I came home recently to find teenagers on our back deck, using our wifi.
Don’t worry, they had permission. The internet had gone down at their house, so they’d hot-footed it across the road to use ours. The fact that we weren’t home didn’t make any difference.
And for the umpteenth time since we moved here nearly 30 years ago, I gave thanks for this wonderful urban village that we live in.
We love our house, but it’s just bricks and mortar at the end of the day – what makes it special is the neighbourhood it’s located in. I recently came across a post I wrote six years ago, and it occurred to me that while some of the faces have changed, the essence of our community hasn’t. It’s still a street where folks say hello, share food and conversation, and look out for one other. And it made me wonder – what makes a neighbourhood a village? Why is our little corner of the inner west so magical?
When I was a child, I desperately wanted to live in a village. Perhaps it’s what every new immigrant wants – when my parents arrived in the late 1960s, barely speaking English and the only Chinese family in the area, they left behind all their loved ones. I was only four, but old enough to remember the noise and laughter and camaraderie that filled our house back in Malaysia. We went back for (very) occasional visits as I was growing up, and I have vivid memories of family and friends, gathered around kitchen tables, eating and talking loudly. It seemed to be a wonderful way to live.
So I feel incredibly lucky to have found this neighbourhood.
I love that we’re able to share our food, time and resources in a relaxed, easy way. Mark mows our front lawn, Jane brings me cocktails, and last week, Graeme dropped over sashimi plates and smoked meats. PeteV bought us a fancy bluetooth thermometer for Rosie the Smoker, so that we could sleep through the night rather than getting up three times to check the thermostat. Maude spends early mornings crocheting and drinking tea with me, Margaret made us a jar of her secret family chutney, and on a really good day, June will drop over a plate of her amazing Hungarian cabbage rolls.
In return, we hand out loaves of bread, share our old vintage ports and force feed everyone experimental chocolate. Last weekend, we pulled out an entire bed of perennial leeks from the garden and left them on the back deck so that the neighbours could come and help themselves.
I say “in return”, but in truth, it’s never been a case of quid pro quo. None of us keep track of what we’re giving or receiving, because what’s actually happening is that we’re building a community. Every neighbourly exchange gives us an opportunity to interact, nourish and build relationships, while always respecting each other’s personal space.
It also makes our village a safer place to live – when Pete and I go away, the boys have a dozen numbers to call of folks who will drop everything and run over if they need help (not that it’s such an issue now that they’re both adults). We keep an eye on each other’s houses, chase runaway pets down the road, and text when we think something might be amiss.
Let me give you an example of how well it all works. Darling Norma passed away a couple of months ago at the grand old age of 92. She’d had several strokes and couldn’t remember our names anymore, but she’d been able to keep living at home, on her own, largely because of her neighbours on both sides. They would drive her to doctors’ appointments, take out her rubbish, ring to tell her there was someone at the door (she was quite deaf), and so much more. Norma was born on our street, but it was Jane and Jacinta’s love and care that made it possible for her to spend her final days here.
Over the years, we’ve watched our sons and the other neighbourhood babies grow up and head off into the world, going to university, travelling overseas, starting careers and getting married. I hope that one day, they too will all find villages of their own. ♥
Such a lovely post Celia! If only we could all create this on our own streets…the world would be a much more peaceful and friendly place, don’t you think? x
How wonderful. The world would be a better places with more urban villages like yours Celia.
Oh this is my dream! How very lucky you are. I am so tired, just reading about such beautiful, thoughtful kindness made my eyes well with tears.
May we all be so blessed to find, and create our own village.
xx
Darling Celia — you are the loving hub to our spindly spokes … we love you and thank you for all you do to make our street a village. xx
What a wonderful perspective, Celia, and it encourages me to consider how to expand understanding of the role of an urban village in my own life. I’m really moved!
That is such a lovely reflection Celia and I agree, we are so lucky to live in this little corner of the world. Took a Francophile friend for NZ to Bistro Cocotte last night and enjoyed their baguette, but not as much as I continue to enjoy trying to make sour dough bread as good as yours!! Your generous nature encourages generosity in us all. Thankyou.
We are just about to move to a small lakeside village. I hope we can be a part of building a lovely community just like yours. A really great post, Celia.
Blessings G.
A lovely post, Celia and very much like it is here I do think the Asian communities are very good at caring and sharing with friends and family there is definitely more of a sense of community around here :)
Beautiful post Celia, reminds me of the lovely neighborhood I left behind many years ago in Ireland. Your ‘hood sounds like a wonderful community. ☘☘
Lucky you! I live in an inner city suburb and rarely see neighbours. Luckily I live in a village in Italy.
We have wonderful neighbours but it’s less ‘hands on’ than yours. I know that I can call any if I have a problem (and vice versa) but it’s less sociable than yours. I slightly envy you your neighbourhood 😃
What a wonderful, wonderful village you live in. I’ve had great neighbours before, but not to this extent. You are a blessed woman.
It’s good neighbours that make a house a home isn’t it? I just love to hear “Oo, oo it’s only me” as a neighbour drops by.
That is just the best! I am in the country but can still see my neighbors and we take care of each other also. WHAT a treat!! The way we should all live.
thanks for that lovely post.
A lovely post, Celia, you are indeed fortunate to live in such a wonderful community. Having just moved to the coast, we are the outlanders in the cul de sac. Everyone is friendly, but most just want to keep to themselves, which Peter and I feel is a great pity. It may change as the months pass. Hope so. PS: I’ve been wondering about your Hungarian neighbour, June? How is she?
What wonderful neighbours you are and have. A lovely situation crafted by many likeminded hands & hearts over many years. After many years of city dwelling which I loved and felt very much at home within a loose community, it was time to go back to my roots so I feel fortunate to wash up midlife in a different location but familiar community feels of a tiny country village, smaller but similar to one I grew up in.
Just lovely. xxx
I grew up in a village like this and thought they had all but disappeared. Your description and affection for your neighbourhood is really touching.
I just love the description of you as the loving hub of spindly spokes! We moved house just recently and invited our neighbours to come for drinks to meet the new owner of our house; how i wish we had done that before! So many people came, we had a great evening and i was so sorry to be leaving! Now at our new home in the country i feel a bit lost but we’ve just been invited to a ‘verge’ Christmas party and been given the names and contact details of all the people in the avenue – i’ll be taking your foccacia and choccy slab cake to the gathering xx
How wonderful, Celia – you (and all around you) are fortunate indeed … x
A community like this is a wonderful thing … a place which you and your neighbours have built with your warmheartedness. I think, in an age where loneliness is reportedly increasing at the same time as our digital connectedness is increasing, it’s “villages” like yours that foster warm and caring face-to-face relationships that nurture us. I live in a little pocket of suburbia and we have just farewelled a lovely lady who lived down the street with a evening catch-up on her lawn. Now, there are new neighbours to welcome! I have just looked after my neighbour’s home and garden while they went away for three weeks and they will do the same for us. I don’t think it takes much … a slab of cake, a pile of perennial leeks, a smile or just a wave as you drive up the street. Villages like yours make us and our lives so much richer. Lucky you! Meg:)
What a lovely post and how it made me realize what I miss was that sense of community we had while our children were growing up and how fondly our children now grown reminisce about it and they know how lucky they were to have this experience, unique in Los Angeles. I talk about it and the people who are the fabric of our lives, it truly was. Circumstances change and we carve something else out, it just isn’t the same, but now it is clearer as to what was, thank you.