Zen out and visit a Japanese garden — it will slow your heart rate
There is something soothing about Japanese gardens, with their precise stone paths, red-leaved maple trees and carefully pruned shrubs. Now, science has backed this up: seeing a well-designed garden has an immediate relaxing effect.
When 16 study participants visited a famous viewing garden, sat still, and simply observed its various elements, their heart rates slowed by roughly 4 per cent on average. Afterwards, they reported being in a better mood and feeling significantly more relaxed.
The garden in question was the Murin-an Garden in Kyoto. An international research team from the University of Nagasaki and the University of Pittsburgh compared its effects to those of the garden at Kyoto University, which featured similar elements — such as trees and a stone path — but was
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Telegraph
33 minutes ago
- Telegraph
Leprosy never went away – here's proof
Leprosy, as Oliver Basciano notes in his fascinating and humane book Outcast, is more than an illness. It's a byword, a 'cultural artefact' that functions as 'a receptacle for nightmares and prejudice'; a kind of 'Ur-stigma' that has run through our collective nightmares for two millennia. Those who suffer from leprosy aren't just sick, but unclean. They were infectious and contagious long before infection or contagion were understood, and they still are, long after the latter were understood well enough to be tamed. Even though the reach of the disease itself has shrunk – from five million cases worldwide in the 1980s to a little under 200,000 today – the charge around it has not. Basciano's mission is to uncover the ways in which leprosy has been seen. He wants to provide something that's less a 'medical biography' of the disease than a cultural archaeology of the fears that become attached to it, and the ways they attach to other modes of isolating and casting out the 'undesirables' among us. While the medical facts are present, the resulting book – part history, part travelogue – is above all an analysis of the realities of prejudice and ways in which shared fears exert such outsized grips on communities. And, as Basciano tracks the disease from his native St Albans to Japan, via outposts across the world, it also becomes a meditation on the flipside of such fears: a hymn to the resilience of the cast-out and the lives they have managed to make. One medical fact shines out with painful irony: this symbol of contagion is not, in fact, all that contagious. 'Ninety-five per cent of the world's population', Basciano explains, 'is naturally immune', and most people with 'a good diet and the privilege of hygiene could spend a lifetime living with someone who is actively affected with the disease and not contract it'. For those who do contract it, Mycobacterium leprae, first isolated in 1873 by the Norwegian doctor Gerhard Armauer Hansen, is 'incredibly slow to replicate'. Its victims can remain asymptomatic for anything between five and 25 years, with the bacterium hiding out in the extremities of their body, in the far reaches of the nervous system, before the effects become manifest as a slowly increasing numbness. After that, the results can be devastating. Rashes or lesions appear – the 'scales' that give the disease its name, from the Greek leprós (scaly) – then 'damage to the skin, the upper respiratory tract, toes and fingers, the eyes and the inside lining of the nose'. As the bacterium proliferates, much of the physical harm to a sufferer's body is accidental: numbness allows knocks and cuts to go unnoticed, leading to secondary infection and scarring. Despite being treatable through a multidrug therapy that has been available since 1981, its capacity to lie dormant combines all too well with the vicissitudes of public health in countries such as India, Brazil and Indonesia. Slow diagnosis and poor treatment networks allow it to stubbornly persist. In Britain, where Basciano begins, leprosy has decayed into legend: a bogeyman of a half-real, half-imaginary medieval era. Searching out the meagre traces of a leper hospital, or leprosarium, built at the gate of medieval St Albans to house 13 devout sufferers in 1194, he outlines the gaps between the reality and the legend. Behind the 'cliché of the 'medieval leper'' with his rags and bell lay a more complex reality of leprosaria – some 19,000 across Western Europe, according to the 13th-century chronicler Matthew Paris – formed as religious