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Präriepost

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Today from Taipei and Osaka

臺北市            大阪市

October 27, 2019

November 10, 2019

It is warm, quite warm in the global city of the Republic of China, comfortable this time of the year. A surprise rain shower fell just one day, the blue sky was visible most other days. The comfortable weather provides a relaxed, busy atmosphere, no one appears to be in a hurry. Although a bit cooler back in Japan, the weather continues to be very pleasant. Sunshine, warm temperatures, no more rain in sight.

The red subway line in the global city brings you to the downtown area, and as soon as people leave the underground station, they see the towering 101 skyscraper. “Stacked moneyboxes,” they say, “so that the city will never be out of fortune.” Inside the shopping mall, the Guccis and Pradas make sure there is always money circulated in this building.

Back in the land of the rising sun, they celebrate the new emperor and empress – a new era has begun. The festivities are unpretentious, much like so many traditions in this colorful country. In the old capital, you can meet the 36 immortal poets who are patiently situated in the Eikan-do temple built in the year 855. Nakatukasa is one of the immortals reflecting on the season:

The autumnal wind

Blows but brings me no message –

Yet that listless breeze,

Where I, a beckoning reed, would whisper

In the rustling of my leaves.

There is rich history in the global city as well, with the Spanish coming in the 1600s, then the Dutch until they were booted out by Koxinga who asserted Chinese culture during the Ming dynasty. The Portuguese called the island “Formosa,” the beautiful island. The French, the British, and then the Japanese all landed with interest, and when the Nationalists fled Communist China, the Republic was born.

Beautiful mountains cover two thirds of the island. The goldmines have long been abandoned, up there in the mountains, but Jiufen, which housed all the miners, is well and alive. Even though it was a ghost town for many years, movies would make the “City of Sadness” famous again. Who would have thought that Hayao Mizayaki would help with the renewal of the city? Jiufen is spirted away.

The night markets are busy and energizing. And they offer unusual specialties that guests should not refuse: stomach, chicken feet with taro balls and tapioca for desert. Din Tai Fung is a must in the global city. Back in the kitchen of Japan, they retreat to comfort food, kushikatsu – 15 different foods, all on a stick with greetings to the Iowa fair.

They sing karaoke in both places. With much practice, any host can shine in their selection of Japanese, Chinese, or English tunes. Their real purpose, though, is to see the Western guest struggle through his turn. There is only one song appropriately coming to mind, “Help…” – the response on the screen – “try harder next time.”

Back in academic quarters, they continue work on blood pressure, weight, and cognitive function. They refine their model on cognitive reserve, highlighting the importance of education, occupational responsibility, engaged lifestyle, social engagement and activity. And they find the census data back from the eighth century, a fragment listing a 93-year old resident. And they learn from the Yoro codex that centenarians were entitled to five caregivers and could not be convicted for a crime.

Here and there, observations about older and disabled people abound. A daughter at the next table ordering two meals, one for herself, one for her mother. The daughter putting on an apron for her mother, preparing the meal with much patience, helping mother to enjoy eating in a public restaurant. In the onsen, a naked son wheeling his naked father into the bath. The father’s elated face. In the train, a woman in a wheelchair with a large bag in her left hand.  How will she manage to get out of the train and move on? An official attendant, waiting for her at the station, wheeling her out to her next destination. A blind man in the subway, trying to hold on, helped by other passengers. How will he find his way when leaving the subway station? An official attendant is already waiting at the subway station to lead him out. Here and there, help is waiting in these two Asian towns, where autumn has arrived, where people assist when needed and where home-town people enjoy a trying karaoke vocalist.

Prairie Post (Today from Tokyo)

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Prairie Post

June 30, 2014

(Today from Tokyo)

It’s been warm, this last week; the temperature has climbed steadily over the last couple of weeks. People lose a little bit of their patience, they complain in their quiet, unassuming ways, and they shelter themselves in air-conditioned rooms or hide underground. Or they listen to some of their favorite stories.

