六瓢息災：2024年11月29日（金）

中学生の頃，志賀直哉の短編小説「清兵衛と瓢箪」を読んで瓢箪に何某かの興味を持っていた。いまから48〜46年前，私は高校時代に，名古屋に行ったときのお土産で購入した千成瓢箪の種を愛知県豊川市の実家の庭に蒔いたところ，これがまるで糸瓜を育てるかのように順調にスクスクと成長し，たくさんの瓢箪の実が収穫できるまでになった。これが契機となって，その後，千成瓢箪以外の種類の瓢箪の種をどういった経路で入手できたのかは記憶が定かではないのだが，結構大きくなる大瓢箪も庭に育つようになった。

　大学時代には早稲田大学の大隈講堂の近くに下宿をしていたのだが，その後も実家の庭には，毎年，たくさんの瓢箪が穫れたので，収穫できた瓢箪を愛知から東京の早稲田の下宿先まで郵送で送ってもらい，下宿で乾燥させて磨く作業を行い，10個ほどの瓢箪を一本の紐に結びつけて簾（すだれ）のようなものを作り，下宿部屋の東の窓に掛けていた。集計すると，全部で100個ほどの瓢箪からなる，いわば「瓢箪カーテン」となった。

　下宿先は，3階建てのビルで，大家さんが1階と2階に暮らしておられ，3階に4部屋があり，大学生の下宿人が部屋を借りていた。東の窓に「瓢箪カーテン」を吊るしていたので，建物の外側の通りの道路からも数多くの瓢箪の影が見える。ある日，大家さんの奥様から「藤井さん，窓に瓢箪みたいなものがたくさん見えるんだけど，あれはなんでしょう？」と問い掛けられたことがあった。「瓢箪で作ったカーテンです。」と答えると，「不思議なものに興味がおありなんですね。あんなにたくさんの瓢箪はどうされたんですか。」とおっしゃるので，「田舎で穫れたものです。」と説明すると，それはそれは感心されるので，いくつかの瓢箪を差し上げたところ，たいへん感謝された覚えがある。

　私の下宿部屋に，大学時代の友人や三菱銀行に内定組（4年次生）の友人たちがよく遊びに来てくれていたのだが，下宿部屋に入ってまず最初にびっくりするのが，世間ではあまり見られない，この「瓢箪カーテン」であった。「藤井は変わりもんだよねえ」といったコメントが積もりに積もって，40年近く経っても，三菱銀行の同窓同期会で「下宿の瓢箪カーテン，覚えているよ」と言われることがある。三菱銀行に入行した当時も「瓢箪の藤井」と言えば，私のことであった。

　銀行入行後2年半にして，私は結婚をしたのであるが，結婚披露宴の引出物に6つの瓢箪からなる「六瓢息災」（無病息災，むびょうそくさい，上の写真）を出すことにした。今になってつくづく思うのだが，出席者の方々には大変迷惑な引出物を選んでしまったと反省している。しかしながら，それでも，出席者の中にはいま持って大切に保管してくれている人（時習館高校同窓同期の安藤君）もいるという。本当にありがたい話である。

Six Gourds for Well-Being: Friday, November 29, 2024

When I was in middle school, I read Shiga Naoya’s short story Seibei and the Gourds (Seibei to Hyotan), which sparked a certain interest in gourds. Around 48 to 46 years ago, during my high school days, I planted seeds of Sennari Gourds (a type of miniature gourd) in the garden of my family home in Toyokawa City, Aichi Prefecture. I had purchased these seeds as a souvenir during a trip to Nagoya. To my delight, the plants grew vigorously, much like sponge gourds, and eventually produced an abundant harvest of gourd fruits.

This experience became the starting point for my interest in growing other types of gourds. Although I cannot clearly recall how I obtained the seeds of larger varieties, I eventually began cultivating large gourds in the same garden.

During my university years, I rented a room near Okuma Auditorium at Waseda University. Even then, my family continued to harvest plenty of gourds from our garden each year. They would send the harvested gourds by mail from Aichi to my lodgings in Tokyo, where I dried and polished them. I strung about ten gourds together on a single cord, creating a screen-like decoration that I hung over the east-facing window of my room. In total, the screen became a “gourd curtain” composed of roughly 100 gourds.

The boarding house where I lived was a three-story building. The landlord and his family lived on the first and second floors, while the third floor had four rooms rented out to university students. I had hung a “gourd curtain” on the east-facing window of my room, so from the street outside, one could see the shadows of numerous gourds.

One day, the landlord’s wife asked me, “Fujii-san, I can see a lot of what look like gourds hanging in your window. What are those?” When I explained, “It’s a curtain made of gourds,” she remarked, “You have an interest in such unusual things. How did you come by so many gourds?” I replied, “They were harvested back in the countryside,” which greatly impressed her.

I remember giving her a few of the gourds, and she was very appreciative of the gesture.

Friends from university and those who had already secured job offers with Mitsubishi Bank often visited my room. Without fail, the first thing that surprised them was this unusual “gourd curtain,” something rarely seen elsewhere. Comments like, “Fujii is such an odd one,” accumulated over time. Even now, nearly 40 years later, when I attend alumni gatherings with my Mitsubishi Bank colleagues, someone invariably remarks, “I still remember that gourd curtain at your place.” During my early days at the bank, “Gourd Fujii” became something of a nickname for me.

Two and a half years into my time at the bank, I got married. For our wedding reception, I decided to give a unique party favor: Mubyo Sokusai (“Six Gourds for Well-Being,” symbolizing good health, as the Japanese phrase mubyo sokusai implies). Looking back now, I deeply regret how burdensome this must have been for our guests. However, despite this, I have heard that some attendees, such as my high school classmate Ando from Jishukan High School, still treasure and carefully keep it to this day. I am truly grateful for such kindness.