Outside the little shack the snow was packed in deep drifts. Beyond its white expanse lay the forbidding waters of the Sea of Okhotsk, already thick with pack ice drifting down from Siberia. Inside, protected from the cold by walls papered with pages from popular Japanese magazines, barefoot Minoru Goto shuffled toward the iron stove with another piece of kindling and awaited the return of her children from school. "The first thing they'll say is, 'I'm hungry,' " she sighed, "but even if they ask, we don't have anything for them these days." For all the other 400 families in the...
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