May 2017 – Page 6 – Japan and the Environment 2017

Enter into an Immersive World

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been going to aquariums. Anytime my family and I would take trips and vacations, we’d HAVE to go to an aquarium. I’m not even sure just how many times I’ve gone to Maritime Aquarium, in Norwalk, alone; they just never get old for me. So I want to start off this blog entry part 2 (the sequel; see here for part 1) by just saying, I’m really excited to be reading about and discussing and visiting aquariums.

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For my pre-trip presentation on aquariums, I read a chapter, “Zoological Gardens of Japan” by Ken Kawata and “Ciliated Sense” by Eva Hayward. I was a little disappointed in how little the former talked about aquariums, but it did provide me (and I think, my peers during my presentation) some history on aquariums in Japan. Pre-WWII, aquariums were pretty uncommon, but then proliferated and became very popular post-war. Kawata partially attributes this to a cultural phenomenon relating to Japan’s status as an island nation. Like Kawata, I also would’ve expected marine life and aquatic environments to have a profound influence on “language, culture, and food habits.” But the question I had, and posed to my peers, was, “Why only after WWII does this cultural phenomenon occur? It’s not like Japan suddenly became an island nation.” Perhaps a post-war liberation from wartime duties and resource devotion to a war effort? Newfound leisure money?

I’ll put it simply: “Ciliated Sense” was absolutely fascinating. To use an analogy, if I was expecting to dive into a relatively shallow pool, say maybe 9 feet in depth, I think what I got was the Marianas Trench. That is, Eva Hayward puts forth a really interesting, deep discussion of immersion and perception as they relate to aquariums, that I won’t really have time or space to go into here. I highly recommend checking it out, though.

“Ciliated Sense” details the Monterrey Bay Aquarium, so I framed my discussion of aquariums from a Western aquariums perspective; I’m looking forward to seeing how Oota-sensei and the Tokyo Sea Life Park might parallel or challenge my ideas of aquariums. Aquariums began as early as the 19th century in Europe, with “aqua vivariums.” These were geared towards the affluent and to sate intellectual curiosity and religious and biological insights. These aquariums coincided with a time when the oceans were considered a dark, cold, alien world and its inhabitants even more so. So these exhibits, then, became a way to dominate, contain, compartmentalize, and study non-human inhabitants and demonstrate biological knowledge and technological achievement. I think these early ideas really highlight and hearken back to our previous discussions on the “West as conquering nature” ideas, sad as that may sound (especially for me as a marine biologist/ecologist at heart).

Hayward argues, using the Drifters exhibit in Monterrey Bay Aquarium, that at some point modern aquariums shifted to a less binary-generating role. Instead, she suggests, using increasingly more advanced technology and optics, aquarium displays can immerse the viewer in the underwater world of the non-human inhabitants. So instead of contrasting “man-made” and “natural” in aquariums, it seems more a blurring and integration of those binaries. Aquariums such as the Monterrey Bay Aquarium as best as they can aim to recreate and simulate natural ecosystems. Hayward has two major conclusions that I think really resonate with how I also view aquariums: “Animal displays are not simply about seeing the human reflected back upon us” and “We are not only immersed in virtuality; we are immersed in deep marine techno-science worlds.”

Along with those conclusions, I’ll leave you, dear reader, with another series of questions I proposed to my peers:

What do you think of when you hear “aquarium”?
What do aquariums mean to you? Perhaps a specific aquarium?
Why do you go to aquariums? What do you get out of them?

Enter into the Home

I’m going to break up today’s blog entry into two discrete posts, since they’ve been getting rather long recently (which definitely speaks to the complexity of the topics and our engagement with them!). This entry is on kanpo, or traditional (a term I use hesitantly) Japanese medicine, and genkan (entryway) etiquette. Part 2 (the sequel?) will be on my presentation on aquariums and immersion. I don’t mean to elevate my own discussion or project as separate from Valeria’s or the general group discussion, but I think kanpo and genkan etiquette actually go hand in hand, as I think you’ll see. And I don’t mean to toot my own horn, so to speak, by even writing about my own presentation, but I want to share the ideas I read about in “Ciliated Sense” because I think they’re absolutely fascinating. Apologies for the long disclosure; now for our feature presentation!

