“Will You Raise Your Voice?”

“Please protect us!”  (photo by Tsuno Yoshikazu, Agence France-presse-Getty Images)

“This is not like Libya, government forces will not shoot you down with guns. You will also not become a missing person, taken away somewhere never to return, like in North Korea. Will you raise your voice? Or will you just cry yourself to sleep? ”  ….This is a translation of the blog of Kouno Taro, a member of the government opposition party, published in this week’s popular TIME OUT TOKYO magazine. The accompanying article berates the Japanese people for accepting fuzzy explanations, compromises, and downright untruths from the government whose plans, Kouno says, are “…bound by the aims of protecting the organization of TEPCO, the shareholders, the banks who financed the company and those holding bonds, rather than the public.”  These are strong words, and there is truth to his claim, which was also backed up by a visitor from America. The visitor, a scholar fluent in Japanese, had come to visit evacuation centers in Fukushima. He looked around at the old folks sitting calmly in their impeccably neat sleeping spaces, shook hands and bowed with those who lined up to greet him, and declared to television cameras later, “Nihonjin was shikkari shisugite iru. ”  ( loosely translated, “The Japanese people are too self-reliant.” )  ”Shikkari shite iru” is one of those hard-to-translate phrases, which can mean “firm, tight, reliable” or  ”a person of good, stable character”.   The American scholar went on to lament that Japanese are so used to being self-reliant and enduring without complaint that they are easily taken advantage of by both the government and TEPCO.

Well, this week has been marked by many interesting stories.  Some stories are in line with the “shikkari shisugite iru” idea: examples of individuals or groups moving to protect themselves and carry on in the absence of  guidance from or action by government officials. Yet other stories hint that ordinary Japanese are too tired, too mentally and emotionally exhausted, unwilling and (in some cases) unable to “carry on” taking care of themselves. These folks are still a minority, but their voices are beginning to be heard on NHK broadcasts, and their faces seen in the Asahi Shinbun.

First, let’s look at this week’s inspiring stories, beginning with  GEEZERS HOPE TO SAVE THE DAY!!!  ( The actual headline was, “A Nuclear Offer from the Aged”, which was much less low key ) , Nakai Daisuke’s article from the Asahi Shinbun, reprinted in the International Herald Tribune.  A close reading of the article brought a stab of surprise and pain: over one hundred and sixty men over the age of sixty have volunteered to step in and assist in the clean-up and shut-down process at the Fukushima Daiichi power plant. The number of  young people willing to take on the job has been steadily decreasing, and current workers can only work for short periods of time because of the risk of over-exposure to radiation. “We’re the perfect solution!” say the group of geezers, whom one politician has dubbed “The Suicide Squad” ( The group members refer to themselves as “The Skilled Veterans Corps”) . The Skilled Veterans  point out that they are near-death anyway, so can work for extended periods of time and get the job done in a more consistent fashion.  Their leader, Yamada Yasuteru, is seventy-two- a cancer survivor who describes himself as healthy and ready to work. “I want to do my part so that a negative legacy will not be left for future generations,” he states.  I love that man. Despite their gung-ho attitude, and years of experience working  in a variety of technical jobs (Yamada-san’s background includes both waste disposal and plant construction), both the government and top TEPCO officials have stated that they do not plan on using the Skilled Veterans Corps, since ,”…there is no immediate need” for such a suicide corps. How the shut-down and clean-up will be accomplished within eight months (the target time frame, which has already been revised and extended once) without a steady stream of willing workers is still up in the air.

Here’s another brief mentions of folks “taking care of themselves” where the government has been unwilling or unable to step in: families in Fukushima Prefecture whose towns lie outside the evacuation zone but are still plagued by  high radiation levels, have repeatedly asked government officials for advice. Getting very little of that, they are taking matters into their own hands, shovelling away layers of topsoil from their children’s school playgrounds (teachers and parents working together), and declaring the grounds “unsafe”.  Children continue to stay inside at recess, windows are closed (no problem now, but just WAIT till the heat really sets in.  Public schools in Japan are not air conditioned, and summer vacation does not start until mid-July!) , and deciding for themselves to err on the safe side….and who can blame them?

In the Kanagawa and Tokyo areas, folks are continuing to be “shikkari” about saving energy. While the government and TEPCO battle to finance the Fukushima plant shut-down , pay compensation to the victims, and prepare for a swelteringly hot summer with only limited power, individuals are carrying on calmly and positively. Dark public spaces have become the new normal (stiflingly hot trains are still difficult to adjust to), and my friends say cheerfully, “Well, this station was really too bright before, wasn’t it?”  In  a recent NHK on-the-street interview , a reporter was encouraged to find many people willing to speak out on National TV (this is a country where people are not comfortable behind a mike, and run from, rather than welcome their chance for ten minutes of fame), especially about the energy crisis. Young people declared their consciousness raised, and vowed not to take a lifestyle of plenty for granted.  Although many dreaded the advent of the summer heat, they vowed to refrain from using air conditioners, and spoke of the conservation effort (“setsu-den”) as a way of reaffirming their existence as members of the post-quake society.  I think of it that way myself , yet wonder how vigilant I’ll be able to be when the temperature begins to soar in June and July…

Lastly, let’s switch from the topic of self-reliance to that of protest and the exposure of dirty deeds.  Caught up in a tangle of frightening and confusing circumstances, ordinary citizens in Tohoku–particularly Fukushima Prefecture-are often unsure of who to lash out at, and how to make their voices heard. Though Japan in technically a democracy, it is rare for individuals to be able to make their voices heard above the noisy din of bureaucratic debates and squabbles. Lately, families in Fukushima City ( a huge area to the north of the prefecture which is technically outside of the evacuation zone, but marked by “hot spots” of alarmingly high radiation levels) have been outraged by a  government declaration of “safe radiation doses” for children. The limit set is shockingly high, and “…equal to the international standard for adult nuclear power plant workers,” according to Tabuchi Hiroko’s article in today’s International Herald Tribune.

