The 猛暑 (mōsho, fierce heat) of 今年の夏 (kotoshi no natsu, this summer) has prompted even my perpetually 冷え症 (hieshō, prone to feeling cold) mom to grab the リモコン (rimokon, remote control) of the エアコン (eakon, air conditioner) and stay indoors.
Typical of her generation, my mother's threshold of physical endurance is on par with a Navy Seal recruit, and she's also a complete 節約家 (setsuyakuka, frugalist) when it comes to air conditioning. She has long held that the 冷房 (reibō, air conditioning) is 身体に悪い (karada ni warui, bad for your health), 環境に悪い (kankyō ni warui, bad for the environment) and, most damning of all, お財布に悪い (o-saifu ni warui, bad for the wallet), but this year, she caved. Which leads me to believe this mōsho is for real. If my mom can't stand it, no one can.
Until last year, the Japanese media used to measure the heat with different terms: 炎暑 (ensho, flaming heat) was intensely dry summer heat, as opposed to mōsho, which is a combo of heat and soaring humidity levels. 激暑 (gekisho, passionate heat) was a cut above mōsho in terms of temperature and the worst was the record-busting 酷暑 (kokusho, cruel heat) that caused people to collapse on the street or worse. This year, it seems the media has agreed to unify all varieties of heat under the single term: mōsho. Mōsho and 熱中症 (netchūshō, heat stroke) have been the most oft-seen words in the Japanese media this past month, along with 西日本豪雨 (nishi Nihon gōu, heavy rains in western Japan).