The Pillow of Kantan is one of their much-loved Noh tales. Rosei, a young man seeking enlightenment, wonders about how he should live, and he makes his way to Mount Yōhi in the land of Chu, where he expects to find a wise monk who perhaps knows the answer. He gets himself ready for a long trip. “I need to find out, I simply need to find out,” he exclaims.

Not unlike him, many wonder about the essence of life, the path to longevity, and where, where would we find it. Perhaps we should make our way to distant destinations, places where people are known to live a long life. The fountain of youth somewhere on these islands? Compression of morbidity, here in some corner of this land? “I need to explore, simply explore,” he tells all those who would like to hear.

The path is long and arduous, the walk fatigues and slows down, here, in the mountains of the beautiful countryside, and it is time for a rest. Rosei stops at a guesthouse, hunger plagues him, and he needs more energy. The innkeeper welcomes this unexpected visitor from far away, and suggests that he rests, lay down and put his head on this special pillow. “I will wake you when the millet meal is ready,” she exclaims.

The trip is definitely long, and every day in this country takes up new energy. It is time to rest and to trust the host to provide a good meal, to slow down and contemplate long life, healthy long life, and perhaps respite will provide new insights and discoveries of unchartered places.

Rosei is approached by a messenger who tells him that he will now be the king of this territory; he will rule the land with all splendor and glory. And for fifty years he rules this country, fifty years of recognition, of decisions affecting the lives of many people. How good it must feel to lead the citizens of this country.

And so he dreams of new findings, of new insights into life, long life, and discoveries now come so easy: Exercise, of course, specifically stairs, and stairs, and stairs. Gardening and activity, of course. Nutrition, of course, but not so much what you eat but how you eat, small portions of many dishes, and one of the wisest ones exclaims, “eat everything!” And then, other components: of course, personality, self-discipline, agreeableness, and certainly no anxiousness. “Fear not, do not worry.”  Low stress, adaptability, harmony, kindness, and aesthetics. Support, family and community support, omiyage. Health care, universal health care relating to the long-lived in this country. Cleanliness or purification, onsen for every age. Happiness, physical health, less functional health. The symbolism and culture of longevity makes this perhaps a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Rosei is woken from his dream, the meal is prepared. And he realizes that, just like the kingdom he dreamt of, life itself is but a dream. There is no need to search further, he can go home now.

And so the dream brings this journey to a close. It is time to be pinched, perhaps the secret of longevity, like life itself, is but a dream, here in this beautiful country where people like to go on long hikes carrying parasols, where people like to contemplate and appreciate life for what it is.

Prairie Post (Today from Osaka)

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Prairie Post

February 8, 2014

(Today from Osaka)

It is snowing here, flurries started coming down earlier in the day, and there is much exhilaration in the air.  It only snows once or twice a year, in this city at the Osaka bay. Some of the houses are covered with a very thin layer of snow that reluctantly melts when the temperature starts climbing about mid-morning. There are continuous weather reports on television, trains are not leaving, and people are meticulously cleaning the sidewalks with window squeegees on large extensions, and then they immediately use their trusted brooms to clear the remaining slush. The snow is short-lived here and does not belong to this part of the country where people are used to their comfortable, more predictable, and highly hygienic life.  The snow, though, is a welcome change from the otherwise cool and damp weather pattern of winter.

Students are finishing up their examinations, with much restlessness and anticipation before presenting their final bachelor’s and master’s projects.  They come in their black suits and show a level of nervousness that communicates a rare occasion that they prefer to be left alone, if only for a while. Then they emerge from the academic tribunal with exhaustive relief – the examination is over, although the results will not be known for another month.

But they celebrate already with a nabe feast to which everyone is invited. They pull out the stoves, flip on the gas, boil the water and mix the pork, the cabbage, the mushrooms, the carrots, and after half an hour, the meal is ready to serve. They treat themselves to their best sake, only the best, you should taste it, it is something special indeed.