In April, an advisor to Prime Minister Kan issued his prompt resignation after the standard was announced, simply stating that he would not allow his own children to be exposed to those levels.  And Fukushima parents agree: they are not just uneasy, but confused and angry. Unable to get consistent information on radiation levels on a daily basis, they have no information at all on the long-term effects of  the “safe dose” of radiation they are receiving; in addition, they feel torn between wanting to believe local businessmen (who urge them to continue buying Fukushima products to save the economy), and their own instincts (which urge them, naturally, to be over-cautious).  Since there is only a limited understanding even among scholars of the affects of low doses of radiation over an extended period of time, there are no set guidelines to rely on other than the government’s declaration.

Many families in Fukushima City have already fled voluntarily, and those who remain (it is a huge city, and would be extremely difficult to evacuate) have been protesting the government’s radiation standard for children vigorously. On Monday, parents from  Fukushima travelled to Tokyo to protest outside the Japanese Education Ministry. The building itself is no beauty, but it’s in a very nice, very posh part of the city, close to the American Embassy. It must have been quite a sight, since reporter Tabuchi described the scene as “rowdy”, which is not usual at all. Unsurprisingly, they were rebuffed, but at least they made the papers and the nightly news.  On Wednesday, more parents took their complaints to the local school board, dispensing with civilities and shouting their questions and accusations angrily, asking if entire school buildings should not be decontaminated from top to bottom, and demanding immediate attention and action for the sake of their children. Local officials, caught between a rock and a hard place, pleaded for understanding and promised to do all they could.

Meanwhile, new exposures of dirty deeds at TEPCO continue to make the evening news. Recently,  more young workers involved with the clean-up at the plant have spoken out publicly about lax safety measures and other worrying situations. Many claim to have been “tricked” into working at the plant in the first place, being told at job placement agencies that they would be doing “construction work”, or other such vague descriptions. Those who stayed on to work at the plant despite the initial shock report being treated as “disposable items” by a company more concerned with the plant than with the safety of the men working to prevent further wide-spread contamination and  destruction. Working without dosimeters, ill-fitting masks whose filters slip off when bumped (!) ,warped doors which do not close properly to seal contaminated areas, and only a fifth of the workers receiving internal radiation checks….these are a few of the fears they voiced, and their fears were heard nation-wide. It is already old news now that the situation at Fukushima is far more serious that was first intimated  (it WAS a meltdown after all), and that TEPCOs defense of  ”an unimaginable natural disaster” ( they blamed the unforseen height of the tsunami wave) does not hold. New evidence shows that the worst damage was done by the quake itself rather than the tsunami, and was therefore within the realm of imagination. Design flaws within the plant itself have been revealed, and an initial delay in making crucial decisions shortly after the quake caused the situation to escalate.  The situation in Fukushima has been far from “transparent”, and plant workers have every right to fear for their futures, and to publicly doubt whether they should trust their employers.

I’d like to close with the words of Yabuki Shin, who wrote in a recent issue of TOKYO TIME OUT,  ”In the wake of the great earthquake, the Japanese people’s spirit of helping others, and the evacuees who lined up in such an orderly manner to receive supplies, were praised worldwide. But if we remain silent about the present situation….we’re likely to become an international laughing stock, known only as the docile Japanese. People of Japan, it’s time to take a stand.”  Enough said, and very well said.  We’ll see what new developments the next week brings.

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Prophets, Prophecies, and Open Wounds

All the fuss about a Rapture has been unknown and irrelevant here in Hadano City, and probably across most of the nation, with the exception of young people on Twitter or Facebook who have friends in the US.  I tried, in vain, to explain the concept to my co-workers this week, and was met with bewilderment and only mild interest.  Earthquakes?  Floods?  Just part of living within the Rim of Fire.  End of the World?  Well, that’s exactly what the Tohoku quake and tsunami must have felt like, and folks survived, didn’t they?  Not just the bad ones, either.  Anyway,  Japan has its own prophets (called “Yogensha”), and now the nation is in the process of rediscovering them.

I recently attended a concert with an old friend; we hadn’t seen each other for nearly a year, so at the post-concert dinner we had a bit of catching up to do.  It is customary these days to greet friends we meet only infrequently with, “Are you okay since the quake?  How were you that day??” (Not necessarily, “What were you doing?”, though that’s usually the follow-up question).  Since most of my friends are from either Kanagawa or Tokyo prefecture, we all know that we were okay–there were upsets and minor injuries, but no deaths this far South.  That said, most of us were not really emotionally okay the day of the quake, and the aftershocks that followed left us nervous and shaken.  So we recount our own experiences, and inevitably agree that we’ve never been quite that frightened, EVER.  Then we must mention how lucky we were, and how much harder it was and still is for the victims in Tohoku. Even if we don’t know anyone personally, we can imagine. Those who lack imagination have only to turn on the nightly news, which still focuses nearly exclusively on the disaster, as well as the country’s efforts to save energy (“setsu-den”).

