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.