Besançon: Akio's Apartment

Almost every nook and cranny of Besançon evoked strong memories of my student days with friends.

When I walked past this courtyard inside which Akio used to live, I felt compelled to take a picture of it.

One of the anecdotes with this Japanese friend took place on the 31st December 1997.

I met him in the language centre in the afternoon. He told me that he was going to spend the last day of the year alone. As I also had no programme, I suggested that we would celebrate it together by having a simple home-cooked dinner. I would be in charge of the food and he would provide the place.

We had an appointment in his apartment. I went back to my place by bus, took out the frozen dumplings in the refrigerator and returned to the city centre, looking for his address since I had just known him several weeks earlier and had never been to his house.

Akio's apartment was on the second floor. After he had opened the door, he said to me, "Excuse me, my place is a mess."

And immediately at the entrance, also welcoming me were socks hanging on a string. I had to bend down to pass under them before I discovered Akio's wonderland: Books, magazines and fallen hair everywhere, dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, colourful smelly juice in the side cup of the rice cooker, etc. A huge black plastic bag was lying on the floor to gather all sorts of rubbish.

When I went into the washroom, there were mushrooms near the tap on the sink due to the humidity! Fallen hair was not picked up from the bathtub. Clothes were waiting to be removed from the washing machine.

Even though I had already visited other male friends' lodging, the fact that a Japanese could stand that kind of living conditions still impressed me enormously. I felt that if I threw Akio into the garbage bag, that would end the whole mess...

Before I could start the preparation, I had to wash the dishes to have space on the stove and clean utensils. When I opened the rice cooker cover, there was rice left over for quite some time. I wondered when he had done his last cooking.

As my frozen dumplings had travelled more than half an hour in open air, they were stick to one another. So, after I had boiled water in a sauce pan, I simply dumped the whole chunk into it and seasoned the soup later. With the heat, the dumplings began to detach. But as some of the skins were torn, the filing fell into the soup.

So that was our first meal together. I would never forget his comment: The appearance was out, but the taste was very good. Although I was quite embarrassed with the presentation of my food, I was very pleased to see him finish everything in the saucepan.

Akio, do you still remember that new year eve dinner?