My friend Fusae-san and I had finished detailing our personal quake stories, had covered the “so sad for the victims” part, and were starting on dessert. That’s when she informed me that I  *must* read the latest blog that *everyone* was talking about. All ears, I asked for details.  Apparently, the blog was written by an older woman, whose posts were now considered prophetic, and who has become an instant celebrity. Her name was Matsubara Teruko, and according to Fusae, her posts were actually typed by her daughter, as she was not computer-literate.  Ooooh, good stuff–a prophet!  I  Googled her the next day, and she popped up immediately after I typed in “Matsubara”….a celebrity indeed!  I struggled to read her posts in Japanese (found them rambling, but cheery), and paid particular attention to the month of February (as Fusae had suggested).  What I found was….dubious at best.  Among a myriad of other topics were mentions of preparing for disaster, based on the Christchurch Quake and other disasters across the globe that were linked together in her mind. ” You can never be too prepared!” was her basic message, and although sensible and praiseworthy, I hardly consider that advice prophetic. Nonetheless, she is now wildly popular, and everyone loves a little old lady with her own blog.

Other prophets are more long-suffering, and have spent their lives in a very Biblical fashion, warning their neighbors, and  being consistently ignored and even shunned by their own families. Wednesday’s NY Times Global Edition gave two of these prophets validation and instant fame, by publishing their stories on its front page.  Nagano Eiichi, ninety years old, and Shiratori Yoshika, seventy-eight, are lifelong anti-nuclear activists. They and their colleagues have known nothing but defeat in court battles, warnings from employers, and harassment from their neighbors. Suddenly, the tables have turned, and “the aging protestors are now heralded as truth-tellers, while members of the nuclear establishment are being demonized.” (Martin Fackler) Another elderly man from the town of Iwaki in Fukushima is now not only a prophet, but a hero. After years of preaching to deaf ears ( we’re on the coast! A tsunami could strike any minute, and we’re not prepared! ) , Suzuki Tokuo had gone so far as to create his own evacuation manual, distribute it to the entire community, and make plans for an evacuation drill in the fall. As he was discussing the plans with a local police officer, the quake struck!  Fearing the onset of a  tsunami, Suzuki boldly hopped into the passenger seat of the police car, urging the officer to begin cruising the neighborhood.  Indeed, the tsunami did strike shortly after, and the two could see the water moving in from their hilltop vantage-point. According to the Asahi Shinbun, Suzuki used the microphone inside the patrol car to warn residents to flee to higher ground, first urging , and then “ordering”.  Those who heard and took him seriously were saved, but many still doubted and lost their lives.

And so, in the end, the prophets are now enjoying fame and recognition after enduring years of humiliation and defeat.  Most find this only small consolation. Nagano Eiichi, the ninety-year-old nuclear activist, finds his fame especially bittersweet. “If we had done more, if our voices had been louder, we could have prevented the disaster at Fukushima Daiichi,” he says. Perhaps. I personally find it sad that Japan’s young people have been sluggish and apathetic until this point. Older activists like Nagano, Suzuki, and Shiratori have been consistently ignored by college students and their entire generation (who I sometimes suspect have been too busy plucking their brows, creating elaborate hairstyles, and keeping themselves otherwise well-groomed), and have been unable to drum up support for their efforts. Well, no longer!  College students, young parents, and thirty-something office workers are now all on the band wagon, marching in Shibuya and getting photographed in spiffy clothes. They owe a debt to their elders, who did the hard work for them.

This week’s news has been packed with new revelations from the Fukushima Daiichi plant, including the resignation of the TEPCO president, who “accepts responsibility” for the disaster. He will carry the weight of his role in the dirty dealings surrounding the crippled plant for the rest of his life, but now at least the multiple burdens of shutting down the plant, preventing further environmental damage, making compensation payments to all manner of claimants (including, it has been determined, emotional damage payments to families in Fukushima forced to evacuate to shelters), and somehow managing to stay solvent, have been lifted from his shoulders. I’d guess he’ll be sleeping pretty well, all things considered.

Things are still raw and painful for folks up North, as evidenced by more small tidbits of news.  A “rakugo” storyteller attempting to cheer up shelter families with his performances is meeting with only mixed success, despite sticking to lighthearted traditional tales. “Some people can’t even laugh yet; they just walk out when I start,” he admitted.  My friend whose mother lives in Sendai also confirms this.  According to her Sendai friend, there are many stories that never make the news here about parents who have lost children; many have also lost their sanity, and some their will to live. Suicides are not unusual, she said, though they are not publicized.  Thinking of my own children and imagining my life without them, I can fully believe this. On the other end, children who have lost either one or both parents have now returned to school, and are attempting to find a measure of normalcy themselves. Three hundred students in Iwate prefecture’s Ootsuchi  Middle School are packed like sardines into a school built to hold one hundred; half of them are commuting from shelters, and many have lost one or more parents. Their teachers have had “two hours of special training on post-traumatic stress”, but that seems like only a drop in the bucket to me.

Meanwhile in Tokyo, despite the dark trains and uncomfortably warm restaurants and stores (no air conditioning!  Even CURVES was cooled only by a floor fan today, and I was sweating bullets), there are pockets of cheer. Because offices are committed to keeping the use of air conditioning to a minimum this summer, businessmen will now be allowed to wear cooler, and “cooler” clothes to work, including Hawaiian shirts and jeans (no holes please) !  Whether they will or not remains yet to be seen, but fashion retailers are hopeful. My husband is disgusted, and has already stated his intention to continue in the ranks of the uncool and sweaty.

So that’s the situation  for now….or at least a very small sliver of a big big pie. In closing this entry, I want to post a link to a new blog I’ve just found that might be of interest.  A Yokohama man has set off for Ishinomaki , and is working with the volunteer group Peaceboat in the clean-up and restoration of the city; you’ll be surprised by some of the situations he encounters, and get a first-hand account of how foreigners are aiding in the reconstruction efforts.  http:ishinomakiwithpeaceboat.wordpress.com     Again, thank you for reading, and enjoy whatever the day might bring.