communities, upheld by wealthy patrons, and run in ways that often accorded large degrees of agency and democracy to suffers. Leprosy could be seen – as in Chaucer 's 1380s poem Troilus and Criseyde – as a form of divine punishment; it could also be seen as a holy affliction, bringing the sufferer closer to God. Lepers might be subject to the same kind of persecution as Jews, yet they might be accorded surprising degrees of respect and autonomy, even to the point of being considered divine in their own right. Richard of Wallingford, elected as abbot of St Albans in 1327, remained in post despite falling prey to the disease, devoting his attention to designing and building a clock for the abbey while a coadjutor carried out the 'more strenuous duties'. The historical portion of Basciano's narrative continues with thoughtful chapters on Hansen and his promulgation of the doctrine of strict medical isolation for sufferers; on 19th-century contemporaries 'Father Damien' and Kate Marsden, who became celebrities for their dedication to the disease's victims; and on the leprosarium on South Africa's Robben Island, the isolatory regime that anticipated the apartheid government's incarceration of ANC activists there. Where the book really takes off, though, is when Basciano steps into the living legacies of leprosaria in the present, with trips to Romania, Mozambique, Brazil and Japan. Face to face with sufferers, Basciano's writing blossoms. In Mozambique, he confronts the realities of illness in a time of civil war, when aid programmes cease to function, diagnoses cease and patients disappear. In Japan, where forced sterilisations and abortions of patients continued long after the theory of hereditary transmission had been refuted, 720 patients live on in scattered sanatoria, winners of a long legal battle for recognition, simultaneously victims and members of a community on the verge of extinction. Leprosaria were refuges too, Basciano writes: places where 'utopian seeds' could take root on the stoniest ground, shielding their inmates from secret police, overriding nationalism, and even war. While the historical sections of Outcast are absorbing, Basciano's encounters turn this book into something altogether more moving and important. This is a cautionary tale: leprosy might be fading into history, but there is always another human 'contagion' to fear, if we let our fears control us. Deftly balancing learned and elegant reflection on illness and prejudice with the very human faces of the disease's sufferers, Basciano has crafted a quite brilliant book. It's a fitting tribute to outcasts who should never have been cast out.
Reuters
an hour ago
- Reuters
Broken hand no bar as Mo'unga scoops another Japan club title
TOKYO, June 2 (Reuters) - Former All Black flyhalf Richie Mo'unga fired Brave Lupus Tokyo to back-to-back Japan Rugby League One titles with an 18-13 win over Kubota Spears at the weekend, afterwards revealing that he had played with a fractured hand. The 31-year-old playmaker suffered the injury in the semi-final against Kobe Steelers and did not train all week but scored a try and kicked eight points in a Player of the Match performance on Sunday. "I broke my hand against Kobe," Mo'unga explained after adding a second Japanese title to the seven successive Super Rugby titles he won as a Canterbury Crusader. "This is the third time I've broken this hand. I knew it wasn't impossible to play. I really wanted to play and be a part of something special. "There's a lot of relief. I'm so proud of the team and our efforts. To win this competition again is really special." Brave Lupus coach Todd Blackadder, who handed Mo'unga his Crusaders debut in 2016, said he had been uncertain whether his flyhalf would be able to play. "Richie's hand wasn't great but it shows how tough he is," said the former All Blacks lock. "He turned up and played very well. He's so committed and what a player he is." After the final played out in front of 50,009 fans at Tokyo's National Stadium, Mo'unga paid tribute to Brave Lupus skipper Michael Leitch, who finished the season as the league's top tackler. "I'm just in awe of what he does for this club, and the man that he is, and what he stands for," he said of the 36-year-old former Japan captain. "I speak on behalf of a lot of foreigners that come to (the club), he just makes life so much easier for us, he's like a big brother. "To see him to have the success, and captain and lead this side, I'm proud to be a follower of someone like him."
