Natural Disasters

If the bodies are not found and identified and their families given the peace of knowing, the festering lack of closure will take its toll. The government will forever face the quiet condemnation of the masses, that it made too little effort to act decisively when action was required.

As it is, over a month after the crippling earthquake and tsunami devastated Japan and left its population in a state of collective shock, and its industry enfeebled, it is too late.

Bodies of the drowned have been washed too far out for recovery. The dead, lying under deep layers upon layers of quake-destroyed buildings are steadily decaying and too few have been recovered, despite the tasking of 25,000 Japanese troops dispatched in recovery efforts at the worst scenes of disaster. There are 74 schoolchildren missing at an elementary school.

The official tally is 14,340 people killed in the triple disaster. With 11,889 officially missing. Not yet accounted for, but missing. It is those 11,889 whose bodies are being sought for recovery, accounting and burial. It is the government's responsibility to attempt to see that this is done. It is a government being accountable past a disaster it could not cope with.

Poking about in the twisted wreckage of what were once municipal buildings, shopping emporiums, schools, apartments and devastated homes is proving to be a monumental and dangerous task. Aircraft and ships, police, coast guard officers, all engaged in a large sweep for the possible location and discovery of bodies offshore. Fewer than 500 found, thus far.

And there's another dimension of tragedy as well, as once-productive farmland, now abandoned as a result of a government-ordered nuclear-evacuation zone. Farm animals deserted, left to slowly perish, unable to fend for themselves as domesticated and incapable of looking to their own needs. The evacuation zone encompasses 370 farms.

On those farms were four thousand cattle, thirty-thousand pigs, and six-hundred-thirty-thousand poultry. The Japanese who once proudly practised animal husbandry and farmed their acreage, are no longer there, but elsewhere, fearing for their health and mourning their lost livelihoods. Veterinarians have been dispatched to evaluate the situation, the dead animals.

The surrounding air, soil and ocean have been contaminated by radiation from the nuclear plant at Fukushima. Regional farm production has been banned. Automobile manufacturers have been unable to start up and regularize their production lines resulting in a shortage of parts and overall production shortfalls.

People are desperately concerned about the continued spread of radiation, of an increased evacuation zone. Farmers who have lost their livelihoods and sometimes family members are in utter despair. Some have committed suicide. And Japanese health authorities anticipate a rising wave of grief and anguish contributing to greater numbers of suicides.

This is a country in which pride and honour contribute to viewing suicide as a solution, the ultimate act of humble contrition. For those whose livelihoods have disappeared and who can see no future for themselves, the benefits of an insurance policy paid may assist their families if their suicides can be attributed to natural causes.

Which, in effect, they most certainly can be.

Tokyo

Living in Japan you understand the extent to which the Japanese are discriminating and demanding consumers. They generally eschew pesticides. Japanese growing their own fruit trees in their tiny garden plots will painstakingly wrap each pear, plum, or any other fruit while hanging from tree branches, in paper bags to keep them free from pests as they ripen.

The Japanese consumer demands freshness and quality in their food products. And now the Japanese consumer must contend with the reality that for the time being, their drinking water has been contaminated with radiation, as well as the food they are growing.

For a nation that was horribly traumatized by two of the world's only atomic bomb attacks at the conclusion of World War II, at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, this represents the ultimate nightmare, the troika of tragedy that assailed them in 2011.

One of these events; the monumental earthquake, the hugely destructive tsunami, and now the dire threat of nuclear installations proving unstable and ready to explode, would have been enough to bring most nations to their knees. The stolid, courteous Japanese, accustomed by culture and heritage to orderly and subdued acceptance, await delivery from their nightmare.

There are countless children who are now orphans, and other children who, having survived their ordeal, have lost one parent, and their childhood. One wonders how they will survive to a balanced adulthood with those dreadful memories forever looming deep inside to be retrieved without their will or assent.