"Hey, where were you guys when we needed you?"

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Jaw-Dropping News, and Praise for Mickey

Stranded visitors at  Tokyo Disneyland

When Wednesday’s International Herald Tribune front page declared, “Disaster Overturns Japan’s Nuclear Program!” , my jaw dropped in wonder and surprise. I had not expected so much so fast, especially when the news thus far had been couched in polite and indefinite terminology. The English language newspapers had earlier reported that Prime Minister Naoto Kan had “requested” that operations be suspended at the Hamaoka Nuclear Power Plant (in Shizuoka prefecture, where experts predict a 90 percent chance of a major quake of around magnitude 8 within the next thirty years) , and that the Chubu Electric Power Company was “considering” the request. Yet in spite of the verb choice “requested” rather than “ordered”, news reports seemed to take Kan’s words seriously, and were giving them a lot of press attention. Then….low and behold, the Wednesday headline, and an announcement that the Chubu Electric Power Company (known as CEPCO) had “agreed” to Kan’s “request” , and would begin preparations to decommission two reactors and suspend operations at the remaining three, despite an anticipated deficit between supply and demand during the summer months. “Although it is a request, it carries the weight close to an order,” was the English translation of a senior official at CEPCO, who probably had more to say, but restrained himself admirably.

Follow-up articles added more details, describing the CEPCO officials as “scratching their heads and rolling their eyes” as they reluctantly considered Kan’s “request with the weight close to an order”.  After all,  the Prime Minister and his predecessors had been in their camp for decades, and despite the horrific damages (the extent of which will not be known in full for years to come), apparently CEPCO assumed that the Hamaoka plant would continue to retain its “protected status” for years to come. As Martin Fackler of the Asahi Shinbun reports, ” While the plant has faced years of lawsuits seeking its suspension because of its precarious location, compliant courts have consistently ruled in the industry’s favor. ”  Katsuhiko Ishibashi, a seismologist and nuclear safety expert at Kobe University, recently stated that nuclear power plants have long been treated as  ”sacred territory”, supported and protected by the cooperative efforts of the government, the industry itself, and its regulators. Prime Minister Kan’s “abrupt” (in CEPCO officials’ words) request came as a slap in the face to an industry which has long been “entrenched and coddled” ( Martin Fackler’s words) by the government up until the very day of the quake.

And then, as CEPCO officials had feared, came the Domino Effect: yesterday’s paper (only three days later) reported that “Municipalities in Japan that are home to nuclear power plants are now so nervous about potential accidents that 42 of the 54 reactors in the country could be offline during the peak electricity demand period this sumer.” (Asahi Shinbun).  Forty-two out of fifty-four?!  And the process is beginning already: Fukui prefecture, with 13 nuclear plants, has already suspended operations at six while they are under inspection, and will halt three others in July.  Fourteen reactors across the country have been shut down for inspections this week, with six more scheduled for inspection in July; fifteen plants in the Tohoku area have already been shut down due to damages from the quake and tsunami. Local government officials from North to South, East to West,  are now expressing concerns about the safety of the nuclear power plants that they have lived in close proximity to for decades; the Prime Minister’s sudden decision to take a stand against the Hamaoka plant has been the catalyst for a chain reaction that has all the possibilities for a revolutionary new beginning.

It is important to note that the concept of a new beginning is only a “possibility” at present.  Japan’s eggs have all been in one basket up until this point, and as Micheal Austin, director of Japan studies at the American Enterprise Institute in Washington stated in Wednesday’s Herald Tribune, “The old way of doing things has broken down, but there is not yet a new way to take its place.” Japan is now universally wary of nuclear power, and has taken to first steps toward changing its energy policy, but the process of investigating, financing, and implementing a new major policy has not yet begun. Prime Minister Kan intends to “start from scratch”, which is both exciting and and terrifying (as is anything which carries the potential of large-scale failure).  The excitement is country-wide, as families follow the NHK nightly news , which has been extended since the quake, to focus specifically on the challenges faced by the Tohoku region.  This week’s special programming featured in-depth presentations of different sources of alternative energy: Thursday featured wind power in Denmark, and Friday featured geo-thermal power in New Zealand. I was astonished to learn that there is not a single nuclear reactor in the entire country of New Zealand, and also that Japan’s geo-thermal resources are ranked third in the world, yet are almost completely untapped!  Anti-nuclear protesters have been marching in Tokyo for the past two weekends (I must check Twitter, and see if they’re about today), and people are talking about solar panels and investigating the power of volcanic hot springs. Most exciting of all, while the government is strapped financially and TEPCO’s resources are being stretched to the breaking point, the wealthy entrepeneurs of Japan are stepping up to bat!  Whew!  About time!  Masayoshi Sun ( founder of Softbank, and officially the richest man in the country) has promised to donate $12 million to start a research foundation for renewable energy, stating that continued reliance on nuclear power would be, “…a sin against out children, grandchildren, and future generations.” Strong words,  but the country is ready to hear them. As Nassrine Azimi wrote in Wednesday’s NY Times editorial, “The Fukushima disaster has become an existential moment for Japan. None of its energy options are easy-but at least the country will face the challenge with the gravity it deserves.”

Lastly, a brief update on the situation in Fukushima, and a story from Tokyo’s Disneyland, which the government would do well to use as a model for future disaster preparedness programs.

