Spring Haze: Japan for the First Time in Two Years
On the day of my return from Japan to the US, my mother came to the living room and suddenly insisted, “Take a taxi to Haneda Airport.” Because my flight was due to depart in the evening, I had already sent my large luggage to the airport and knew the train schedule. So I was thinking of enjoying a leisurely lunch, but my mother seemed to be worried that if I caught COVID from the crowded train that I might miss my flight. Actually, on the previous day, I had a psychogenic fever from the stress of the mandatory COVID test prior to departure. Once decided, my mother never backs down, so I called a cab.
While I was waiting for the taxi to arrive, the driver called to say he would be 10 minutes late. My mother and I were impressed by the considerate service, but he was only 3 minutes late in the end. However, he politely bowed and apologized for the delay. He opened and closed the door for me—due to COVID protections, drivers must wear gloves and be responsible for opening and closing doors. The interior was perfectly disinfected and cleaned, and also equipped with an air purifier complete with a monitor indicating the current air quality. This “new normal” taxi was so luxurious that I enjoyed an hour long, first-class land trip.
Regardless of whether they’re indoors or outdoors, almost all Japanese wear masks—though I guess people in less populated areas may not be so strict. Even before the pandemic, masks were a part of the Japanese way of life, and people wear masks on a daily basis—a mask for a cold or to protect against allergic reactions like pollen, for example. The Japanese are highly hygienic, and they religiously consider that it’s dirty outside while clean inside. They take off their shoes before entering the house because they don’t want to bring bacteria inside. Hygiene management education—belief in cleanliness, in other words—is uniformly taught in primary schools in Japan, so the COVID infection prevention measures are accepted naturally.
During cherry blossom season, the sky in Japan tends to be hazy even on a fine day. Things like pollen or yellow sand (dessert dust blown over from the interior part of Eastern Asia) float like mist in the air. Many people in Japan wear masks to protect against dust in spring. Since this was my first experience of spring haze in a long while, I took off my mask and inhaled the unfiltered Japanese air. This is spring in Japan! The climate will soon turn steamy as summer comes to Japan, and, because of this, it will be tough to keep wearing masks, but I believe Japanese people will continue to do so—I wonder what Americans would do. I’m sure the Japanese will overcome this tough situation by using special masks, for example, ones with summer heat-defiant cooling materials like xylitol, and with anti-bacterial-, deodorant-, quick-drying properties too. Good luck, everyone!—but what should I do in America?
Let’s return to the day I left Japan for the US. Because of the taxi driver’s reported delay, I was relaxed and drinking tea, but then the taxi arrived earlier than I expected. So I hastily grabbed my luggage even without washing my tea cup and yelled out “I’m going!” to my mother while putting on my shoes. My mother immediately replied with, “Are you going?” Once inside, I shouted “I’m going” again from the taxi. She then kept smiling and waving her hand from the entrance of the house, until I disappeared from her sight. I was suddenly reminded of my grandmother waving her hand once in exactly the same way. In the haze of spring, the image of my mother waving her hand toward me had merged with my grandmother’s.