This is certainly, most certainly, not the Tokyo I knew and treasured, with its constant hubbub, its busy life, its localized communities revolving around mutually-obligated work site and temple, and village-atmosphere shopping areas; the fish-mongers, tea shops, kissaten, fruiterers, florists, rice shops.

Where in the centre of Tokyo, high-rise apartments sported the tongues of countless sleeping mats hung from windows to air throughout the day, until needed once again in the evenings, as Tokyo slept. Where road work crews set out to repair municipal roads at night, while few cars were on the road, so the following day's traffic could proceed unimpeded.

Where taxis were immaculately maintained by their white-gloved drivers who meticulously dusted them inside and out, to present clean surfaces to their clients. Where in dense traffic never a car horn would be heard, and motorists, stopped at red lights, turned off their ignitions until the light turned green, to automatically conserve energy.

Where consummately beautiful displays of art were underwritten and held for display in the great shopping emporiums in the Ginza, Akihabara, Shinjuku, Shibuya, Oriental Bazaar and other areas, at the Seibu, Mitsukoshi, Isetan, Odakyu, Tokyu department stores. Where stylish clothing, exquisite porcelains and lacquerware could be found.

Where, on the street, the great Japanese Kodo drummers would set up their equipment and entertain passers-by, and invite one now and again to try their hand at beating the drums. Those drums, whose deep, living sound would vibrate deep in the chests of those standing and listening, as though they were live souls whose voices the drummers freed.

Still there, but muted, threatened. With the population quietly awaiting events to unfold. To inform them whether their lives will return to normalcy, or become further compromised.

A Courageous Light To The World

An honour code and love of country so compelling that people are willing to surrender their lives in support of doing everything humanly possible and technically impossible to aid Japan in its time of need. It is difficult to even imagine that people would of their own accord, answer that ultimate call to duty. A call which, in the severity of its reality, is weighted with the prospect of the ultimate sacrifice.

Yet this is precisely what dedicated nuclear technicians, plant managers and others associated with the dreadful situation at the stricken Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant have without a murmur of negative reaction dedicated themselves to. Sacrificing their potential to live healthy, prolonged lives with their families, to achieve the greater social good; using their expertise to desperately attempt to turn around the catastrophic situation at the out-of-control power plant.

This kind of inspirational selflessness draws admiration for the strength of character this kind of action represents as dedication to country and society. There are not too many, however, who would place themselves in such danger for any reason. In Japanese society, ingrained throughout life in the need for social cohesion and service to the country, a very different mindset obtains. Sacrifice on behalf of the entire society is a given.

The traditions of the culture demand no less. Japan may be in many respects a cloistered society, one that demands much of itself and which prides itself on its monoculture, its heritage as a Buddhist society living in harmony with a huge population on a relatively small area of land continually embattled by the encroaching elements, but it stands as a beacon of what a people can accomplish through defeat.

Rising like the proverbial phoenix of antiquity from the ashes of two deliberate atomic concussions that levelled two major cities, leaving a legacy of dread and apprehension about the control and potential ruination through nuclear power. And now facing its crucible of endurance yet again with nuclear power proving its nemesis-adversarial capacity in the wake of nature's assaults; a massive quake birthing a brutal tsunami.

Japan stands as its own light to the world at large.

Where Has The Future Gone?

The Tokyo I knew when I lived there and thrived with the thrill of living in such a dynamic, exotic, historical and culturally intriguing city of huge spread and quaint custom is in dramatic suspension. Suddenly and horribly, the city that hosted millions of residents whose disposition to one another was quietly orderly and proudly confident has lost its self-confidence and is awash with insecurity.

The city where everything was available for the discriminating purchaser, where the food was always fresh and wonderfully appealing to meet the discriminating demands of a population that appreciated the importance of living well and healthfully now finds itself in need of the most basic consumables; potable water and food. The shelves of food shops are yawning empty, and people have frightening concerns about where they will find the necessities of life to sustain them.

