[Years of August
]
August.... The first thing that comes up in my mind is the 15th, the anniversary of the end of WW II.
After 76 years, the majority of Japanese people seem to be forgetful or even ignorant of the significance of this date,
and it seems as if it is rapidly becoming just one more historical event half-remembered from school lessons.
This small island country rose to its feet after the staggering devastation caused by the War, and in an extraordinarily short time
became the second largest economic power in the world, a position it has recently ceded to China.
Now our nation has been reduced to a second rate country most notable for its inverted population pyramid, an unprecedented,
rapidly aging population and low birthrate. The inverted pyramid had brought about a shortage of labor along with the gradual diminution
of gross domestic product. It has also given rise to a variety of serious social problems, such as difficulties in maintaining the social infrastructure
and the imminent collapse of the social security system which supports medical insurance.
In addition, frequent occurrences of large-scale natural disasters like typhoons, torrential rainfalls and huge earthquakes involving tsunamis
entail enormous financial expenditure every year. The novel coronavirus pandemic has made the situation even more dire.
We have to overcome these serious problems as they threaten the continued existence of this country as an independent entity.
To do this, we must establish firm social foundations.
To that purpose, the government must take peremptory and sweeping measures based on a long-term perspective,
for which the understanding and cooperation of the majority of people are a prerequisite.
Concurrently, we need to sort out pressing ongoing social and economic logjams. For example, we should review present excessive
which causes society an enormous financial burden. Perhaps as before, natural death without artificial life support
life-prolonging medical care which merely delays the end would be more desirable. But it is drastic measures concerning our shrinking population,
whether they are long term or temporary and make-shift, which are crucial to maintaining Japan as a self-sustaining and independent country.
(H. Tarumi)
"Hello, Kazuyo, are you going to go somewhere for your Obon holiday?
If not, would you come to our Independence Day celebration? You can find out how we spend the holiday. Tomorrow at Dogo Park, starting at 9."
Nia, an Indonesian friend of mine, sent me this text six years ago. I was thrilled with her invitation.
What an honor! But I had no idea what to wear for the ceremony and asked her for advice.
Nia told me that batik was their dress code. If that was difficult, I should put on something red.
Why red?' Maybe she was referring to their red and white national flag, the red symbolizing the courage and blood of the Indonesian people.
Since my old batik dress didn't fit me any longer, I chose a red dress instead.
The next morning, I arrived at Dogo Park with my husband and our youngest girl.
The chairperson of the Indonesian association in Ehime solemnly welcomed us.
Following a flag ceremony, we enjoyed playing games with the children, just like the ones held at Sports Day events in Japan.
Afterwards, Nia invited us to a big feast of amazing, rich Indonesian dishes.
I'd never realized there were that many Indonesian people studying, working, and living in Matsuyama and all across Ehime.
They maintain a close community, and they treated us like VIPs because we three were the only non-Indonesian guests to attend.
I never considered the severe hardships suffered by the Indonesian people under Japanese rule during WWII,
but I did learn that, two days after the defeat of Japan, Indonesia declared their independence on August 17, 1945.
Since that summer, August 17 is a special day for me to remember.
Thinking of my Indonesian friends and their families, Happy 76th Independence Day, 2021!
(Kazuyo)
One sizzling hot day 20 years ago, I was back in my hometown.
There I learned of tragic events that shook me to the core.
Our next-door neighbor, a respected school teacher in his 40's, went to visit his father's grave.
He then walked into the forest near our place and hanged himself. He left behind a family including a wife, teenage boys and mother.
The day he had chosen to die was the anniversary of his own father's death.
His father had been a farmer, and the son's suicide made my family recall another scorching day many years before.
My father was hurrying to work and happened to see the farmer's wife in their field frantically scrabbling on the ground
throwing grass onto something in order to cover it. It was her husband's charred body.
Later we learned he had gone out into his field, doused himself with gasoline and burned himself alive.
I recall him as a quiet man. From my window, I would often see him plowing his mulberry field.
If he was facing any serious problems, no one but he and his family knew about them.
There is no way to know the true reasons both men chose to die.
Some neighbors gossiped they had been suffering from some sort of depression, but who could guess their innermost thoughts?
I heard that our neighbors were so-called "Burakumin," that is, the descendants of people
who were once associated with "impure" jobs such as leather-working, butchering animals and preparing dead bodies for cremation.
The general public regarded these jobs as 'polluting acts' under Buddhist and Shintoist beliefs,
and the feudal government of Edo Japan ranked these individuals at the bottom of a strict caste system.
When the farmer's son wanted to marry his girlfriend, her family was fiercely opposed to this.
It was hard for them to gain the approval of her parents, but they were married anyway. And his father committed suicide.
Discrimination against those with such ancestry still exists in some areas of Japan.
Regardless of the abilities or personalities of individuals involved, many still experience difficulties
when looking for a job or trying to find a marriage partner. Education about the prejudice this minority faces and the human rights
that are their due started in 1965 and is ongoing in Japanese schools today. As a school girl, I sensed the peculiar tension in class
whenever this topic was discussed. Later I learned that some of my friends were actually descendants of these historically oppressed people.
None of their lives seemed to differ from mine in any way.
Therefore, the discrimination these people are forced to deal with is incomprehensible to me.
How can we stop this baseless stigmatization descendants of these "Japanese Untouchables" continue to face?
(Miwa N.)
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