Neighborhood (in) Hirakata

 
The history of Hirakata, Japan in is neither grand, nor well-known. When asked about the area many fellow Japanese students were at odds to think of anything noteworthy. Its history, after all, is a modest story of farming community turned city, often droned verbatim in study abroad brochures^[1][2]:

[Hirakata], which had been previously known as a suburban farming village, has been gradually transformed into a modern residential city. Again, in recent years, six universities have been established in Hirakata and the city aims to create a new image for the 21st century as a "university city". (Hirakata City Website)

An affinity for growing things of all kinds is expressed openly here. Many residents keep small vegetable or flower gardens in their yards. The planters and pots at times overflow the yard and invade the streets. A large swath of rice fields and vegetable gardens cuts between my suburban neighborhood and several primary schools where children spend most of their days. It seems any open space is suitable for a garden, be it a rice paddy in a parking lot, or a back-alley herb garden.

Around my residence the tidy narrow streets are often absent of human activity, save for the occasional aged resident neatly cleaning the area around their home. In the morning and late afternoon college students walk and ride bicycles along common streets to and from classes. Less common, though, is seeing children playing in one of the numerous small playgrounds, each marked with a large metal slide – sometimes the only structure in the entire area. I wonder why so many playgrounds are in this area, if so few are being used.

Although Hirakata is a growing city with its six universities the local residents have not abandoned their modest farming heritage. Indeed, at least one of the local groceries features a section of locally grown rice, reminding me of the “local sustainability” initiatives from my natal home in Portland, Oregon. And so the small streets of my particular neighborhood burst with "life", though it’s not yet the life of a congested hurried city caught up in moving. It is the intersection of an older way of life with an approaching newer way of life, a liminal phase in this area’s history perhaps. Thus the quiescent slumbering atmosphere of my neighborhood still reflects the modest history I’ve been able to uncover thus far.