Winston Churchill, during the Second World War and Britain's heroic battle with Nazi Germany, spoke to his people to give them confidence in themselves and their future. Japan's prime minister has been doing the very same thing, recalling them to their tradition of forbearance and determination, patience and endurance. The Japanese people have responded with trust in their government and in the future, for they are resilient and hopeful.

But hope and trust fade measurably when opportunities for survival seem to diminish, when aid becomes difficult to offer, when shelter from the winter elements, the cold, the unavailability of food and water, medical attention and rescue from dire circumstances become complicated by forces beyond the control of mere humanity. And the dread potential of a nuclear meltdown looming on the near horizon.

This is not the well-operated, confident city that I knew and lived so comfortably within. This is a dread place of fear and insecurity, where the future looks dim and shaded in dark bruised colours of desperation. And a wonder how all of this could possibly have occurred to a people that have already suffered more than its share of misery.

Buddhist Heritage

The incomprehensible tragedy that Nature has brought to Japan is beyond belief. People who are superstitious often succumb to a belief that 'bad things' happen in the order of three succeeding events, one following on the other, each event transcending the other in orders of magnitude. It's hard to see which of the three disasters newly visited on Japan, might be considered the most horrible.

The unprecedented earthquake in terms of sheer terrifying scale which wrenched an always-alert population to the understanding that this very particular quake was far different from its countless predecessors would have been confidence-eroding and difficult enough to comprehend. Followed instantly by a matching-in-degree tsunami (who knew such disturbed oceanic waves travel at the speed of a jet plane?!) seemed to trump the tremblor.

Earthquake-coded buildings seemed to weather most of the effects of the earth's terrifying movement. But the resulting tsunami - of which neither it nor the earthquake gave prior warning - wrought incalculable damage, as an immense, unstoppable watery cliff bore down, and as thousands of Japanese perished and their property dissolved under the sheer force of nature's immense totalitarian power.

And then, the nuclear power stations, those fearful installations that humankind in their arrogance feels it can tame until Nature takes the upper hand just to demonstrate what she is capable of. The outcome of the failure of the generators, the overheating of the nuclear cores, the explosions, the exposure of the fuel rods, the escaping radiation, and the exodus of desperate people.

This country of consummate courtesy, with its reverence for nature, balancing its fearful respect for nature's forces, as a societally organic coping mechanism has and will continue to aid the people to overcome this seemingly insurmountable set of disasters. The Japanese are a stoic, proud, determined people honouring their past with admirable fortitude and endurance.

Japan has endured in the past and continues to do so now. It experiences about ten percent of the world's seismic activity. The Japanese never forget how vulnerable they are in their oceanic perch. They are never permitted to forget it, since quakes of various magnitudes are felt continually. Once such a quake is experienced it is never forgotten. You wait. Certain yet uncertain that the shaking will soon stop.

It does, eventually. The number of seconds it takes before it does stretch out interminably in time. Seconds become much longer, larger elements of time. But it finishes and everything returns to normal. And normal is the expectation that it will happen again, and again and again. Elsewhere, that trite little phrase "what does not kill will strengthen" has meaning in Japan. That frail people have rigid spines.

"In the past we have overcome all kinds of hardships. Each of you should accept the responsibility to overcome this crisis and try to create a new Japan."

On The Richter Scale

A small country, but a dynamic and powerful one, with the world's third-most-important economy. Still struggling to emerge from a decade of financial weakness, and beginning to see the light of day on its economy. A country comprised of three islands; a large central one, a northern and a southern island. Geographically close to countries that resent it mightily because of past indiscretions as a once-martial nation.

Still respectful of its monarchy though no longer regarding it as divine, and now a staunch democracy, Japan has gone through many changes over the last century. It has faced many challenges during that period of change and surmounted them all. The Japanese are a resilient, compliant people, tending to obey authority. How else could so many people live in harmony on those tight little islands?

Compliant but not complacent. The security that most people once held dear in employment for life, and loyalty to the employer and a small-town-life attitude even while living in a huge metropolis, faded, imposing great pain as the economy waned. A nation of powerful corporations and small shopkeepers representing a huge proportion of the country's wealth.

