Aluminum lunch box and cloth wrapping
Aluminum lunch box and cloth wrapping
-The memory of my hands unravels my lunch break-
A winter classroom. Silver lunch boxes are lined up on the stove.
A thin layer of steam rises from the surface of the aluminum as it slowly warms.
The lunch box had been carefully wrapped in cloth by my mother.
The pattern and the way it was tied were slightly different every day.
Lunch break. The moment I unwrap the package, the smell of home fills the air.
It was a memory of a faraway kitchen.
The aluminum lunch box: a "quiet vessel"
Speaking of lunch boxes in the Showa era, aluminum was the norm.
Lightweight and durable with a streamlined design.
Some had characters drawn on them, while others were plain.
When you open the lid, you'll see white rice packed behind the divider.
Omelette, sausages, and stir-fried burdock root.
All of them were designed to be delicious even when cold.
The aluminum lunch box speaks to you with sound even before you start eating.
The clicking sound when you open the lid.
The clang sound when chopsticks hit something.
All of these things made up the lunch break scene.
The "memory of the hands" of cloth wrapping
The cloth used to wrap the lunch box reflected my mother's choice.
Floral, checkered, animal prints.
The fabric changed depending on the mood of the day and the season.
The way it was wrapped also had its own unique character.
Some people tied the corners tightly, while others folded it like a furoshiki.
As I untied the knot, the feeling that remained on my fingertips reminded me of the warmth of home.
The cloth wrapping wasn't just any wrapping.
It was like a letter from mother to child.
Expressing feelings through fabric rather than words.
The "lunchtime ritual" on the stove
In the winter, there was a kerosene stove in the classroom.
Our lunchtime ritual was to place aluminum lunch boxes on top of it and heat them up.
Who will place it where? How much will it be heated?
You can tell how hot it is by the amount of steam that comes out when you open the lid.
Sometimes the omelet would burn if it was too hot.
Still, I was happy to be able to eat a warm meal.
That warmth permeated not only the food, but also my heart.
Fragments of Memory: Poetry and Landscape
When the cloth is unraveled, the pattern chosen by the mother is revealed.
A silver lunch box, steaming, waits quietly.
The sound of chopsticks clinking brings to mind a scene from lunch break.
It is a silent story told by the memories of the hands.
This poem is a fragment of memory, captured during a lunch break in the Showa era.
The aluminum lunch box and cloth wrapping are not just tools;
It was a "container of memories" that subtly conveyed the presence of family.
Now, I'll unwrap it again.
Nowadays, lunch boxes with heat retention functions and microwave-safe containers have become mainstream.
The custom of wrapping things in cloth is also gradually declining.
However, aluminum lunch boxes and cloth packaging have a "memory of the hand" that cannot be measured by convenience.
If you were to pack a lunch box right now.
What kind of pattern will you choose? What kind of feeling will you put into it?
It may become a memory that gently accompanies someone during their lunch break.
Aluminum lunch box and cloth wrapping
It is a quiet and certain form of warmth that bloomed during lunch breaks in the Showa era.
We can recall that feeling over and over again.