
The Lives of Thalidomiders
60 years since the Thalidomide Incident, survivors' disabilities have grown more severe. One travels to Germany to learn about their campaigns, as Japan's thalidomiders search for a new path forward.
Struggling with new disabilities
Thalidomiders discussing the future
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Japan Times
2 hours ago
- Japan Times
How the scars of war in Okinawa are being healed by a psychologist
The mother and baby in front of him quickly became covered in blood. By the time he realized what he had done, they were both dead. 'I pulled the trigger,' a former Japanese soldier who had fought in the 1945 Battle of Okinawa said. 'It appears in my dreams over and over. It's unbearable.' One day in the summer of 2010, the former soldier, then in his mid-90s, visited a cave on Okinawa's main island with a group of war survivors. 'This smell — it's unmistakable. It's the place where that mother and child were,' said the man, who used the pseudonym Teruya. Breaking down in tears, Teruya was barely able to speak. But he made repeated apologies in a trembling voice: 'Forgive me, please forgive me.' The visit was part of a session with a support group for Battle of Okinawa survivors. Maiko Yoshikawa, 49, a professor at Okinawa University and a clinical psychologist, began a series of such initiatives in 2005 by forming grief care groups for war survivors across Okinawa Prefecture to help try to heal their emotional scars. Yoshikawa's approach was to repeatedly ask survivors whether they wished to participate in group sessions. Teruya, who underwent 21 preliminary interviews before joining group sessions, confided in Yoshikawa alone about his past. 'I won't speak in front of everyone, but I'd like to attend sessions,' he told her. 'You don't have to force yourself,' Yoshikawa replied. 'You can speak at your own pace." The group Teruya joined had eight other members. They gathered once a month, visiting sites related to their experiences of war or meeting in local community centers. 'I was a soldier,' Teruya reportedly said when he first introduced himself to the group. But he barely said anything else and sat quietly in the corner of the room, his face expressionless, according to Yoshikawa. Even when members of the group discussed how they wanted to visit the battle sites of their memories, Teruya bluntly said, 'There's nowhere like that for me, so I'll leave it to you all.' Still, over time, Teruya's expression began to soften. During one session — about six years after he first met Yoshikawa — he told the group he had something to say. 'I'm sorry it's so late. But if everyone's OK with it, I'd like to pray at that cave.' Yoshikawa said she thought the time had finally come for Teruya to speak about his past. The day Teruya and other members of the group visited the cave he had mentioned was shortly after Okinawa Prefecture observed its Memorial Day on June 23, which marks the end of the fierce ground battle. Teruya approached the entrance of the cave, appearing to have made up his mind, then suddenly stopped. After a moment, he took another step — then stopped again. After several such pauses, one of the men in the group gently took Teruya's hand and led him inside. 'No doubt it's here,' Teruya murmured, kneeling on the jagged rocks, and he began to sob. After a bout of crying, Teruya began to speak: He recounted how the cave his unit was using had been discovered by U.S. forces and that the Japanese military decided to take over another cave where civilians had taken shelter. It was packed with residents, and his superior officer said to them, 'We're taking this place. You all get out.' A mother holding a frail, crying baby clung to Teruya's leg and shouted, 'Please, just let this child live.' And then Teruya shot them. After his confession, everyone in the group lit incense and offered prayers. When one member said to him, 'Thank you for sharing,' Teruya burst into tears, this time wailing. As the group left the site, Teruya bowed and said, 'I thought I could never go near that place again alone, but you all gave me the courage.' He added, 'What I did during the war can never be undone, but if this serves as a form of atonement ...' Teruya was born in 1915 in the central part of Okinawa's main island. He was raised by a strict father and a kind mother, and he was good at running. At 25, he married a woman five years his junior. The couple had a daughter and named her Tomi, which means "rich," hoping she would grow up with a heart full of goodness. Teruya was deployed to Southeast Asia during the Pacific War and was determined to give his life to protect his family. In 1944, as the war intensified, he was assigned to Okinawa. By that time, the Japanese military and Okinawa Prefecture were urging residents to leave the prefecture. Teruya's wife and daughter boarded an evacuation ship just as he arrived back in Okinawa. On Aug. 15, 1945, Teruya was in a detention camp when he heard the emperor's radio broadcast announcing Japan's surrender. Though he felt the war was finally over, he couldn't reach his wife and daughter as he had never learned where they had gone. It was several years later that he discovered his wife and daughter had evacuated to Nagasaki and were killed in the U.S. atomic bombing. With the feeling of guilt over the mother and child he had killed, and devastated by the loss of his own family — his emotional anchor — Teruya left Okinawa in despair. He felt he had no reason to live, but soon after, he returned to the islands for work. Even so, he avoided his home village. He always carried with him the only photo he had of his wife and daughter and lived quietly, avoiding contact with others. It took him 65 years to speak about his wartime experience, Yoshikawa said. 'I don't think he wanted to erase his guilt, or justify what he did by confessing,' she said. 'He needed that long to be able to feel this group was a safe enough place to speak,' Yoshikawa said. 'I just waited — and gave him breathing space until he felt the time was ripe — so I could quietly support him from behind.' This section features topics and issues from Okinawa covered by The Okinawa Times, a major newspaper in the prefecture. The original article was published April 17.


