Glossy and bright morning in Hong Kong. Our whole family slept with big socks and an extra duvet. I am the first one to wake up in the house and I wrap myself in a dressing gown dating back to my years in Tokyo. I sit at the kitchen table and I remember with pleasure the winter during which this robe saved me from bronchitis.
One of my friends at the time (his name is Toru) invited me to his housewarming party in the month of January.
First of his class and with the promising bright future of a senior Japanese official, Toru had been appointed to a position in Shizuoka at the foot of Mount Fuji for a period of two years.
The happy recipient of a housing allowance, he called me all excited to tell me that he had rented a house, yes, a house with a garden.
For all of us in the group of friends from school, a grown up house was a tangible and real sign of social promotion. In unison, we agreed, we all wanted to see his house.
The electricity was still being finalized and so he recommended that I dress appropriately for the cold weather. I was not very rich at the time and so I threw into my travel bag everything I could find to keep me warm. In the middle of this mess, there was this robe that I am wearing this morning.
With great pleasure, I had bought a Shinkansen (bullet train) ticket for this housewarming party weekend.
I arrived very late Friday night and Toru picked me up, not really paying attention to the layout of the town. I found the ride to his house quite long but I decided not to make any comment, as Toru was tickled pink with the honor of having guests.
Once there, I got out of his tiny car and quickly ran to his house surrounded by the mist.
After a traditional tea and being reunited with my former classmates, I headed to the attic where he had lined up as many futons as he had invited friends. Futons, loaned by neighbors, were fluffy and soft as they become after many years of use. I slept like the dead in the finally found silence.
Being a Roppongi girl myself, I really enjoyed the calm that surrounded his house.
It is Toru who woke me up first before the others. I know it was not because I was the first of the line of futons, it’s because I was Toru’s favorite friend and confidante.
“Banessa-chan, come and see the sun rise!”
I took off my robe and slipped into Toru’s big winter coat.
I went down the stairs softly and outside the house with him.
With an exquisite surprise and unspeakable pleasure, I became aware that his home was surrounded by fields of tea trees as far as one could see. Our single horizon was Mount Fuji and it displayed for us its summit covered with snow in the cold morning.
This postcard sight was of breathtaking beauty. I remember that I remained silent for several minutes in awe of my situation.
How many people on this planet will wake up one day surrounded by green and blue tea fields? How many people on this planet will wake up to contemplate the majestic beauty of Mount Fuji? I thanked the Gods that granted me this amazing gift.
When I put on my well-worn robe, surrounded by an endless sea of buildings out of sight, I think of this house in the middle of the tea plants in Shizuoka and the feeling of extraordinary freedom that I had felt on that day.
I caress my threadbare robe and I promise myself to find the blue and green tea fields again. I will proudly show them one day to Héloïse and Raphaël who have just woken up.