I.D Essay Book - When I was a Child Star (Final)

Well, here it is. The final part of Maaya's first essay in the book 'I.D', 'When I was a Child Star'. It's been a long time, but I've finally finished it. I apologise for the long wait. I hope that you will indulge me in reading the whole thing from the beginning on one go at some stage. It was long. I hope you enjoy the last part!

When I was a Child Star (Final part)
After All That

It’s been three years since I graduated Komadori.

Nishimura-sensei still, as ever, has a loud voice. Sometimes we go for dinner and she’ll treat me but we’ll argue for some time about whether to have udon or zousui (rice and vegetable porridge) after our hot-pot. Whenever I get in touch to say, ‘Come and see my play, ok?’, she’ll reply with something like ‘I don’t know whether I’ll be alive or not then so I can’t make any promises.’ It’s ok, you definitely have another twenty years left!

With my theatre troupe comrades it seems that there have been various changes over the years. Well, I suppose it has been the same for me, and until you get used to a new environment you are bound to feel full of anxiety. Because of that we often went out drinking together, to share the latest news in our lives, and to encourage each other with whatever we were doing. Recently we haven’t gotten together as often as we used to, and I wonder whether that’s because we’ve all settled down in our various walks of life. But even now when something happens I immediately want to call them up and see their faces. Unfortunately, all of us are very busy.

It was only the other day that I received a call from Nishimura-sensei saying ‘Come and pick up the things you left here.’ It seems she’d started to clean up the old training room.

Several other former members of the troupe and I went back to Komadori for the first time in a long while. Even though she complained about her ill health, ‘recently it’s just…’, Nishimura-sensei’s booming voice remains unchanged.

While sorting out lots of different boxes, we uncovered a large amount of photographs. Photos of when we were children, lots of photos of the children who had been above us, even old black and white photos; an expansive collection telling the story of Komadori’s long history. Looking at the photos, saying ‘Wow! Oh wow!’, even photos of Nishimura-sensei during her youth were discovered. Photos taken before the era of her famous bandana. Her hair cut in a short bob, wearing a dress, the most cheerful face in a long line of people, with an impish smile. This was a photo from when the previous generation were still together, when the troupe had hundreds of members.

I've tried to imagine Nishimura-sensei’s life. She oversaw Komadori’s interviews from when she was around twenty years old. She was just one of many managers at the beginning. I wonder if she ever had any idea that she would be the only one to remain out of the previous generation, continuing on alone. Since it’s Nishimura-sensei we’re talking about, I bet she said with great emotion, a sense of justice, and with guts: ‘We will continue on!’ I imagine that for more than twenty years she has given everything she has to continue to protect the troupe.

It must have been hard work. It must have been tough. I’ve even said some pretty impertinent things to her in the past…

Nishimura-sensei doesn’t have any children. But, myself included, there are a lot of people who think of her as their mother. So in one sense, I think Nishimura-sensei does have a lot of children.

Looking at the photos, I thought how much they looked like a family photo album. A record of all the children growing up into adults, there are also photos of weddings and newborn babies. This is the Komadori inheritance.

The training room of what was once called the Children’s Theatre Troupe Komadori will soon disappear from the corner of that quiet neighbourhood in Shinjuku. It’s sad but a theatre troupe without any members cannot be left as it is. But I don’t think the end come with something as clear cut as taking down the sign, or putting a full stop at the end of such a long history. It might be taking a small vacation, but someday, somewhere, I can imagine a small training room opening, filled with a gathering of loud kids, snotty, cry-babies, naughty, all with loud voices. Until that day, we will all protect this treasure of photographs.

Even if a room which we call ‘Komadori’ does not exist on this earth, there is still a place where we can all return home to. Even when we live apart, family is still family. And when we remember the days we spent together, whenever we wonder how everyone from that time is doing, that place will be right there with us. Those things that we spent so much time building there were the things that cannot be seen with our eyes.

Fin.