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How ironic and relevant it is, to be discussing “illness” and “disease” and medicine (Kanpo and Western), at the same time I, myself, am fighting a sore throat and cold. When, just the other day, I went into the Bowdoin Health Center for diagnosis and treatment.

Kanpo is a little hard to define without slipping into binary traps or comparing it to Western medicine and practice, since until today that’s all I really knew. From Valeria’s and Professor Selinger’s presentations and discussions today, if I understand this correctly, kanpo and “Japanese Germs” are very much about “purity vs impurity” (note: an entirely different sense from the historical/anthropological “purity” from Day 1) and treating imbalance. It contrasts the clean (pure) inside with the dirty (impure) outside or below. So for instance, and as an incredibly relevant example as you’ll see later in this post, the genkan or entryway of a Japanese home, where you take off your shoes, has a raised step. That is, what’s considered “inside and raised” is meant to be kept clean from the impurities of the “outside and below”–hence why you take off your shoes there.

I thought it was particularly interesting about how these ideas of purity and impurity evidently arose with the Kojiki, a work which contains origin and creation stories of Japan. I’ve always been really intrigued by these kinds of stories, oddly enough, despite my “scientific” disposition. In short, Izanagi’s wife died and went to the underworld. After some time, Izanagi decided to venture into the underworld to see her (I’m unclear whether this is like an Orpheus story where he wanted to return her to the world of the living or if it was just to visit). While there, Izanagi was contaminated, owing to the death, dead bodies, and illnesses of the underworld. Back on the surface, the purifying waters of a river cleansed Izanagi and from cleansing deities were born: Amaterasu, Susano-o, especially, among many others.

We continued our discussion by contrasting kanpo and Western medicine as well as pathology (study of disease-causing agents) and etiology (circumstances that led to contraction of a disease). As an example, my pathology might be whatever virus, bacteria, etc. that infected my throat and upper respiratory tract. My etiology, however, would probably be staying up late after finals were over and some friends were visiting, thereby weakening my immune system and allowing me to contract whatever my friend had. I thought it was also particularly interesting the idea of ひえしょ(hiesho) or “coldness (sensitivity).” It’s an idea common, I think, to both Western and kanpo practices, in that being cold can somehow lead to illness. While I agree that hot things are wonderful when you’re sick (trust me, I’ve been drinking copious amounts of tea and soup), I wonder if in certain sicknesses cold or cool things are also useful. When you have a fever, for instance. Or just the other day, we went to the Gelato Fiasco, and I found the cool, creamy gelato to be really soothing to my sore throat. I digress.

To summarize, we came up with a list of binaries that might accurately contrast kanpo (left) and Western (right) medicine:

illness vs disease
- treating imbalance vs pathogen
  - treating chronic vs acute sickness
    - correlative vs “magic bullet” thinking
      - body as homeostatic system vs as discrete parts
        
        diagnosis vs treatment
        
        healing vs curing
        
        healing goal: restore balance (a fluid, moving, context- and environment-specific target)
        
        curing goal: rid body of specific pathogen

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Respect. Appreciation. I think they’re a bit underrated, perhaps a bit neglected terms. I don’t mean to be cynical here and I’m not trying to say everyone is necessarily disrespectful or unappreciative, but I think it’s definitely something that at the very least takes a subconscious or subtle role in our lives. In contrast, respect and appreciation are huge, I think, in Japanese culture. From my second year (二年生 = ni nensei) language studies, we learned a lot about how much respect and social norms are embedded within the language itself. Take Keigo, which I briefly talked about the other day, in which you humble yourself and honor the socially-distant or socially-superior person. Or, take a typical exchange between a host and a visitor to that home:

Visitor removes coat and rings doorbell, before waiting for host.
Visitor: ごめんください。ボウドイン大学です。

Host opens door and lets visitor into the genkan.
Visitor: 本日はおまねきをいただきまして、ありがとうございます。
Host: ああ、どうぞ、おあがりください。
Visitor: (pause) じゃあ、しつれいします/おじゃまします。

Visitor takes shoes off in genkan, being careful not to touch their socks to the lower, "outside" portion, and neatly sets shoes to the side.
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After being shown to a seat, the visitor offers a gift of appreciation.
Visitor: これ、つまらないものですが。。。
Host: ああ、いいですよ、いいですよ。
Visitor: いえ、ほんの気持ちだけですから。。。

Romaji:

Visitor removes coat and rings doorbell, before waiting for host.
Visitor: Gomenkudasai. Bowdoin daigaku desu.

