OVERVIEW

VANCOUVER — In the spring of 1977, a group of Japanese-Canadians planted a grove of Sakura cherry trees in Oppenheimer Park, right in the heart of Vancouver. It was a celebration of 100 years of pan-Pacific connection, a century since the first Japanese immigrant arrived on these shores.

That immigrant was Nagano Manzo, and he arrived in New Westminister from Nagasaki, a stowaway on a British ship travelling from Yokohama. He would fish for salmon, and load timber into ships bound for the East. He was the first issei, the first Japanese person to become a Canadian; many more would follow.

The cherry blossom petals are long gone now, and the promise of a warm summer beckons. The sidewalks are filled with people coming and going – one stops on her bike to chat.

“That’s beautiful,” she says, “what a great little Honda!”

This is Hiroko Marunaka’s 1977 Honda Civic. It really is beautiful, isn’t it? Simple, petite, cheerful. Its freshly detailed paint shimmers, its chrome gleams. It is humble, but obviously well cared-for, a prized possession and a wellspring of history.

By 1977, Honda was in its fourth year of selling automobiles in Canada. The Civic led that spearhead in 1973, and you only need look at the sales results from the last decade and a half to see how things went: the Civic is the best-selling car in Canada again, for the 17th time in a row. Good grief, we’re a predictable lot.

Change was coming, both in the automotive sector and in the lives of Japanese Canadians. When Canada went to war with Japan in 1941, property confiscations and internment camps ripped the heart out of Japantown. When people gathered together to plant these trees, they also planted the seeds of redress. It was time for this community to take its proper place in our country’s cultural mosaic.

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These first Hondas were unlike anything seen on the streets of Vancouver. This particular one sold out of a dealership in North Vancouver, and has covered just 87,000 kilometres since new. Actually, never mind “since new,” the thing is practically as-new. There’s a bit of fading on the badges, but it is basically a time capsule straight to the ’70s.

With a transverse-mounted 1,238-cc engine making a sprightly 52 horsepower, front-wheel-drive, and room enough for four, the Civic was a revelation on our roads. Up against cut-down rear-drive drudgery like the Gremlin and the Pinto, it was efficient and fun. And adorable: just look at its happy little face.

Marunaka turns the key in the ignition and her Civic – Kinjiro is its name – bursts to fizzy life. The Civic’s simple reliability is something Canadians couldn’t get enough of, and while the cars were short-lived in Eastern Canada, thanks to salty roads and rust, many examples survived out west.

“Kinjiro” means “second golden boy” in Japanese, an unusual name for a car. But then, Marunaka is an unusual person. She is from Okayama, near Osaka, and has come to B.C. to study nursing. It would be usual for someone with a commute to buy a dependable little Civic, of course, but one from 1977?

Marunaka laughs. “I just really like old stuff,” she says, “antique furniture, old buildings. I think about all the people that have lived in a place or touched something. Many people, including me, have loved this car.”

Many Canadians really did love the original Honda Civic. I’d expect everyone has some kind of story involving this little car. It might have been a first new ride, a friend’s weekend getaway machine in college, a parent’s well-loved car. The Civic picked us up from school, took us on our first dates, drove away from churches with tin cans tied to its bumper and a “Just Married” sign hung in the back window. It went on road trips, got wrenched on by amateur mechanics, was handed down to the kids, got sent to the wreckers.

But not this one. Marunaka’s Civic is near-perfect from its tiny dome light to its never-used ashtray. The previous owner bought it as an anniversary present for his wife, but with three kids she hardly drove the car. Marunaka found it, and, well…

“I fell in love instantly!” she beams.

The Civic is well kept, polished and pampered, yet driven regularly. Rumbling over the cobblestones of Gastown and running through the downtown core, it’s hilarious to watch onlookers turn and stare. An orange Aston-Martin V12 Vantage convertible gets ignored. The humble little Japanese economy car has everyone beaming.

Fitted with a two-speed Hondamatic, straight-line performance is not the Civic’s strong suit. Still, it’s peppy and lively, with a curb weight below 700 kilograms. It zips through Vancouver’s traffic, dodging gargantuan SUVs and crossovers like a proto-mammal scurrying past dinosaurs.

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“I sometimes feel like I’m dating a celebrity,” Marunaka says. “Japanese people are quite shy, and wouldn’t come up to talk to a stranger, but Canadians are much more open. Someone’s always asking me about the car.”

With her exams done, she is waiting to see whether she will be returning to Japan, or perhaps moving to the Maritimes to find work. Over the next few months, the decision will be made to go back, or to stay here and become issei.

The Civic stayed. Honda soon brought out the larger Accord in 1976, and began building Civics in Alliston, Ont., in 1988. The car had become nissei, a second generation Japanese-Canadian. It would go on to develop its own unique North American identity.

We end our drive in Stanley Park, near the Japanese-Canadian War Memorial cenotaph. Some 196 Japanese-Canadians volunteered to fight in the First World War, hoping to prove their loyalty to their new homeland. One quarter were killed, one half wounded.

When war was declared a second time, the flame was extinguished and the War Measures Act came into effect. In 1988, a decade after those cherry trees were planted, it was finally lit again.

Marunaka is selling her cherished Civic. Even if she goes East to the Maritimes, as she hopes, she doesn’t want the car to be exposed to the harsh conditions. It’s time for little Kinjiro to find a new home, a new name.

In Oppenheimer Park, the green cherry leaves rustle in the breeze. You can find cherry groves all over the city now, of course, and there are cherry blossom festivals right across the country. The trees are strong, beautiful, healthy. Their roots run deep.