The Guardian
2 hours ago
- The Guardian
Spiced aubergines and chicken lettuce cups: Millie Tsukagoshi Lagares' recipes for Japanese-style midweek meals
Anyone who's spent time in Japan will know the hold that Kewpie roasted sesame dressing has on local palates. Creamy, slightly tangy, savoury, full of roasted flavours and a little sweet, it's the ideal dressing for absolutely anything. It comes in squeezy bottles and is now widely available in larger supermarkets, but I've created my own version here in case you can't find it. These lettuce cups make a fresh and crunchy snack that serves as a vessel for tender chicken and whatever herbs you have in the fridge. But first, a Japanified rendition of the Chinese dish mapo tofu, only more savoury and salty, and with a slightly thicker sauce. It's a strong contender for weekly dinner rotations, depending on what you have in your fridge, of course. I love the combination of pork mince and aubergine, but this also works well with tofu. You can even make it vegetarian or vegan by omitting the meat and using tofu or vegan mince and substituting vegetable stock powder. It's a little spicy, very savoury and super-saucy, so is perfect for topping steamed rice and eating with a spoon. Negi is a type of Japanese spring onion – if you can find them, use them instead of the spring onion. Doubanjiang, also called fermented chilli bean paste or spicy bean paste, is a fiery, savoury paste made from fermented broad beans. You can find it in Asian food stores and in many supermarkets. Prep 15 min Cook 35 min Serves 4 1 tbsp neutral oil, such as rapeseed or sunflower, plus extra as needed100g pork mince 4 small aubergines, or 100g firm tofu, cut into cubes1 garlic clove, peeled and finely grated2cm fresh root ginger, peeled and finely grated½ spring onion, or ½ negi, finely sliced1 tsp cornflour1 tsp toasted sesame oil Steamed rice, to serve For the sauce1 tbsp brown miso 1½ tbsp doubanjiang 1 tsp soy sauce 1 tsp sugar 1 tsp powdered chicken stock, or vegetable stock For the sauce, put the miso, doubanjiang, soy sauce, sugar and stock powder in a bowl, add 200ml water, mix well and set aside. Put the oil in a frying pan on a medium heat and, once it's hot, add the pork mince and cook, stirring to break it up, for about five minutes, until the fat has rendered out and the meat is browned and crisp. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the pork to a plate, leaving the oil behind in the pan. Add the aubergine to the pan (and a touch more oil, if need be) and cook gently, turning often, for six to eight minutes, until browned all over and meltingly tender. Return the pork to the pan, add the garlic and ginger, then cook, stirring gently so as not to break up the aubergines, for two to three minutes, until fragrant. Stir in the sauce mixture, leave to simmer for two to three minutes, then add the spring onion and cook for five minutes more, until the sauce has reduced. Mix the cornflour with two tablespoons of water and tip into the pan, mixing gently. Simmer for two to three minutes, until the sauce thickens, then stir in the sesame oil. Serve immediately alongside a pile of steamed rice. For the chicken, I've used a microwave for speed – you'll be surprised at just how much moisture the meat retains when it's cooked this way, and that it cooks in mere minutes. For those without a microwave, poach it instead, or use leftover roast or rotisserie chicken. Prep 10 min Cook 20 min Serves 2 as a snack 100g chicken breast Pinch of salt 1 tbsp sake ½ cucumber, julienned1 tbsp gari (pickled ginger), or peeled and very finely sliced fresh root ginger1 butterhead lettuce For the dressing2 tbsp mayonnaise 1½ tbsp toasted sesame seeds, plus extra to serve 1 tsp neutral oil, such as rapeseed or sunflower1 tsp apple cider vinegar 1 tsp soy sauce 1 tsp sugar 1 tbsp water To serve (all optional)1 handful fresh coriander leaves, or other herbs, roughly chopped2 spring onions, finely sliced Slice the chicken lengthways into two long strips and put these on a microwave-safe plate. Season with the salt and sake, then cover with clingfilm and microwave at 160W for two and a half to three minutes, or until cooked through. Remove from the microwave and, once the chicken is cool enough to handle, shred it with a fork. Combine all the dressing ingredients in a bowl and whisk. (This will make more dressing than you need here, but it keeps well in the fridge for a few days, so enjoy the rest with just about any salad.) Mix the shredded chicken with three to four tablespoons of the dressing, the cucumber and ginger. Separate the lettuce into leaves to make cups and fill them with the chicken mixture. Serve topped with coriander, spring onions and extra toasted sesame seeds, if you like. These recipes are edited extracts from Umai: Recipes From a Japanese Home Kitchen, by Millie Tsukagoshi Lagares, published by Quadrille at £27. To order a copy for £24.30, go to