A country now heavily in debt. And suddenly all those problems on reflection seem to have been far more preferable than what the country looks like one day on from the one before. On Tuesday there was a relatively modest tremblor, on Wednesday another, and then on Thursday a viciously brutal earthquake that has transformed Japan's major island.

The Japanese are accustomed to earthquakes, they occur continually throughout the course of a year. This is an earthquake-prone area, sitting within the notorious 'ring of fire'. Every household has a prepared earthquake kit, to grab as they exit their homes. Of course, tremblors do not occur only when people are at home.

They happen when they're at work, when they're out shopping, out and about engaged in recreational events, or touring, or attending a temple, or gardening. An earthquake that engages you when you're sitting within the confines of your home is vastly different than one that occurs when you're on the 20th floor of an office tower, or when you're out of doors.

Wherever it occurs it engenders in you a feeling of disbelief, of helplessness, of awe and fear. But this was not the ordinary garden-variety kind of trembling of the earth that people have long been accustomed to. This one was 8.9 on the Richter scale, and fearsome in its tremendous earth-shaking, destructive power.

And ... and the tsunamis that followed, and the inundation and the washing away of homes, vehicles, boats, trains, the mudslides that followed, the collapses, the ruination of human habitation, the perishing of too many helpless human beings.

Suited Up For the Job

Royals and Popes sit on toilet seats just like anyone else. Not the usual symbol of common humanity but close enough. The equivalent of that shared human function is the knowledge a woman has of her husband. Inscrutable to others, but familiar to her.

Women who shrewdly assess the all-too-human and often quite particular lack of positive assets of their unprepossessing spouses. Whom they, nonetheless hold dear. Most wives are more discreet about their familial wisdom. They keep it to themselves, held tightly close where there is no danger of it accidentally spilling into the light of day, perhaps to harm a husband's aspirations.

Then there are those women whose tongues will not be stopped. They wag constantly directly in front of their husbands, spelling out fully their perceptions, informing the man of his failings and he is left to shrug and get on with his life. It takes quite the relationship and quite the special man to weigh what his wife says against their life together and the manner in which they otherwise treat one another, and his feelings about her.

Seems Japan's new prime minister, Naoto Kan, must be one of those special men. If so, it would appear his kindly disposition is directed toward his wife only. One reads he is referred to as "irritable Kan", reflective of his quick temper.

On the other hand, it is entirely possible that Mr. and Mrs. Kan have some extremely electric conversations, disquieting discussions with one another. Probing, piercing, darting and deflecting. And perhaps their emotional bond is sufficiently strong to accept as normal for them that situation, one which would most surely be destructive of most intimate relationships.

Nobuko Kan has published a book. Obviously a tell-all book, since she discusses her husband's abilities and spectacular lack of them for a public figure quite frankly. Only her opinion, of course, but who knows a husband better than a wife? Certainly not the husband, since most people see themselves as they prefer to.

"I wonder, 'Is it OK that the man is prime minister?' - because I know him so well," appears to be one of the little zingers to appear in her book, What on Earth Will Change in Japan after You Become Prime Minister? Either these two enjoy a solidly strident love-hate relationship, or they're quite simply immune to each other's barbs.

Quite unlike, on the face of it, Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi, and his beautiful wife who is divorcing her husband because of his irrepressible public sexual imbroglios. One would naturally assume that Mr. Berlusconi hardly represents Prime Ministerial material, yet he has been voted into office more than once, his publicly unseemly peccadilloes notwithstanding.

"Many people in the current political world are light-weights. Things may turn out like this if you choose from among them. Kan likes to be in the field. I believe he is best suited to giving directions on the spot in support of somebody else." But wait, there's much worse, alas, for the poor man appears to have "no interest in fashion at all", and is incapable of cooking the simplest of meals "because of the bad education by me and his mother."