The news this week from Fukushima prefecture was bleaker than ever. Residents from Kawauchi village (within the 20 kilometer radius of the evacuation zone) were allowed to return home for a two hour visit on Tuesday, leading to frustration and sadness, rather than relief.  Abandoned cows running wild had broken into sheds and caused havoc, household pets were dead, and residents- dressed in bulky white radiation protective gear equipped with walkie-talkies and dosimeters- scrambled to clean their houses, and to find items of clothing and photo albums before the time limit ran out and the bus left to return to the shelter where they have been setting up housekeeping.

The timeline for the shutdown of the reactors at Fukushima is being revised, after a chilling discovery that spent fuel rods have melted down and apparently burned a hole in the bottom of the Number One reactor, causing unknown amounts of radioactive water to leak…presumably into the ocean, though TEPCO claims to be “unclear” about where the water is actually going. It is likely that there are leaks in two other reactors as well, though the high radiation level makes it difficult for workers to check the site and make a proper assessment.

Students in the Shoyo Middle School, in Date City ( 60 kilometers northwest of the crippled power plant) attend class wearing masks, caps, and long sleeve shirts; a recent measure of the school’s radiation level revealed that “their exposure to radiation is on pace to equal annual limits for workers in the nuclear power industry” (Bloomberg News, Thursday).  Female faculty and students are banned from wearing skirts due to “radiation concerns”.  Elementary and Nursery Schools in Date are continuing to scrape off the top level of soil on their playgrounds, and covering it temporarily with plastic sheets.

TEPCO has unveiled a plan to eventually cover the entire crippled power plant with polyester sheeting, creating a giant “canopy” supported by steel beams to prevent further leakage of radiation. It will be an eyesore, and a shameful sight.

But now, let’s move South, to Tokyo’s Disneyland (which is actually located in Chiba prefecture, the southernmost coastal area to sustain major damage from the quake and tsunami).  In the days following March 11th, NHK viewers were horrified at the videos broadcast from the the wildly popular theme park, which showed the sidewalks cracking open and great yawning gulfs appearing before the eyes of terrified families. As they backed away in horror, water began gushing up through the cracks, and within hours, much of the park was flooded.  But that’s not the real story…

The real story is how the Disney staff responded to the disaster, and it’s one worth telling. According to my friend Junko (she is in the know about theme parks), Disney holds rotating disaster preparations drills every two days,  so that every area of the vast grounds is constantly reminded to stay alert and keep in practice.  Disney has always taken the potential for natural disaster seriously, and felt a deep responsibility toward its staggeringly high number of visitors; they proved their capability and efficiency on March 11th, and those who happened to be in Mickey’s Kingdom on that day will not forget the swift response and kindness of the Disney staff.

One of my English students, a fourth grader named Mayu, happened to be there. It was a school day, but her parents had taken her out of class for a day trip that was a family celebration for her older sister who had just gotten into the high school of her choice. When the quake hit, of course the smallest children panicked, and screams and cries rang out through the park as people struggled to keep their balance and take in what was happening.  Disney staff in the stores and shops remained calm, and rushed to comfort children as they took cover;  as the trembling subsided,  staff began emptying the shelves of stuffed animals and trinkets to help calm howling babies and mothers with jangled nerves. It had begun to rain, and raincoats were immediately given out free of charge to children. When the supply ran out, Hello Kitty gift bags were used, with holes cut out for the arms.  Visitors (over 30,000 at Disney Sea) were then rounded up into a safe, dry, central area, given food and “disposable heaters” to stay warm, and encouraged to remain within the park for their own safety. Near midnight, when trains began running again, visitors were allowed to leave, but many spent the night camped out on the grounds. Disney attendants cooked and served breakfast for them the next morning.  I asked Mayu, “Did you sleep at Disneyland? Did you stay at a hotel?”, but she wasn’t able to say, and I didn’t want to press the issue. “Well…it was like a hotel…” she said hesitantly, but did not want to talk further. The following day, Disney opened up its hotels for free, as did other area resorts, and kept them open that week for the use of local residents as well.  In the end, the Disney complex was able to report no deaths or significant injuries, and to know that years of disaster preparation training had paid off.  They prepared for the absolute worst, met disaster cooly and efficiently, and provided a model for the rest of the nation.  Mayu does not want to talk about her experience, and probably will not for some time.  I think of the fear she must have experienced, and breathe a sigh of relief that she and her family made it back to Hadano safe and sound.  Though I’ve never been a big Disney fan, and have not once visited Disneyland in all my years here, I may now be one of Mickey’s biggest fans. Nice going, Disney.

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Portrait of a Granny

Minami-Sanriku woman with her great-grandson. Photo by Kawai Satoshi.

Strawberries have been on sale all week at the local grocery-two dollars a box, which is ridiculously cheap in Japan. My daughter adores strawberries, and I bought several boxes for her without giving it a second thought….until my mother-in-law mentioned how good those berries look, and how much she’d like to buy a box herself, except….except….they’re from Ibaraki, the prefecture directly south of Fukushima. I hadn’t even checked the label. After she mentioned that, I recalled seeing a whole box of spinach, unsold and already starting to wilt in the heat, outside that same grocery….probably from the same area, and even more worrisome, since leafy green vegetables are supposed to absorb more radiation than root veggies or fruits. The local grocery (called a “hyaku-katen”, or department store, but really a large grocery with some cosmetic and kitchen items and Yugioh trading cards for kids) is a happening place for folks over sixty ( that’s a good percentage of my neighborhood ), and those “hyaku-katen” strawberries started me thinking about my mother-in-law and her generation’s response to the quake and its ensuing complications.