Japan Times
2 hours ago
- Japan Times
Protect workers from heat waves or face fines, Japan tells firms
Tougher rules being enforced in Japan will see employers fined if they fail to take adequate precautions to protect workers from extreme temperatures. The revised legislation, which came into effect on Sunday, is a rare global example of a national-level policy on heat safety for employees, and comes after 30 workplace deaths and roughly 1,200 injuries last year associated with high temperatures, according to health ministry data. Most of those affected worked in construction or manufacturing. The government moved to strengthen protections following last summer's searing heat — which included the highest July temperatures on record, the ministry said in a statement. Businesses will face potential penalties including fines of ¥500,000 ($3,475) if provisions aren't sufficient. Heatstroke is a potentially life-threatening condition caused by a dangerously high body temperature that can result in severe organ damage if not treated quickly. There were almost half a million heat-related deaths annually between 2000 and 2019, according to a report last year by the World Health Organization. Along with public health impacts, higher temperatures can impact worker productivity, and there is growing concern about the economic toll that heat waves have on economies. Global average temperatures exceeded 1.5 degrees Celsius above preindustrial levels for the first time in 2024, and new highs are forecast to be recorded over the next five years, according the World Meteorological Organization. Japan's legislation requires employers to implement protocols to quickly spot and aid workers showing symptoms of heatstroke. Policies encourage companies to use a buddy system at work sites, distribute wearable devices to monitor staff, and provide emergency transportation to hospitals or clinics. Employers are urged to monitor the Wet Bulb Globe Temperature index, a gauge of heat stress in direct sunlight that takes into account factors like temperature and humidity. Specific measures are required for work sites where the index value exceeds 28 C or an atmospheric temperature of 31 C for more than one hour, or for a total of four hours or more in a single day. A worker performing moderate work intensity loses half of their work capacity at 33 C to 34 C, according to a 2019 study from the International Labor Organization. The same report estimated the economic impact of heat stress by 2030 at $2.4 trillion if greenhouse gas emissions aren't cut. "We are working on measures such as taking breaks according to the heat index and measuring internal body temperature using wearable devices,' said a spokesperson for Shimizu, one of the nation's largest general contractors, which employs more than 20,000 people. The company said it is constantly updating its heatstroke policies. Parcel delivery service Yamato Transport plans to distribute 75,000 fan-equipped vests to workers, including those who use carts and bicycles to drop off packages. It is also installing 3,000 wet bulb index measuring devices at business locations to better track working conditions. The measures are not in response to the new law, the company said. California and Washington are among U.S. states to have developed similar rules on worker protections, and the U.S. Occupational Safety and Health Administration has proposed setting a federal standard. There were an average 40 recorded fatalities a year in the United States related to environmental heat between 2011 and 2020, according to the Department of Labor.


Japan Times
5 hours ago
- Japan Times
‘A garden is a grand teacher': The Kamakura Gardener nurtures and soothes via YouTube
'Good day from Kamakura, Japan,' a warm, soothing voice says, welcoming you into a verdant world on screen. The voice, honed by five decades in broadcast journalism, belongs to Robert Jefferson, a semiretired news writer and announcer at NHK. For the past seven years, though, he has been offering a different kind of reportage, crafting a distinctive persona as The Kamakura Gardener on YouTube. With his canine co-host Haru beside him, Jefferson has produced, shot and edited several hundred videos for his channel. In weekly half-hour episodes, Jefferson centers his show on the mountainside garden that he shares with viewers around the world. Japan has no shortage of beautiful gardens deserving of attention, but I assure you this one is unique, even powerful. Arrive and hear the birdsong around the sun-dappled terrace. Notice the rows of vegetables, fruits and flowers set against a gentle sea of green hills. Admire the drops of morning dew poised on the edges and folds of emerald leaves. Feel your nervous system, twisted ragged by the relentless news cycle, social media scroll and endless to-do lists, begin to uncoil. This garden offers a glimpse of a gentler world and way of living — a place Jefferson had to create for himself before he could open the gate to the rest of us. Cure for the news blues Before he met American civil rights icons including Coretta Scott King and Stokely Carmichael (aka Kwame Ture) as a teenage radio journalist, before he joined the news service of the U.S. Air Force and took assignments around the world — including an initial stint in Japan in 1982 that would prove life-changing — Jefferson was just a sixth grader in Pennsylvania growing a string bean plant in any empty milk carton. 'Look at that,' he remembers thinking when it grew. 'A little teeny tiny bean placed in soil with some water could sprout into a plant. I'm still fascinated by it at 65.' Jefferson has lived in Japan for more than 40 years and is a semiretired news writer and announcer at NHK. | Alex Michael Dwyer Plants have woven into his life and career ever since: bamboo from his apartment in Koto Ward; cactuses and palm trees he received when friends left Japan; a fern he was gifted by his first car dealer; a rubber plant that fit in his bicycle basket in Tokyo, and now crawls for meters along the beams of his living room. 