Japan – Page 10 – 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?).

5/24 Japanese Sense of Nature

Today we discussed two readings: “Is There a Japanese Sense of Nature” by D. P. Martinez and “The Hidden Face of Disaster” by Oguma Eiji. The first article is a stereotype-breaking journey, while the second is about a region’s struggle in finding its place in Japan’s rapid modernization.

Martinez starts with an assumption that there exists a Japanese sense of nature because the understanding of nature in Japan is tightly connected with Shinto and Buddhism. However, just as other cultures, nature is both worshipped and manipulated/used by human. She discusses an example: kami (the Japanese term for deity), or the forces of nature, is often represented in manmade object and we know a rock is kami “because it has been wrapped in folded white paper hung on twisted straw rope”. This example seemed to me the establishment of human power over nature at first, because it implies the containment of kami. However, in Shinto, it is not human that get to decide what is kami and what is not, but rather that everything is kami, so whenever we encounter the sacred object (maybe chosen by a priest), we know kami stands in there. In Martinez’s argument, it is exactly the lack of explicit knowledge of conquering nature that deludes people that there is a Japanese sense of nature; however, this kami example shows that nature is always expressed as surrounded by human touch, which in other name, may be called manipulation. The sense of nature is so delicately embedded and encapsulated in Shinto and Buddhism that even the Japanese believe the infiltrated stereotype that they have a Japanese sense of nature.

Moreover, not only is the sense of nature not unique in Japan, it is used as a tool by the lower class, in the example of fishery. As considered lower by the urban people, fishermen uses the idea of nature to find meaning of themselves and make up for feeling inferior to people of the higher class. Fishermen disdain urban people as they are not able to take care of the environment and unwilling to venture. Partly characterized by the disdain toward each other, the modern divide of class could be one that is not characterized by income but living environment–“an urban middle and working class and a shrinking rural-based population”. As much as modernization benefit people in rural places, it intensifies the divide between rural and urban.

This reading has been very interesting while complicated, as it is a new way to approach the nature to me–I have never thought about how to understand “the sense of nature”, not to mention a Japanese sense of nature. It has been very inspiring to think about nature in the perspective of religion, sociology and politics.

And then Tohoku is where no respect for nature is shown, as modernization abuses the area and made it extra-vulnerable to disasters, 3/11 as an example. The struggle of Tohoku as “the Tibet of Japan” is the result of modernization, and the Oguma suggested at the end that it requires change in the socio-economic structure of the country in order to deal with the problems Tohoku is facing. The country has enjoyed sweet fruits of modernization; maybe it’s time for Japan and all of us to think about how to deal with the consequences and side effects of modernization.

Natural Places, Hidden Faces, Built Spaces, and Acidic Hazes

I think it really speaks to the interdisciplinary nature (contested word choice intentional) that echoes of our previous discussions return in subsequent ones. Case in point: today’s discussion–on topics ranging from a Japanese sense of nature, to the history and path-dependence behind Touhoku, to Tokyo’s “built environment,” to acid rain–returned us to ideas of nature, Buddhism, and fisheries from the past two days. And if you’ll allow me, dear reader, a moment of mid-afternoon meta thinking on this project before I launch into today’s discussion, I think that any relevant environmentally-related question or concern or solution is going to be and must be interdisciplinary by (and here’s that word again) nature. To delve into such complex issues with anything less than an interdisciplinary, open-minded approach is to risk oversimplification.

I’ll have to ask you to also excuse my rather wordy, rambling style of writing these past few days and especially today. I tend to be wordy as a default, but I’ve been battling a sore throat these last several days and last night I didn’t sleep too well. I tend to get more rambling when I’m exhausted…

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Our very own Professors Selinger and Christmas of this trip led the discussions today on “Is there a Japanese Sense of Nature?” by D. P. Martinez (apparently an anthropologist turned film scholar) and “The Hidden Face of Disaster” by Eiji Oguma. Our discussion on the Japanese sense of nature led us on a wonderfully wide-ranging exploration of topics such as Buddhism and Shinto, and how they’ve played into this stereotype of a Japanese reverence or “sense” of nature. That is, that there is a certain “privileged” and “unique” Japanese relationship or understanding of nature derived from these two religions. Here, we saw echoes of Gerlin’s presentation on Buddhism, especially as Buddhist ideology would suggest transcending the natural, transcending dualities, and that there is no privileged relationship with nature. Shinto, meanwhile, is also a major source of these “Japanese sense of nature” stereotypes, owing to the kami that inhabit manufactured and natural objects (a tree, for instance, around which someone has tied a braided paper cord). And yes, it certainly caught my attention when Miyazaki was mentioned; nature seems to abound in his films, filled with magical creatures and a certain awe or nostalgia for the rural and natural. It brought me back to my first year seminar on Japanese Animation (speaking of nostalgia…).

