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Mission: Attempting communal living
by Rachel Broady2/ 6/2005
IMAGINE as a child living in a place where people would come and
go at all hours, some staying for days, some for weeks, others for
years. Imagine the house full of noise, the settee creaking from
the weight of constant visitors, the kettle always boiling and the
front door opening and closing as much as the cat flap.
That is how I lived as a child. Now I live alone I thrill at the
silence, at the luxury of switching off the television without
offending anyone and knowledge that my things will always be where
I left them. Communal living is not for me.
So, with this in mind, my editor decided to send me to a communal
home in Manchester that is celebrating its 25th anniversary - with
two original residents still living there - to see if it was a life
I subconsciously yearned for.
The house, in Fallowfield, is shared by six adults and two children
- aged from three to 60 - and boasts three spacious floors, three
toilets and a large garden.
Everyone shares the responsibility of the children, the cooking,
the cleaning and there are enough seats in the living room for
everyone to curl up in the evening. The large garden provides an
escape for those wanting some time alone.
But my childhood terrace home had an outside loo in a yard that
backed on to a filthy canal so things were looking up.
Ann Tucker - an organiser of Garden of Delights festival - has
lived in the house since day one and seems to have retained her
sanity and thrills at communal living.
"It can get exhausting and at times I have thought `I can't cope
with this' but we have the opportunity to retreat," she said.
Perhaps this is why she still loves communal life. The house bought
for a mere £20,000 a quarter of a century ago and extended a little
by converting the cellars into living space, offers enough room so
that those seeking a little solitude can have it.
But still I thought I wouldn't last two minutes returning to
communal living because a trip to the downstairs loo revealed that
locks were not considered a necessity and I couldn't relax with one
foot wedged firmly behind the door.
Communal living demands a relaxed view of the world that I have
lost from living alone.
You need a willingness to share and an ability to control your
moods so that, after a hard day's work, you don't pick a fight just
to have a row and relieve the stress. It's not like living in a
shared house where you can neurotically label your stuff in the
fridge.
You're also not with your family so that person walking in on you
in the bath won't be your sister wanting to borrow your
hairdryer.
I think I'm fairly casual about most things. Each to their own, I
say...so long as they ain't doing it in my living room and, if they
are, they stop when I tell them because I'm the unofficial
boss.
But everyone in the communal house gets a say - from what's on the
telly to what's for tea - and this little democracy down a
tree-lined side street sees weekly meetings to discuss important
matters.
In fact, former residents' opinions still count today.
As silver anniversary celebrations are under way, a book of
memories has been collected including stories of eastern European
bands arriving in the early hours, the late night parties in the
garden and remembering coming home from work to hear people
speaking Bavarian in the kitchen. Others recall Spanish dancers in
the garden and transvestite harpists wandering the halls.
The people living in the communal house share a love of the arts,
of the unusual way of life and of the city.
People living here have also been important in the setting up of
Streets Ahead and are the people behind this week's Garden of
Delights festival at Platt Fields. The Bicycle Doctor started life
here too.
Living with them would mean seeing Manchester at its most
creative.
But it would also mean handing over the remote control, cleaning up
after other people and having a conversation with someone who,
despite no doubt being a wonderful person, I would inevitably wish
would be silent because Corrie was about to start.
Despite assurances that you can tell them to shut up I think
communal living is something I'll remember fondly - but leave to
those who are far less anti-social than me.
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