Host opens door and lets visitor into the genkan.
Visitor: Honjitsu wa omaneki wo itadakimashite, arigatou gozaimasu.
Host: Ah, douzo, o-agarikudasai.
Visitor: (pause) Jaa, shitsureishimasu/ojamashimasu.

Visitor takes shoes off in genkan, being careful not to touch their socks to the lower, "outside" portion, and neatly sets shoes to the side.
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After being shown to a seat, the visitor offers a gift of appreciation.
Visitor: Kore, tsumaranai mono desu ga...
Host: Ah, iidesu yo, iidesu yo.
Visitor: Ie, hon no kimochi dake desu kara...

Basically, this exchange is all about respectfully entering someone else’s home after you’ve been invited in and showing gratitude for that invitation through gift culture. This kind of social exchange is definitely super important. Time to get memorizing of these set phrases (13 hour plane ride, anyone?).

A Sense of Nature…?Nah.

The prevalent Japanese stereotype is that of an individual who reveres nature and generally has a greater appreciation of nature. Discussions from D.P. Martinez’s article “Is there a Japanese sense of Nature” led to the conclusion of there is not an innate-but rather an appreciation of nature perfected by human touch (Japanese artwork in which nature is manipulated to represent spirits or other aspects of nature).

Man-made vs Natural disaster:

Oguma Eiji poses an interesting and thought-provoking history of Tohoku and its relationship with Tokyo. Throughout the article there seems to be a theme of disregard of people in Tohoku by the policy-makers and maybe even the population as a whole of Tokyo. The disaster at Fukushima and the whole of Tohoku was set up by the path in which it was placed my policymakers and directors in Tokyo since Japan’s rapid modernization in the late 20th century. This is not to say that a tsunami would not have happened, but rather the conditions in which Tohoku found itself at the time of the tsunami was that of a rather poor depopulated region. As modernization/industrialization was prioritized the continuous disregard of Tohoku as the periphery and the careless decisions concerning the population continued. Why was Tohoku the designated rice production? Knowing the devastating consequences of removing factories from this villages would have, why did they do it? Many have asked the question of: Why were the Nuclear plants established in a earthquake proned area? Maybe because of the “open space” and its proximity to Tokyo and the fact that its not Tokyo but Tokyo’s “backyard?”

“Nuclear power and democracy are not compatible” How and why?

Oguma Eiji puts the disaster of March 11 under the light of justice and as an activist he demands answers and envisions a better future. Although mentioned in his article, I’d like to know more about what he thinks the odds are for the reconstruction and restoration of the Tohoku region.

Nan’s brief history and statistics on acid rain an Yokkaichi were examples of how serious pollution problems were during Japan’s rapid industrialization and modernization in the late 20th century. She mentions the power balances between the organizations who have economic power vs. health/wellness/environmental agencies, the economic view point is prioritized.

Particularly interesting from the Ethan’s presentation on the concept of Built Environments was Tokyo’s constant demolition and reconstruction as a new space with retention of the old. Ethan mentioned specific Tokyo neighborhoods that illustrate the idea of Built Spaces, particularly Shinjuku, which were our Airbnb is located. I can’t wait to actually see and experience Tokyo as an international city in which one can feel as if abroad (not in Japan).

Japanese Nature Then and Now

I’m pretty exhausted after spending 6 hours listening to commencement speeches and hearing names belonging to mostly strangers being called, but hopefully my thoughts on today’s readings are coherent. Thanks to Gerlin for sending over some notes from the discussion today!

These were the articles we focused on:

Is There a Japanese Sense of Nature? by D.P. Martinez
The Hidden Face of Disaster: 3.11, the Historical Structure and Future of Japan’s Northeast by Oguma Eiji

Japan is viewed as nature-revering. But how do the Japanese view nature? I doubt that this question can ever really be answered, but Martinez attempts to by noting how nature instills cultural nationalism, which is powerful because it brings people together. What I found interesting was at the end of the first article, the author brings up a hypocrisy of Japanese actions. For example, Martinez mentions the huge recycling effort in Japan happening simultaneously with Japanese companies supporting deforestation in Indonesia. Martinez resolves that by saying Japanese people still have a special relationship with nature even when it’s not in its “purest” form. Generalizing Japan/how Japanese people view something makes me feel uneasy, but I think it’s important especially in preparation for this trip to think about the Japanese sense of nature.