I think “The Hidden Face of Disaster” was much more a historical account than I was expecting. I found out today that Eiji Oguma is or describes himself as a “historical sociologist,” so I suppose that makes sense. It was definitely informative, learning the seemingly path-dependent history of Touhoku as it transitioned from “pristine, untouched wilderness” to rice fields or rice basin to industrial modernization to nuclear proliferation–the latter three evidently at the hands of the Tokyo urban center. It made me wonder to what extent a parallel can be drawn between Touhoku/Tokyo and the American colonies/Great Britain. Put simply, Touhoku and its people were subject to the whims of people in Tokyo (who may or may not know or care what went on in Touhoku). Even as the nuclear disaster unfolded, Touhoku was deadlocked. Yet again, echoes of the (very recent) past returned to our discussion; we asked among ourselves, “Was the Touhoku earthquake and nuclear reactor meltdown a natural disaster according to Oguma?”, much as we did with Satsuki Takahashi’s “Four-fold Disaster” reading. Oguma arrived at a similar conclusion: that the earthquake and tsunami were by all accounts “natural,” while the nuclear reactor meltdown, radiation fears, and Touhoku’s path-dependent history leading up to it were “manmade.”

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We closed the day with presentations by Ethan and Nan on Tokyo’s “built-environments” (i.e. places and things made by people; infrastructure, roads, etc.) and acid rain in Japan, respectively, followed by packing and safety tips courtesy of Aridome-sensei and his wife, Anna-san. This is starting to get real long (it was quite a long day), so I’ll try to wrap up shortly. Overall, I thought today’s discussions were really quite fascinating in the way the intermixed and meshed with each other and previous discussions. As a (marine) biologist at heart, anthropological and historical discussions on “the Japanese sense of nature” and the history behind Touhoku were relatively new ground to me. I also thought that it was especially interesting that Shinjuku is one of the “built-environments” of Tokyo, noted in “Tokyo’s Third Rebuilding” as a built environment that takes you out of the city. We’ll be staying in Shinjuku, near Waseda University, so this was particularly relevant for us, geographically; it’ll be interesting to see firsthand what that author was describing.

I’ll close out, I suppose, with a question posed to you, the reader, to consider as you follow our journey: What kinds of built-environments do you find yourself in and on what temporal and spatial scales? What meanings do they and how you interact with them hold for you?

The Fisheries

Day 2 of prep was filled with things I never considered before. Fisheries. I have always been afraid of the unknown ocean content and depth. Furthermore, not having full control (relative to on land) drives me away from wanting to be submerged in the pressurized water.

I began thinking that the fisheries trends would be simple patterns of fish populations’ decrease over the recent era, reflecting the increasingly productive and efficient technologies. Then, hopefully, some sort of governmental regulation or economic incentives could be enforced to regulate the amount of fish caught. By then, I expected the fisheries to return to normal after some time. Surprisingly, and scarily, there is an additional dip in the population, after things start to look optimistic. Although not a science person, I really appreciated Professor Johnson’s explanation of the population over time graph (with exponential growth, carrying capacity, and population equations). I think it provides a useful (and different) framework to track and explain predictions and trends in our current world.

One thing that triggered me to continue asking questions was Selinger-sensei’s initial question: what “area of study”/POV does the author write from? I, very “naturally,” assumed that because the article was one of fisheries and ecology/technology, that the author had a particular interest in more STEM fields. Not true, especially reflected in another piece talking about the anthropological reactions to Fukushima radiation consequences and stigma. As I meet more experts, I want to be able to ask and to understand where each person is coming from and why they choose this approach. I think that while reflecting on the fisheries, we inherently reveal more about our individual thinking (and, of course, bias) than the actual unpredictability of the massive ocean.

EDIT: I also wanted to include that Christmas-sensei brought up a wonderful question in response to my presentation on Buddhism in Japan about the physical material used to structure temples/shrines/statues. What are the relationships between the ideology and the execution?