old farmhouses remained right next to the New Town was also a joy that spread warmly in my heart. Where there are farmhouses, there are fields. Where there are fields, waterways flow, creating a fruitful satoyama. In the area around Wakabadai, which is now developed and lined with high-rise apartments, such a pastoral scene used to stretch out. On a spring afternoon, I would pass through the housing complexes lined with residences and go behind an old shrine that sat like a boundary line. After walking through the woods for a while, a thatched-roof farmhouse and fields where the green of vegetables shone gently would suddenly appear before my eyes. It gave me a mysterious sensation, as if I had traveled through time or warped to a distant land. I don't think I will ever forget that heartwarming sight, the light, and the chirping of the birds for the rest of my life.