Nuclear power generation is concentrated in grain-producing regions, like Tohoku. The second reading gave a more historical account of Tohoku. He pointed out a dichotomy between the rural and urban sense of nature, with the former being more relevant to Tohoku. -Another super cool thing is that we have been invited into this author’s home!!! Here are some questions to consider: What does it mean to the people of this area to be part of the “rice basket”? How do they move forward from disasters?

It’s been very interesting to read these types of texts. I haven’t taken a humanities class in a while, and I’m definitely more comfortable with reading scientific literature. So I’m glad that we’re given the opportunity to discuss and think critically about this material. Doing these readings helps me realize that while science is important, it needs more to make a difference. What I mean is that science doesn’t exist without social, cultural, and political contexts, and I’m super glad that I have the opportunity to engage more in these contexts.

The Nature of the Nation

Today brought us back into the seminar room in the Asian Studies building to further explore ideas about nature, environment, and environmental issues in Japan. I’ve found over the past three days that our little prep discussions are a unique space — we aren’t taking class; rather, we’re playing with themes across various disciplines including biology, ecology, anthropology, sociology, and history and applying these to our own specific interests. I think that this is why our discussions have been so engaging and dynamic.

Today we confronted an important question: “Is there a Japanese Sense of Nature?” D.P. Martinez, a Marine Anthropologist, poses this question as the title to a chapter which was our guiding reading for discussion. The biggest issue with asking this question is assuming that there is an answer. I’ll try to put that in a less snarky way. It’s nearly impossible to look at each historical era, each region, even each person in Japan and say that there are totally unifying beliefs about nature that are unique to Japan. Another issue is that the question presupposes what nature is and that nature itself is clearly defined. Varying ideas of nature within aspects of Japanese culture including Shintoism and Buddhism show that is not quite clearly defined across the board.

To wrap our heads around this question of nature, we thought about kami in Shintoism. Kami, or Gods, could manifest on the earth in materials of the environment such as a rock. The kami in a Shinto shrine, however, is not just a rock. It is wrapped in cloth and tied or has some similar accoutrements. Okay, so the rock — categorized as natural since it comes from the environment — is nature just with some slight modifications. But put yourself in the shoes of the person who assembled this kami. They handled the rock. They wrapped the cloth around the rock. A conclusion that can be drawn here is that the this aspect of nature does not have meaning to people until after it has been handled and given meaning in human social structures. I realize that I have somewhat departed from the question of a Japanese sense of nature but it’s also useful to dig into the materiality of objects and how their interaction with human hands classifies as natural or not.

A geographic center-periphery struggle also appears in Martinez’s work. Fishermen lamented neglectful practices of urbanite beachgoers who left the seashore dirty and did not respect the environment to the standards of the fishermen. But if there is a Japanese sense of nature, wouldn’t the urbanites share the same values of the environment as the fishermen? Clearly this is not the case and so views of nature must differ between different segments of the population of Japan. Although we challenged the notion that this is a geographic divide. It is probable that geography is not the best measure as rural and coastal areas continually urbanize throughout Japan.

In our time today we also looked at the history of Tohoku leading up to 3/11 in an article by Oguma Eiji — a renowned historical sociologist whom we will have the honor of meeting in Tokyo. Although we didn’t mention the term, I felt that Oguma points out an issue of environmental justice, in which the government puts an unequal environmental burden on a specific population. Although there were no immediate environmental threats to Tohoku during the 20th century (that I know of), I think that this is an issue of environmental justice because of the economic disadvantage put on Tohoku which did not allow them to recover in the wake of a natural disaster. More directly, the unnatural disaster of the nuclear meltdown unfairly harmed Tohoku more than anywhere else in Japan even though Tokyo primarily benefited from the energy from the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant.

As we continue to read and share our thoughts, I am getting excited to experiment and test these ideas in Tokyo. I hope that the experience of directly interacting with places relevant to our projects will inspire clarity or, perhaps more beneficially, allow us to more finely hone our research questions.