As the nation struggles to pull together to conserve energy and aid in the reconstruction of the northern prefectures, my mother-in-law’s generation plays an interesting and not highly-publicized role. First, let’s look at the money issue. Tohoku needs donations of food, clothing, texbooks, and such, but the bottom line is cash. Folks who did not keep money in banks (countless elderly people) lost their entire life savings, as their heavy metal safes were carried away by the tsunami. Farmers lost their livestock, and the farms themselves, as their land was declared radioactive; they no longer have access to their own homes or animals. Factories have been swept away, homes have been swept away, families have been torn apart, and insurance companies, aid groups, and government efforts to provide compensation and a new start for families in the North have so far been only a drop in the bucket. Never mind the cost of the clean-up, which will take–it is estimated–years in some areas. So fund-raising is an ongoing, nation-wide (world-wide!) effort, and eye-popping amounts of money are being generated on a daily basis. Interestingly enough, my mother-in-law’s generation (many of them have real money!  tons of it!  squirrelled away! ) is probably on the outside of all this,  perhaps not even looking in.

So let’s look at a portrait of a very familiar type of Japanese granny (for there are, of course, many variations), and see how her generation has responded to the crisis. And let me also boast that I am well-qualified to speak on the subject, being surrounded by grannies on a daily basis: my mother-in-law, the ladies at CURVES ( average age is of the patrons is much older than you’d think! ), my neighbors (nearly all are elderly, and living with their sons’ families), the shoppers at the “hyaku-katen” grocery (I wouldn’t shop anywhere else), and my own Silver students, who study in my school on Friday mornings. I have no wish to reveal the identity of individual grannies, so I will create a fictional granny  based on my own experiences. Her age will be seventy-five, since you don’t really qualify as a granny  in Japan until around seventy or so; women in their sixties are extremely active and youthful, and hardly fit the image of what Americans think of as a granny. Her name will be….Satoko, since I actually know no-one with that particular name, and since women of her generation often used “ko” as the last syllable of their names. She lives in Kanagawa Prefecture, south of the quake epicenter, but close enough to get fairly shaken up. What was she doing on the day of the quake, and how did she respond??

Well, she was, of course, at home. Satoko lives with her  husband Satoshi, her son, his wife, and her two grandchildren, Yuusuke and Atsumi. The kids were at elementary school when the quake struck and her son was at the office in Tokyo, but she and her daughter-in-law were home, in the kitchen. Having experienced countless quakes since her childhood, Satoko was unruffled when the tremors began. But as they grew suddenly stronger, rather than tapering off, she became alarmed in spite of herself. Despite the pounding of her heart, she ran to the kitchen cabinet  rather than diving under the table; after all, she thought, this will pass and I must save the china. While her daughter-in-law (thankfully unflappable) rushed to open the outside door and shut off the gas valve under the stove, Satoko stubbornly held onto the cabinet as pots and pans rattled,  the house itself shook horizontally, and the floor moved under her. It seemed to her a very long time before the quake abated but at last it did, and the china was saved!  Both her husband and daughter-in-law scolded her afterwards for her “foolishness” in not taking cover, but she paid no mind, and was secretly pleased with herself for some time afterwards. Her husband Satoshi promptly attached the too-high cabinet to the wall with screws and chains–unsightly, but safe.

Once the first strong aftershocks had passed and the grandchildren had arrived home safely ( her daughter-in-law had rushed to the school to pick them up, and walked home with them; both were unusually quiet but dry-eyed, wearing their earthquake hoods and weighed down by their  heavy leather backpacks), Satoko and her husband sat in the heated table, watching in disbelief as a chain reaction of events began unfolding: skyscrapers swaying wildly in Tokyo, fires in the oil refineries in Chiba, the tsunami–brown and monstrous–roaring over coastal villages and rice fields, and (later, but most ominous of all) mysterious flames, smoke, and noises generating from the Fukushima No. 1  power plant. Satoko began to realize the scope of the disaster, and (again) was secretly pleased that her bag was at the ready. Who knew what might happen next?  Her daughter-in-law , who had scoffed at the cans of emergency biscuits, bottled water, flashlights and batteries she kept in a hand-sewn bag at the foot of her bed, would spend the next few weeks scouring stores and frantically searching the net for batteries (sold out everywhere in two days), while she sat smugly at home.

Satoko refused to stockpile, refused to panic, bought whatever was available after the quake  (every day, what was available was different), and carried on as usual. So what if there was no bread?  She had lived through the war, literally eating weeds and grasses from the mountainside. Even after the war, she and Satoshi had been so poor they practically lived on cabbage those first few years. Interestingly enough, instead of coming to hate cabbage, they had both developed a fondness for it that continued to this day. No bread?  No big deal. No rice?  Well, that might be a different story, but (again) she had been well-stocked since before the quake, and was not immediately worried.

“Bokin-bako” or “collection boxes” began to spring up everywhere, and high school students were lined up outside every train station calling “Give to the victims of Tohoku!” in loud, cheery voices. Satoko was able to walk past them without putting in a cent, and likewise able to look directly over , rather than at, the Red Cross boxes set up at the store cash registers. She was not mean, but she was very, very careful with her money. She must be able to live off her pension money without troubling her son, and was determined to pay for her own funeral as well. Three weeks after the quake, she put ten dollars in a “bokin bako” outside the train station (quite spontaneously), and was pleased with and surprised at herself for doing so. That said, it was over and done with, and she would not donate more. The electric bill would go up as a result of the Fukushima crisis, there would undoubtedly be some new tax to help pay for the reconstruction, and she must be prepared for the coming year. If the finances were left to her husband Satoshi? Hah! He would fill up the collection boxes while his own grandchildren went to school in “boro-boro youfuku” (beat-up looking clothes). Thank heavens she held the purse strings. Tightly.

