Serving as a hanchō

Susan and I entered the gate to the local community center for a local festival. We greeted some of our neighbors and their children who were dressed in colorful yukata. A gentleman in a suit approached us.

“Are you Mr. Edwards?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So, you’re the hanchō, right? I’ve never seen a foreigner’s name on the list of hanchō.”

Wherever we’ve lived in Japan, there’s always been a hanchō, a person responsible for a small group of houses in their neighborhood. (This system varies by neighborhood, and many urban areas no longer maintain the custom.) A hanchō is a resident who serves for a term determined by that neighborhood—often for one year, although I’ve heard of six-month terms. Often houses are listed in a certain order, and when it’s your turn, someone in the house will serve as the hanchō for the given term. It’s not necessarily the head of the household, but they are the ones often listed on the official documents.

Twice in our years in Japan we’ve been asked to take this responsibility, both times just before we would leave for home service. The second time that happened, we were returning to the same house the following year, so the next household took our turn with the understanding that we would do it when we returned. My wife, Susan, served as hanchō from March 2017 to February 2018. The primary responsibilities are to collect neighborhood dues and charity contributions, distribute the kairanban (explained further down in the article), attend monthly meetings, and find volunteers for community events.

Collecting money

In our neighborhood, Susan was responsible for 22 households, which were divided up into two groups of eleven. Early in her term of service, she had to go to each house and collect the annual fees—in our neighborhood it was 4,800 yen for home owners and 3,000 yen for renters. This was a time-consuming task as not everyone is home at the same time, so Susan had to go out several days at different times. But it did give her the opportunity to meet at least one person in every household.

Our neighborhood had an annual collection for the Red Cross. I think other neighborhoods collect for different charities such as the Red Feather Community Chest. Again, Susan was responsible to go to every household and ask for voluntary contributions and record the amounts given. This was not usually done at the same time as the annual neighborhood fee, so it was another good opportunity for Susan to meet people.

Distributing the kairanban

The kairanban is a clipboard, file, or folder with information pertaining to that neighborhood. In our neighborhood this included announcements about upcoming events, newsletters from the local jidōkan (a child center run by the local council) and schools, and warnings if there had been any questionable people seen in the community (we think my brother who was visiting us might have been one such suspicious person mentioned). At one place we lived, there was a map with red circles indicating where dog poop had been found and a reminder to please clean up after your pets. There might be news of road construction or other work that might affect traffic. Occasionally there was an order form for purchasing items. Community leaders received packets of information every two weeks—once at the monthly meeting and once from a shed behind the community center.

In our neighborhood, Susan divided the information packets in two and attached each bundle to a clipboard, one for each for group of eleven households. Every family name was listed in house-location order with a box beneath their name to sign or insert their personal seal (hanko) indicating that the clipboard had been received. In this neighborhood we also dated when we were passing the kairanban on to the next household. I suppose this was to identify if anyone habitually prevented the information from getting around to everyone in a timely manner (we now try to inform the hanchō or the neighbor before us if we are going to be out of town for more than a day or two).

Once the kairanban is read and signed, it is taken to the next household on the list. Some people ring the doorbell and hand it over, some put it in the mailbox, and others lean it by the front door. You learn what the next person prefers by asking them. The kairanban was usually passed around every two weeks, so we hoped that within 14 days, they would both end up back at our house so the next set of information could be prepared.

Monthly meetings

Susan attended monthly meetings of the chōnaikai (neighborhood association) at the local community center. When she arrived, low tables and zabuton (flat floor cushions) were already set up. At the head table were four or five people who led the meeting, and behind them sat several others. At the other tables sat all the hanchō for our chō (町) or section of Sendai. Often at each place was a bottle of tea or water, a printed paper with the agenda, and packets of information papers for the next kairanban. The leaders of the meeting then went through the agenda. Reports about events, appeals for volunteers for upcoming events, and financial reports were always on the agenda. As the other hanchō did not live in our immediate neighborhood, Susan was able to meet other people we would not normally see in our daily lives.

Finding volunteers

This was perhaps the most difficult task for Susan, the primary reason being that most of the community events were held on Sundays, specifically Sunday mornings. In that section of Sendai, the events included a disaster-prevention drill, a community undōkai (sports day), a bazaar, and a festival. If we had not agreed to be the cooperating missionaries of a Japanese church and therefore come under the leadership of a Japanese pastor, we probably would have skipped worship service in order to be involved in some of these events. But Susan and I were rarely able to serve as volunteers ourselves, and so it was awkward to ask others to serve when we couldn’t.

Fortunately, the chōnaikai was understanding, as were some of our neighbors whom Susan had befriended. These women often volunteered or helped Susan find volunteers. On one occasion, a woman at the monthly meeting, who was not even from our neighborhood, served as one of our neighborhood’s volunteers.

Great honor and important responsibility

We’ve learned that renters are often not asked to serve in this way. Therefore, we believe that having been asked to be a hanchō is evidence of full acceptance of our belonging in the neighborhood even as foreigners and as Christians.

The responsibilities of a hanchō are significant, but the benefits are also substantial. Having to go to each house gave Susan a culturally acceptable reason to speak to people in every house. With that connection, they could recognize each other out on the streets and at the stores. On a couple occasions, the residents invited Susan in for tea. She got to learn about their families and interests, and remembered that information for future conversations.

By serving as a hanchō, we demonstrated our willingness to serve the community in the same way that the Japanese people serve. We did not avoid the obligatory duties that the Japanese themselves usually accept. As foreigners and as Christians, it would be easy to make excuses. But by willingly taking on the job and being honest about our limitations (language, unavailable on Sunday mornings, etc.), our neighbors worked to accommodate us. Jesus said, “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45 NIV). We consider it a great honor and an important responsibility to serve as a neighborhood hanchō. We are thankful for the experience and for the way our neighbors demonstrated their acceptance of us into their community and the way we could demonstrate the servant heart of Jesus.