'Next year will be 50 years in broadcasting,' Jefferson says, citing an array of major news events, from assassinations and wars to natural disasters, that have been burned into his memory. 'From the days of Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan to ... George Bush, Obama, Biden and now Trump, I've seen a lot, and it can take a lot out of you.' Before, he coped with the gruesome business of newsmaking with stiff drinks and jazz. His social world used to be centered around Tokyo's jazz cafes. He frequented Eagle in Yotsuya, Swing in Shibuya and Dug in Shinjuku. 'I used to hang out at all of them,' he says, noting how many friends in his nightlife community had passed away. 'That's why I'm so glad I quit drinking when I did. Had I not, I probably would've suffered the fate of so many others with bad health and a destroyed mind.' Now, even though he still works in a news industry that hasn't become any less stressful, gardening offers not only a way to cope, but a chance to commune with the natural world — and transcend. 'Grow, my lovelies' You won't find Jefferson's garden in the guidebooks, but the comment section below each of his YouTube videos is a testament to the inspiration he instills in viewers from around the world, or just across town. 'Watching your channel is so relaxing,' reads a comment from a subscriber in Florida. 'It makes me feel as though I was right there with you in Kamakura.' Jefferson began working on his Tokyo apartment's balcony garden in 2006 before moving to Kamakura the following year, but the impetus to share what he did online came during the COVID-19 pandemic as he became increasingly health-conscious and felt the desire to grow more of his own food. Kamakura is often pictured as a getaway. A popular daytrip from Tokyo, the city's beaches, trails and connections to history draw visitors in equal measure. For those of us who call Kamakura home, we experience the town, first and foremost, as a close-knit community. I discovered The Kamakura Gardener in December thanks to a neighbor who ran into Jefferson on a hike. I had become horticulturally curious after frequent gifts of fresh vegetables and jams from that same neighbor's garden. Embarrassed that I had made it nearly 40 years into life without ever growing a single plant, I didn't know where to start. The Kamakura Gardener provided guidance in the form of a weekly episode of must-see TV. If watching a garden grow sounds too slow in a lightning-fast world, turn your attention to the gripping anecdotes hiding just below the soil: the antagonistic rodents and insects that visit the garden uninvited; the water and fertilizer ratio riddles Jefferson seeks to decipher; the unexpected appearance of hard-won delights like pineapple and avocado. Episodes continue in the kitchen where he prepares meals and treats with his homegrown goods. Once Jefferson sets the gardening shears aside and dons the chef's apron, all bets are off. Have a napkin nearby because it's hard to get through an episode without drooling. Don't worry about indulging too much. We'll hike it off with Haru, the French bulldog — running into old buddies and making new friends along the way — to a viewpoint of Mount Fuji behind the storied Kuzuharaoka Shrine. The Kamakura Gardener is more than a gardening, cooking or travel show; it is a balm for our present milieu. After one episode, I was hooked. What plants will survive and fruit this year? What new sagas will unfold? Why put so much effort into things you can buy from the grocery store? These questions float in my head when I visit The Kamakura Gardener's headquarters this spring. Jefferson gives me a tour of his home — some 50 plants grow indoors alone — before we step out to the sprawling garden terrace. Haru zooms around as we explore, and there's so much to take in: tiny white blossoms dangling off blueberry plants, bright yellow zucchini flowers and radish sprouts that have popped up in the lower garden. Over a glass of homemade ginger ale and freshly baked strawberry cupcakes, I ask Jefferson what I should pick for my first foray into the gardening world. 'Eat what you grow,' Jefferson says, 'and grow what you eat.' Haru, a French bulldog, is Jefferson's constant companion in his videos and in life. | Alex Michael Dwyer My curiosity accelerates. There's a delight in Jefferson's voice when he sees new growth, and you can feel his resolve when presented with a challenge. His passion and determination are contagious. 'Grow, my lovelies, grow,' he frequently says with a chuckle in his videos. His words are fully sincere. They are like prayers to himself, his plants — and all of his viewers. The nudge of encouragement we all need to reach toward what lights us up and to release what dims us. 'I don't listen to (jazz) anymore,' he reveals in a moment of reflection. 'I listen to the birds.' It becomes clear then, with the natural soundtrack of spring in the background, surrounded by plants Jefferson has cared for with such dedication for so many years, what makes this garden so unique and powerful. It's a reciprocal relationship: The garden has grown him as much as he has grown it. 'There's a saying,' Jefferson explains. 'A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness. It teaches industry and thrift. Above all, it teaches entire trust.' These words ring in my head when I pick out my first seeds. A week later tiny, tender cucumber leaves sprout up. I run into the house, celebrating the growth like a child. I don't know what to do when the sprouts outgrow their tiny cup container. I can only trust that I'll figure it out. After all, there's a garden I know I can visit anytime, from anywhere, for guidance on how to grow.