Ah, but saving energy….that was something she could do, do well, and do for the benefit of herself and the country . No sweat!  Or rather, a whole lot of sweat. She didn’t mind-sweat was healthy, and that’s why she spent her summers with a towel tied around her neck: to mop up sweat on a regular basis. Air conditioning was only turned on for guests, and this year, even guests would be subject to “setsu-den” (saving electricity), and given paper fans to create their own breezes. She didn’t mind the heat (that doesn’t mean she enjoyed it , either.  No-one is that masochistic ), didn’t mind the dark train stations and stores, didn’t mind the black-outs (had them in the war, and for far longer periods of time), and didn’t mind that elevators and escalators were shut down. She was still genki enough to use the staircase, and it was better for her, anyway. She owned both a clothes dryer and dish-washer, but rarely used either, hanging laundry either inside or out on the veranda depending on the weather, and washing dishes carefully by hand after each meal and snack-time as well. With the energy crisis, she determined not to use either appliance at all, though getting through the rainy season without the dryer would be dreary. All in all, “setsu-den” was already part of her nature, and she thought (again, maybe a bit smugly) that folks did not need to make such a fuss about it, really.

And what about the strawberries?  Well, though the daughter-in-law bought them as a gesture of solidarity with the farmers of Ibaragi and Fukushima, Satoko would not touch them. The NHK news report was reassuring, promising that any possible  health effects would not show up for twenty years down the road, but even so…why deliberately expose yourself to risk, when there were strawberries available in the same grocery from Kanagawa Prefecture? She bought the Kanagawa berries, and even went so far as choosing “foreign fish” ( first time ever, but with the radioactive coastline, she thought it wise).  Again, she was not mean, but she intended to stay healthy, for the sake of her children and grandchildren. She was (secretly) pleased with her daughter-in-law’s practicality and calm demeanor on the day of the quake, thankful that her husband was still active and a help, rather than a hindrance in the house, and proud as a peacock of her first son, who commuted all the way to Tokyo every morning to his job in a bank. Lastly, she was devoted to her grandchildren, and could not imagine life without them. At seventy-five, she still had much to live for, and was not about to lose her health by being careless, or her best china by being fearful.

My fictional Satoko is from Kanagawa Prefecture, but my guess is (after watching the countless Tohoku grannies who appear on TV nightly and listening to stories from friends with family up north) that she could very well have been from Fukushima. Or Iwate. Or Sendai. One friend’s mother (a widow, living alone in Sendai) lost power and running water after the quake. No matter; she calmly collected rubble from the yard to build a bonfire outside for her cooking. When her phone lines were up again, she called her grandson in Kanagawa to say she was doing fine, and that she thought he’d enjoy her “outdoor cooking”–just like camping!

Satoko and other women of her generation  may not stuff the donation boxes full of money, but perhaps that is because their perspective is family-oriented, rather than global. They are strong, and able deny themselves much for the sake of the family without feeling an ounce of self-pity. The Satokos of Japan are clever and practical (could you do as well in a pinch as the Sendai granny?), they are brave (would you duck for cover, or save the china?), and self-reliant. Although most never learned to drive, they do not beg rides, but walk everywhere, or ride the busses and trains. They live for their families, giving up jobs, hobbies, and tea-time dates with friends to raise their grandchildren. Their daughters-in-law work full-time, so many of these grannies cook for the entire family as well. I see them every day, carrying babies on their backs, pulling rolly-carts home from the hyaku-katen, and sweeping the narrow streets in front of their houses (a thankless job, I always thought! Who sweeps the street?!) .

My guess is that the summer campaign to save energy will be resoundingly successful, largely due to the efforts of grannies like Satoko, who make up a large portion of the population of Japan.  They will be vigilant during the summer energy crisis, using fans rather than air conditioners, keeping the lights low, and forgoing “zeitaku” (luxuries). They have already prepared themselves for the next big quake, and are undisturbed by continuing aftershocks from March 11th. Meanwhile, the Satokos of Fukushima and Iwate have set up housekeeping in shelters, marking their sleeping areas with dividers made from cardboard boxes, folding their blankets neatly at the foot of the futon every morning, hanging their laundry on chair backs, doing their “radio exercises” faithfully, and eating whatever is brought to them. They are grateful for small gifts that make their lives easier  (one foreign aid worker brought boxes of reading glasses, and was immediately the most popular guest of the day), and wait for the day when they are allowed to return home (in the case of the Fukushima grannies), or the day when their new home can be built (in the case of tsunami and quake victims). In their own way, I am sure that the Kanagawa grannies feel for those grannies in Fukushima, though they do not broadcast their feelings. The Tohoku grannies have become dependent and helpless, and while the Kanagawa grannies can still fend for themselves, they can easily imagine the situations reversed.

When my son was younger, we used to get up early on Saturday mornings to watch the “Super Centenarians!” on TV. This is a weekly program spotlighting Japanese grandmas and grandpas who have reached the age of 100 and are still contributing to society,  making life pleasant and interesting for those around them. There are so many, and each with a different story; not one has reached the age of 100 without enduring hardship.  The bent-backed, wrinkly old women from Tohoku are survivors, and I look forward to seeing them one day in the future, on the “Super Centenarians!” program. Though my son is now off at college, I will be watching, and cheering them on. Well, better yet, I’d love to be one of the feature stories when my day comes. Hope that program is very long-running.

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Empty hospitals, Stylish goods, Cosplayers protest, and More!

Empty hospitals??  That’s a good thing, right?  Not in Fukushima, it seems. Last night’s NHK news broadcast showed an elderly woman, critically ill and already unconscious, being turned away from the hospital in her own neighborhood. Although the  Minamisoma hospital  had  empty beds aplenty, the reason was a new government regulation preventing new patients from being admitted. The woman (only a brief glimpse of bare feet sticking out from a sheet) was rushed to a hospital in a nearby city, hopefully in time, as TV viewers wondered what on earth was happening.

