The spring of our discontent

It's hay fever time again!
Springtime is nearly here! Rather than
cherry blossoms and new company
assignments, however, the change in
season may conjure up nothing more in
a great many Japanese than a muttered oh
no and a queasy feeling way down deep.
While the shaky first steps of the season
are great for melting away the last of
winter's gloom, the warming temperatures
and clearing skies are also unmistakable
heralds of the black hell of Japanese
kafunsho (hay fever), and the many, many
annoyances that come with it.
Like a lot of traditional tragedies, the
great wound of hay fever is – stunningly
– largely self-inflicted. The root cause is
the pollen released from two trees: the
hinoki (Japanese cypress), and, especially,
the sugi (Japanese cedar), the enormous
trees commonly seen around the country's
shrines and temples.
Though sugi have been around for
thousands of years in Japan, they had
never been nearly as prevalent (or
ailment-causing) until a government
ministry very cleverly decided 60 years
ago to cut down swaths of the nation's
natural forestry of oak and maple, etc.
and replace it all with sugi, which could
grow and be manufactured faster and,
ostensibly, help in the post-War World II
recovery the rest of the country was busy
with. The sugi did go up – replacing an
astonishing 43% of the natural forestry,
and accounting for one of the highest
concentrations of cedar trees on the planet,
according to some estimates – and with it,
the nation's hay fever rates. An estimated
10% or 15% of the Japanese population
suffer through hay fever allergies, with
younger children and people living in larger
cities accounting for even higher percentages
of suffering; productivity losses are
counted in the billions – not millions – of
dollars. (And, as icing on the pollen-filled
cake, it turned out that due to the enormous
processing costs, it's cheaper to simply
import foreign-grown lumber than to use
the sugi, anyway. Oops!)
Though there is no proper "cure", of
course, there are a number of hay fever
treatments to lessen some of the more
terrible symptoms. (Par for the course,
hay fever also generates local pharmaceutical
corporations billions – not millions
– of dollars.) The most prevalent by far are
the masks, must-have medical accoutrements
for the Japanese men, women and
children (and foreigners who've stayed
in-country long enough to be affected)
desperate to block out at least some of
that flying pollen.
There are nasal sprays for those clogged
noses; eye drops for those red, itchy eyes
(remember: if it says "Cool" in English
anywhere on the package, it's probably
going to burn quite a bit going in). Local
over-the-counter alleviators like Pabulon Z
Capsule are popular, as are foreign allergy
medicaments like Claritin, Benadryl, Alleve
and Tavist – fruits of the West's own
mighty struggles against allergies – which
can be easily found locally or ordered
from overseas.
Still, others insist that the simplest remedies are the best: drying clothing indoors,
wearing sunglasses to block out pollen,
etc. Some say the key, however, is utilizing
homegrown cures like the hana ugai – literally
"nose gargle" – in which sufferers
stir a pinch of salt into a cup of warm
water, tilt their heads back, force the
contents through one nostril at a time and
let the backwash drain out of their mouths.
"Natural cures are always the best ones,"
a friend confided one hay fever season,
retching mucus and warm salt water into
her kitchen sink. "It looks terrible, but you
have no idea how much better I feel after
I finish."
A fearful sight for fearful times; not
everything about springtime in Japan is
pretty, after all.
Text: Jeff Lo • Images: KS
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