Earthquake and Tsunami

Two entries this time...yes, I am a terrible updater, I know. I will start with the obvious, the thing that’s been on everyone’s minds: the earthquake and tsunami. The day it happened was an incredibly normal day…sunny and breezy. I was looking forward to my family visiting in less than a week. Towards the end of the day, with only about an hour left of work, a few teachers came into the first year teachers’ office and turned on the television. I didn’t think much of it at first, but soon my curiosity was piqued and I started watching. The initial images showed waves crashing into the shore, washing away small cars and boats. This didn’t seem too bad, but I checked my facebook and saw that there had been an earthquake and now a tsunami was headed for the Northern coast. As the images unfolded, more and more teachers and students came into the staff room. At first there was soft talking and exclamations, but after a while, as the camera panned over the countryside being slammed with a destructive wall of water that washed away houses and cars as if they were toys, the room became as silent as a tomb. I looked around at everyone’s faces and saw fear, shock, sorrow, and desperation. The news indicated that large waves could hit us in Southern Japan in an hour or so, so many students and teachers living near the coast were very worried. Eventually the vice principal came into the room and told everyone to start heading home, and to make sure the students left safely first. The school emptied out incredibly quickly. I went home with Nicole and we watched the news in English for a couple hours. A small, one meter wave hit our coast, but caused no damage. I went to bed that night extremely unsettled, almost feeling as if the day had been a nightmare.
As the days went on, the news kept pouring in. Even though our area of Japan was incredibly fortunate, the death toll kept rising and thousands of people were left homeless, living in shelters without heat or electricity. I also found out that some teachers and students have family and friends in the North. I ran into one of my students over the weekend, and he told me he was trying to get in contact with family online. He hadn’t been able to reach them yet and he was still looking. This student is a really great kid-smart, energetic, and unfailingly cheerful-- but when he told me that, he looked so hopeless. Until that point, I had felt numb and unsettled (still as though the whole thing had been an awful dream) but at that moment it hit me. My heart broke for him and everyone else struggling with this catastrophe. My parents told me soon after that they were no longer coming to Japan, for safety reasons. This was another harsh blow, because at a time when I wanted nothing more than to hug my family and know they were safe, I had to accept that they weren’t coming. And yet I knew that I was lucky to have my family alive and to have my own health. God save those who don’t.
I have never experienced a traumatic natural disaster so personally. I have been living in Japan for 8 months now, and I have really come to love this country as my second home. It’s hard to explain well, but I really feel like I am a part of my community and that I belong here. The Japanese people—friends, teachers, and students alike—have shown me nothing but true kindness and generosity. The culture is beautiful and enlightening. Seeing part of the country destroyed hit me hard. Though I am just starting to get back to normal, the first couple weeks after the disaster are a blur to me. I walked around in a fog, feeling helpless, heartbroken, and unsafe. I also wanted to actually DO something besides donating money to help people, and felt terrible that I couldn’t.
I want to emphasize for those at home that I remain safe. The nuclear reactor situation is, unfortunately, being blown out of proportion by many media sources. It is troubling, of course, but the situation remains relatively stable. What I am angry about is that the focus on the nuclear plants takes away the focus from the true disasters—the death toll, the people still hungry, cold, and homeless, and the unbelievable amount of damage to livelihoods and property. If you can, please give what you are able to give to Japan.

This was terrible, a nightmare. But Japan is a country that is truly strong, and able to pick up the pieces and build again. I look outside and the sakura trees are starting to bloom. People around me are laughing and smiling. Life is going on—as it should.