Making a home

Because Wakayama City is much smaller than Osaka, finding housing is a bit more difficult.  I was unable to find another share house, so I was forced to move into an apartment.  While the process wasn’t the easiest, I was lucky and found a really helpful employee at one of the few gaijin housing agencies.  Her English was great and she did so much to help me find the perfect place.

Still, as I stood in the middle of my bare new apartment, it was a little overwhelming.  Living on my own was exciting, but the challenge of making this stark place into a home was daunting.

I started with unpacking the one suitcase I brought with me.  Mostly clothes.  Then, many trips back and forth to Osaka later, my possessions slowly started to find their place in my new space.  Buying dishes, household goods, and little bits and pieces of my new life helped a little, but the space was still not a home.  Otose’s place was full of warmth, laughter, and the rich smell of tatami.  This new place was bright (made even more so by the plain white walls), but it lacked the warmth of a home.  However, work started, the ball of life started rolling, and there was little time to worry about it.  I had a space to sleep, cook, and exist.  Toriaizu ii desu.

Days turned to a week, and I found myself getting more comfortable in my new apartment.  I managed to procure the essentials (and some not so essentials).  I was settling in.  But home was still Osaka.  It even said so on Google Maps.  Then one day, with the simplest thing, it changed.

Walking home from the grocery, I passed by one of the many large gardens near me.  This one has a small table at the entrance where they put out produce for a hundred yen.  This day they had onions, but also a blue plastic bucket of fresh cut bouquets. 

Smiling, I bought a bouquet with daisies, freesia, and an assortment of purple, orange, and white flowers.  I had no vase, so I put this vibrant treasure in a plastic Gintoki cup and placed it on my table.  Suddenly my apartment became my home.

Growing up, Otosan had always kept the yard beautiful.  It was his job, but also his passion.  There were always flowers in spring and summer.  Anytime there was a party or company came for a visit, or just because the flowers were exceptionally beautiful, he would make arrangements and put them all over the house – the kitchen table, the bathroom, my bedroom.  It was always something that made me happy.  One of the little things that made our house a home.

I sat down at my computer, next to the little bunch of flowers, and updated the home location on Google Maps.