"Sakura Tram"

On a Thursday afternoon in Tokyo, my interest in Haruki Murakami’s work prompted a visit to the Waseda International House of Literature. To my disappointment, it was closed for summer break. I wandered around the campus before exiting through the North Gate, where I stumbled upon the starting station of the Toden Arakawa Line: Waseda Station.

The view of Waseda Station from the boarding platform

Though also a modest tram line, it felt very different from the Arashiyama Line in Kyoto. Lacking modern amenities like platform screen doors or vending machines, the single-track station was simple yet refined. Instead of the usual exaggerated advertisements one sees in other train stations, both sides of the platform were lined with well-tended plants and community notice boards. These details created a heartfelt warmth; it was a welcome contrast to the urban estrangement often associated with Tokyo. In short, I was impressed.

My surprise continued when the tram arrived. It was strikingly modern, with a clean, white interior that stood apart from the dark, lacquered wood I’d seen in older models. It wasn’t brand new, however; faint signs of wear on the paint along vents, handles, and doors suggested it had been in service for some time.

The “Sakura Tram” at Waseda Station waiting for departure

The passengers were another distinction. As far as I could tell, there were no tourists on board. Most of the locals aboard were on the older side. The journey itself was surprisingly green, with vegetation lining the tracks and adding to the line’s gentle, welcoming atmosphere. As the tram moved between stations, it was gradually filled. About a quarter of the way into the route, the one-car tram was two-thirds full of seniors, while parents with strollers, people off from work, and students heading home from juku occupied the remaining space. I later found out that the line was free for seniors, which explains the high ridership among seniors.

I eventually dozed off, waking to find the tram had yet to make it through even half of the route. Indeed, it was extremely slow; despite running on dedicated tracks, largely separated from traffic; the route, about 12 kilometers in length, took almost an hour from beginning to end.

View of the Toden Minowa Station exit from the platform

Being on Tokyo’s only remaining public tram line, this short yet lengthy journey made me ponder the city’s evolution. On one hand, great continuity exists: Tokyo remains the cultural and economic center of the nation, as it was before and after the devastating war that ended in 1945. The (in)famous Yamanote Line has served passengers for almost 140 years; Tokyo’s position as an epicenter of change in Japan has largely not been unchallenged since the Meiji Restoration. Yet, the city is as organic as any living being, constantly undergoing transformations. One might even say this constant process of change is part of its continuity. The tram, then, is a way in which these changes are remembered. When people board the Sakura tram, which may lack the efficiency and speed of the subway (as they are introduced to replace trams), they are also continuing the memorial of the city’s past. Therefore, I felt a profound, personal connection to riding this line.