"Even as a family member, I could not give him even a passing grade for his delivery of a policy speech, or for the question-and-answer sessions after he became prime minister." Give the guy a break, he's only held the office for a month...? Sounds as though an otherwise-loving wife is completing a vendetta-curse.

Well, holy soya-sauce! Men in Japan, particularly men of Mr. Kan's vintage were never expected to do housewifely things. This kind of expectation is not normal in Japan, where the genders have their strictly separate roles, and male children are doted on by their grandmothers, their mothers, and usually their wives as well.

Mrs. Kan is quite obviously not a traditional Japanese wife; not for her humble paces behind her husband. "I will do what I can as his wife, but I'd also like to keep my own freedom", she says. No kidding. No problem.

As for Mr. Kan, he accords her the title of "officious opposition". (Just kidding, her hubbie-conferred title is actually "opposition in the home".) Long may they fondly bicker.

Found In Favour

Imagine, a brutal felon - charged , convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment for a deliberate murder spree where four young Canadians and a Minnesota police officer lost their lives - is deemed to have the right to sue on the basis of having had his human rights overlooked. What amazing values we have, as a liberal society, infused with a concern over the well-being of mass murderers, intent on seeing that someone like Gregory McMaster does not suffer.

Thirty-one years ago he took the lives of four human beings, all of them far finer representatives of our species than he, but through our system of institutionalized universal human rights recognition - extended even to the most atrociously-behaved among us, convicted of serial murder - he is guaranteed such basic rights.

The families of those he murdered will live forever with the pain and torment of knowing their loved ones' opportunities to experience life on any level, was viciously removed.

In our great collective wisdom - our need to know that we behave with a tender concern for the well-being of all, the non-deserving as well as those who do deserve the caution of careful thought and compassion - we have entitled this man, representative of the lowest spectrum of depraved human descent, to insist on his 'rights'.

And thus it is that an appeal court has ruled Canadian taxes must fund $6,000 to this prison inmate in acknowledgement of his "pain and suffering", occasioned by a strain to a knee while exercising, wearing year-and-a-half-old running shoes. Not just any replacements would do for this man; he required extra-wide Size 13 New Balance running shoes.

The "appalling delay" in providing this footwear to this killing machine was cited by Federal Court Judge Leonard Mandamin as reason to reject the federal government's appeal of a ruling by Prothonotary Kevin Aalto when he blasted prison authorities for their unappealing laxity in failing to provide precisely that foot gear for the prisoner's exercise routine.

The lawyer for this murderer congratulates himself for the ruling. John L. Hill's argument is that in his successful prosecution of his client's case, the way has been opened for the general public to go to court in instances when they consider themselves to have been ill-done-by on the part of a federal or provincial civil servant. He flatters himself with frail defence.

He may feel good about arguing for a murderer, but the ordinary person-on-the-street may feel justified in their aversion of lawyers' moral standards, in yet another representation of questionable defence, outrageous outcome.

In the original suit against the federal government the demand was for $50,000 in damages resulting from "misfeasance in public office"; failing to provide adequate footwear in this instance. In the event, the award amounted to $9,000 with $3,000 deducted in acknowledgement of the prisoner's continuing his work-outs despite wearing the old worn-out running shoes.

A slap on the side of the head at the authorities at Fenbrook Institutions who were held to have abused their powers in deliberately withholding the requested footwear. A reminder to public authority figures in our prison system that prisoners' rights must be taken seriously; a reasonable proposition and requirement in most instances, a downright grating one in some instances.

And an obnoxious fist in the pocket of the law-abiding, taxpaying public.

The Chrysanthemum Throne

Canada is currently hosting Japan's Imperial Majesties, the Emperor and Empress of Japan. Emperor Akihiti and Empress Michiko are on a private visit to the country, first to spend time in Ottawa, then on to Toronto, Victoria and Vancouver. Japanese emigrants to Canada settled primarily on the country's West Coast, in the early 19th Century. Actually, there is much about British Columbia, particularly Victoria and Vancouver that seems reminiscent of Japan. Mostly the weather, the topography to an extent, and the flora.

