Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Tata Takanawa

Downhill from the Manor at Nino Hashi (Second Bridge) how convenient to catch the No. 96 bus.  Swipe your pasmo (travel pass) and in 15 minutes you are delivered within a block of the Tokyo American Club.  Preschool students in blue-and-white checkered uniforms fill the front seats with their mothers, smart  in navy; as they alight in Takanawa Ichome by the large supa (supermarket) the boys shout in gratitude to the driver ("arigatou gozaimashita"). Off the bus rolls, past the final resting place of the 47 Ronin (samurai without a daimyo) to Shinagawa Eki (think: Penn Station) where most passengers hop off. Next stop is ours Gotenyama Koban Mae (police box) with its daily report on display of train accidents--casualities in black ink (over 100), fatalities  in red (1 or 2).

A final cappuccino "without cinnamon please" on the third floor of TAC (aka the Tokyo American Club) with Mme G. After three years of weekly meetings to exercise body and mind with the study of shodo (calligraphy) under the indulgent eye of Nakamura-sensei, both of us are packing.  Our families landed within weeks of each other, and now we shall take off in the same month. Ages ago in London I first heard of TAC from Hiromi, who rhapsodized about the camaraderie it promoted.  Like a campus under one roof it offers classes and entertainment, as well as dodgy institutional food. Within months I was sitting on committees and  working on policy until Mme G reminded me that we ought to be taking advantage of the cultural programs.

"TAC is an island," observed another tomodachi-san who has been a member for 20-odd years. While she has never lived in the US, she has a taste for things American; her craving is satisfied by regular visits to TAC since she would never dream of leaving her family home. For gaijin struggling with nihongo on a daily basis, what a relief to have an English-speaking retreat complete with books and magazines that are as expensive here as Tiffany bracelets. This melange of native and foreign folks make a point of visiting this island within an island, which has temporarily moved out of its home in Roppongi during a major renovation. Nowadays American members are thin on the ground, and some joke  that the A in TAC could be deleted. Refurbished TAC reopens in January 2011 when the wrecking ball demolishes this interim building. As Mme G and I got up, the server grabbed my hand to wish me well. "Kyotskete kudasai (take care), kyotskete." Dropping a thank you note in the Tell TAC box naming many of the people who made this island special, I walked out into the humid afternoon and Mme G dropped me at the Narita express.

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