Meanwhile, the search for longevity continues.  They start the day late but stay long hours into the night. You want to be seen in the office here, it adds more to your prestige than any publication or grant you may get.  There is time to study, to compare, to investigate.  And they find surprising results: Not so favorable is the level of functioning among the very old, here, in this country of extreme old age, not so favorable is their level of cognition. The gerontologist here explains, “old people in Japan are like fish in deep water – they don’t move much but get very old.”  In contrast, he jokes, “old people in the United States are more like sharks – moving all the time, not getting quite so old…”

Our two visitors listen and learn. And they relax at a local onsen, no tourists here, no plush area hidden in a first-class hotel. This is where Jedermann stops by, a crowded place on weekends, a place to contemplate, steam, think, steam, cold water and hot, sauna and bath, steaming, and relaxing, just thinkiiiiing  aboooouuut it ….. makes you ………..feel……………………kind of  …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..relaxed, here……..in the city…..where your worth is measured by how much time you spend in the office, where there is occasional snow, and where people know how to take care of their body and mind.

Prairie Post (Today from Kyoto)

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Prairie Post

January 25, 2014

(Today from Kyoto)

A nice warm-up this morning, in this traditional city of Japan, the sun is hiding behind clouds, and the mountains are barely visible in the back. Spring has not cleared the air but has warmed the city from the bottom up. Wild dog roses are blooming already here and there, and older couples are tending small gardens in front of the monorail station. The days are getting longer and there is cautious, palpable motion in the city.

There are people around, many people who run their weekend errands or who are headed toward the temples. They climb steep hills in the hopes to jump off Kiyomizu’s stage or to find the waterfall that allegedly brings longevity. They meander through parks and visit the Buddha who commemorates those who lost their lives in previous wars. They stop here and there to rest and to eat their udon noodles or rice bowls, and they drink tea, always green tea. Around them are women in beautiful kimonos, and there are white-faced geishas in this colorful, dressed up city, not the jeans-and shirts fashion of neighboring towns.

And they emphasize hygiene. There is no trash; people wear mouth masks to avoid the PM2.5 particles that bind with the sand blown over from China. They diligently clean handrails and tables, they sweep streets and pathways, and they provide guests with towelettes so they can clean up before each meal.  They enjoy their onsen, they shower, they steam, then shower, and they steam again. This is a country of hygiene and cleanliness, body and mind.

The grocery stores are also spotless, they are well-stocked, and organized. But what are these items displayed on shelves and on counters? There is fish, fish, and more fish – only, they are difficult to identify. Where is the salt and what does bouillon look like in this strange assortment of goods? Why are the apples and pears so big, okii desu, okii desu, yes these are apples. Is there only blueberry marmalade here, not raspberry or orange? Why is the white bread as thick as Texas toast and where is the meat?  Is there meat?  No butter here or is it simply packaged differently? And the beer, yes there is beer, but why is it so expensive? A beer tax to curb the alcohol lust?  So they drink happoshu or beer-flavored beverages, the third beer, all with lower malt content that is the basis for beer taxes here. Or they drink green tea, of course, but not all green tea is the same here, is it? And do Japanese ever drink milk? Why is there no cheese in this country? Or cold-cut meat, no cold-cuts, oh yes, I forgot the meager cooked ham slices that did find their way onto the shelves. But radishes, large, white radishes, leeks over leeks, bean sprouts and then again fish, so much unidentifiable fish everywhere, their names seemingly written in miniature calligraphy, not readable to the Western eye.

There does not seem to be advertisement for food or for drinks, and nobody carries soda drinks – this is not the land of Coca Cola. There is no advertisement for the Big Mac, for the Burger King or for Kentucky Fried Chicken. This country is not food-obsessed, food indoctrinated, or food-plagued. Eating comes naturally here, in the Far East, where the weather is already mild, where temples dominate the city and where confusion still rules in the grocery store.