Japan, needless to say, is comprised of a set of three islands, and is mountainous besides, so it doesn't have the land mass of even one Canadian province, itself mountainous, but with ample room to stretch. At one time the Government of Japan was actually trying to persuade its elderly to move to Victoria, and many did. Younger Japanese were somewhat less anxious to leave their country of birth; once gone they could never return and be viewed by their peers as being the same. They would be foreigners.

It's interesting to note the long trade relationship between Canada and Japan. The land that Canada owns in Tokyo is considerable, its acquisition dating back to the first quarter of the 20th Century. In a city of some fourteen-million people, where land is at a premium and people live in crowded districts, in high-rise apartments too small to have the appurtenances of a Western home, that kind of land ownership is akin to resembling the land on which the Imperial palaces stand.

Japanese people adore nature. They live in crowded urban communities and crowded rural communities as well. Space is at a real premium, and so are housing and rental prices. There are few gardens in Japanese cities, and those that do exist are postage-stamp size. Growing fruit trees and lovely Japanese maples. Peoples' prized bonsai and their fishbowls with resident goldfish are placed outside the front stoop, sometimes right on busy main streets. And they always safe from pillage; people respect private property.

The Japanese adore nothing more than to set out on a trek, a mountain climb through various villages leading up to well-worn mountain paths. At their summits many have temples, some dedicated to notable monks. Some host giant and elderly ginko trees. There are some forest trails that wind through bamboo forests, with typical stone Japanese lanterns scattered here and there, and tea houses where ceremonial green tea can be partaken of. First, however, one must suffer the rigours of exiting cities, by subway, train and bus.

Japanese respect public property. As they do the rights of others to be safe and secure in public. The Japanese criminal class could be distinguished by the large, black vehicles they drove, while everyone else drove white, ivory or off-white vehicles, in a monochrome of traffic anxious to move, but held back by the very press of its crowded streets. Yet motorcyclists and bicyclists ride alongside the cars and the trucks, with relative respect. Parked cars, motorbikes or bicycles can be left unlocked, and they will not be tampered with.

Japan is seen as the world's second-largest economy, despite the two recent economic set-backs it has experienced in back-to-back recessions. It is Canada's third most important trading partner, and fourth most important investment source, mostly concentrated in the manufacture of automobiles, and resource extraction. The two countries - mostly Canada - are moving toward a free trade agreement. The major difficulty in succeeding in one between the two countries would be the protectionist agricultural sector in Japan.

Japanese are extremely fastidious about the quality of their food. And they feel that food grown themselves, carefully, and with due attention to good growing methods, with a bare minimum of pesticide use benefit them enormously. Indeed, the food grown in the country (and imported from elsewhere) is vastly superior in quality and taste to that available in most other countries. The fruits and vegetables and fish of far better quality and taste. Japanaese consumers demand no less.

Although Japanese have gradually become accustomed to their own versions of western-style supermarkets, most shopping is still done in small mom-and-pop stores specializing as tea shops, rice shops, fish mongers, butchers, noodle or bread shops, greengrocers and fruiterers. Consumers demand excellence and they get it. Try to shop for rice in various places, to get a 'better price' and you soon discover that no matter where you buy your rice, it will be priced the same. That's the rice-farming lobby.

Japanese believe they grow the best rice in the world. And people who grow accustomed to Japanese rice agree with them. This country of 217+million people with a long, distinguished culture, art, traditions, and respect for nature, where people living in cramped togetherness have learned to be socially-receptive to close communion, distinguishes itself as a peaceful nation after the calamity of its Axis-affiliated nuclear reception in defeat during WWII.

That the Emperor and Empress have decided to make an unusual trip to Canada following one that the Emperor took in the 1950s as a prince awaiting his destiny, favours this country immensely. Their lively curiosity to experience the vastness of this country and its natural beauty does them great credit at their advanced age. Their appreciation of all they survey on this visit, their joyful communication with those they greet echoes that of the people who have come out to witness another kind of history.