It is said that the most recognized livable part of Tokyo is called Kichijoji. There’s a special Japanese drama called “Is Kichijoji the only street you want to live in? . Kichijoji is home to the famous Inokashira Park, which is known as one of Japan’s 100 sacred cherry blossom viewing spots. Next to the park is the famous Ghibli Museum of Art. When it is open, there is always a long line, and at least one-third of the line is filled with Miyazaki fans who come from all over the world.
Inside Inokashira Park there are springs, diffuse as a pool, and Jinan Baotu similar. The spring has enjoyed a reputation since ancient times, some say it is the first water in Kanto, and some say that Tokugawa Ieyasu drew water here in those days.
From Inokashira Pond, there is a waterway that runs eastward and finally enters the sea in Koto Ward. The waterway is accompanied by a railroad, and Takaido is the fourth station down from Inokashira Station. Archaeological findings show that Takaido has been inhabited by humans for 30,000 years. Historical records show that there was a post station here, and 400 years ago, a temple was built, and a spring was found outside the temple, so a well was dug. In any case, compared to Inokashira, this is a very common place.
Around 1970, Takaido happened to be the home of Japan’s famous Tokyo Garbage War. Thirty years after the end of the war, the Tokyo Garbage War Memorial was built here.
Of all the museums and memorials in Tokyo that I have visited, this one is one of the most impressive to me.
The memorial is not easy to find. Exit Takaido Station and cross a small metal overpass to the opposite side. The navigation showed that the memorial was only a hundred meters away, but it was blocked by old, tall buildings along the street. It wasn’t until I turned into an alley and went up a small slope that it opened up.
There is a second-hand goods store on the slope, and then a residents’ activity center. Further on, there is the Suginami-ku Sweeping Plant, where household garbage was incinerated, which was rebuilt 20 years ago to create the Tokyo Garbage War Memorial Museum.
On my second visit, there was an aunt sitting at the door. She was a local volunteer. To my surprise, she spoke English much better than the average Japanese.
The most impactful thing upon entering the museum is a couple of photographs, in black and white.
Light-colored shirt, the back is densely packed with flies. Families sat around the table and ate their meals, which were covered with gauze, and the eaters had to stick their chopsticks under the gauze to pick up the food. It is hard to imagine such a scene in Koto Ward, Tokyo, in the 1950s.
From the 1950s to the 1970s, Japan experienced a rapid economic takeoff, and the three most popular items in society around 1954 were black-and-white televisions, refrigerators, and washing machines. Ten years later, when the Olympic Games were held in Tokyo, the standard of living of ordinary people improved, and the three major items were upgraded to color TVs, small cars and air conditioners. My generation of Chinese people also caught up with this change.
Living better, consuming more, the amount of garbage has grown in tandem. This growth turned the original landfill into a kingdom of flies. At that time, airplanes were used to spread medicine over the landfill to eliminate flies, and elementary school students carried fly swatters in their school bags.
Life hasn’t been this hard in Koto Ward’s more than 100-year history as the ultimate graveyard for Tokyo’s garbage.
For those in charge of public health matters, there are only two ideas for solving this matter; one is to find a better technical solution to waste disposal. The other is to spread the pressure as far apart as possible. The former challenge is up to scientists and technicians. The latter would require gaming by different groups.
The Tokyo Metropolitan Government plans to build its own garbage disposal workshops in each ward instead of dumping them all on Koto Ward. This plan has caused a backlash.
At that time, there were movements against the construction of garbage disposal workshops in Setagaya, Nerima, and Tamagawa districts. Takaido was part of the Suginami district, and the residents here were the hardest to deal with. How hard to get hold of? From November 14, 1966, when the news of the construction of a garbage disposal workshop in Takaido was announced, to November 25, 1974, when the Tokyo District Magistrate’s Court gave the result that the settlement was established, the whole process lasted eight years.
The memorial systematically describes the eight years of resistance. Residents demonstrated with metal boxes and sticks, and set up sentry points underneath the electricity pylons to prevent the municipal government from surveying the site. In turn, Koto Ward organized protests against Suginami Ward, checking the landfill and banning all garbage from Suginami Ward.
The memorial organizes the history and background of the protests through a variety of media, including text, pictures and videos. There are also various documents and posters from official and private protest organizations. I came across a poster from the Tokyo Metropolitan Sweeping Bureau, which describes the safety of sweeping trucks, odor pollution, the appearance of the factory and environmental issues, and the ability to dispose of garbage, accompanied by cute and easy-to-understand cartoons.
Looking at the files and information, one can imagine what kind of work was done by all parties at the time.
The eight-year struggle must have been complex and difficult to resolve, and full of contradictions. It is not easy to be in the middle of it. In 1971, Ryoichi Minobe, the governor of Tokyo, issued the declaration “Tokyo Garbage War”, which gave the name to the whole struggle. In the end, however, all parties agreed on a set of principles and standards for the construction of cleanup sites that took into account all aspects and details. This set of standards continues to this day as the foundation document for subsequent development.
The legacy of this struggle is clearly more than just a more advanced and open garbage removal workshop. At the end of the exhibition it is written that garbage will continue to be produced as long as human beings exist, which means that the war with garbage will continue. If we are to avoid a second war on garbage, it is of the utmost importance that we do not ignore, but continue to care about garbage together.
In this sense, the memorial itself is the practice of the above passage.
Of course, from my standpoint, there is a significance to this incident beyond environmental protection. When I was watching it, I wondered how I would have handled it if I had been a resident of Takaido at that time. What if I were a resident of Koto Ward? How would I have handled it again.
I believe that the central question driving all sides in the war on trash is not so much about the environment as it is about asking what is reasonably safe and healthy to live. Each player in the war is pursuing its own life. This is true for the residents of Takaido, and it is true for the residents of Koto Ward. eight years of struggle must have made them think a lot and gain a lot. It also made them decide to leave this process and reflection behind and pass it on to those who came after them.
I’ve been to quite a few museums and memorials. Either related to art or history and culture. But there are few memorials that make you look at ordinary life as much as this one does.
If you still have time after visiting the Ghibli Museum in Inokashira Park, why not take the four-stop train and take a look around this small memorial museum?
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