The situation, as it turns out, is this: Minamisoma and other cities now prevented from admitting new patients are within the “Emergency Preparedness Zone”. This is the grey area just outside of the evacuation zone, where radiation levels register higher than normal, but not yet high enough to warrant a full-scale evacuation.  All residents within this zone must be prepared to evacuate at the drop of a hat should further troubles develop at the Fukushima Plant, and ill patients cannot be rushed out of the city without proper care and preparations. Thus the new regulation: medications may be distributed and health consultations are allowed, but no patient may actually be admitted for fear of an evacuation that may or may not occur. Naturally, hospitals in neighboring cities are now flooded with elderly patients (many unhappy to be far from their own neighborhoods), and doctors are up in arms, calling this a “humanitarian issue”. The regulation is particularly distressing to residents since it came from the central

Prepare for disaster with Hello Kitty!

government, without consultation with local officials or community members. City officials are justifiably frustrated and distressed, calling for greater co-operation between the central government and individual prefectures, and urging the Prime Minister and his officials to use “imagination and compassion” in their decision-making.

Meanwhile, back in Tokyo….people are preparing for the next big quake. Because it’s Tokyo, they are doing so with style. A blog called “Tokyo Trends” reports that Hello Kitty silver emergency bags (seen in the above photo) are now sold out in on-line shops. At 10,000 yen per bag (approximately a hundred dollars), that seems astonishing. The contents consist of a handkerchief, a “pouch”, a small blanket, an earthquake hood, an alarm buzzer, and the backpack itself. Considering that all of these items are easily found in the home of any elementary school student, I was amazed to know that anyone would pay that amount of money simply to have the Hello Kitty logo on their matching earthquake goods. Not to mention the impracticality of the contents!  No flashlight? No tinned biscuits? Not even a box of Hello Kitty band-aids? Oooo…kay….Let’s move on to the next item: the answer to unfashionable earthquake hoods and helmets.

The traditional earthquake hood looks rather like a couch cushion tied onto the head. In fact, they do double-duty as chair cushions in elementary school (where space is at a premium), as they can be easily removed and thrown onto the head in a matter of seconds. During the second world war, even adults wore these for safety, but these days it’s mostly children. Helmets are for adults. Yes, but who in the fashion-conscious heart of Tokyo wants to be seen in a helmet? Apparently, a Danish company called Yakkay has found the answer: a helmet, concealed by a dapper little overhat that somehow clips on and is interchangeable. “Japan Pulse” claims these hats are not only worn by cyclists in the city, but by train commuters as well!  Apparently not out my way, but I will be on the lookout from here on in.

And now for the protest!  It is nine o clock in the evening here, and my Twitter feed says that thousands marched through the streets of Tokyo today, protesting Japan’s continuing reliance on nuclear power. This was confirmed by the e-publication “Tokyo Times”, and I expect to see something in tomorrow’s Asahi Shinbun pages. Maybe. The tweets were unclear as to exactly how many people, but there was agreement that it was in the thousands….which is impressive to me, since I’ve never seen crowds that large here apart from fireworks festivals, and have never witnessed a single protest in twelve years. No farmers from Fukushima this time, and no cows, but plenty of “cosplayers” (young people dressed as their favorite Anime characters), chanting, “Genpatsu, yamerou!”, or “Stop Nuclear Power Plants!!” Someone had tweeted, “Old boy at the back annoying the cops,” so I guess there were older folks, too, and apparently plenty of police. Adept at organization, the police neatly divided the protesters into groups, watched for any signs of unruliness (there were none), and that was that. Everyone went home, and there was nothing more to tweet about.  Still, that’s pretty exciting stuff for Tokyo.

And now….back again to Fukushima Prefecture and the troubled reactors. Yesterday’s Asahi Shinbun reported that fewer workers are willing to brave the radiation risk inside the plant, and that former workers (who had worked under dangerous conditions shortly after the disaster on the 11th) are refusing to return to their jobs. According to the article, “..many workers have been begged by their families not to work at the plant again,” and no wonder. The “Fukushima 50″, who were lauded both at home and abroad, are probably among those who refuse to return, and who can blame them? They have paid their dues. As of this posting, there are 1,312 workers at the plant, most employed by sub-contractors hired by TEPCO. The reactors, they say, are still filled with “radioactive rubble” caused by hydrogen explosions, and daily exposure to excessive radiation is unavoidable. Suffering from hyperventilation and abnormal heartbeats caused by living with stress and fear on a daily basis, they are urged by colleagues to “keep quiet” within the earshot of their TEPCO employers. TEPCO officials, attempting to salvage the remains of their bedraggled reputations, are taking measures to improve the workers’  living environments by constructing temporary dorms and showers. I had to read that twice, as you probably did, too. No dorms or showers until this point??……

Other news, in a nutshell: operations at the Hamaoka Nuclear Plant (one of the topics of my last post) have been halted by the central government!  Suddenly and completely, and I was truly surprised, given the company’s determination to not only continue operations, but to re-start a reactor which had been closed for inspections. The shut-down is only temporary, to give the company time to construct a massive breakwater and take long-term precautions against future disasters, but still it’s a small victory, and a bit of breathing space.

The Prime Minister has also taken a firm stance against TEPCO, stating that full responsibility for clean-up and compensation rests with the company, rather than the government, and professing “no sympathy” for the universally reviled TEPCO officials.  TEPCO, while promising to do its utmost, still begs for mercy, crying, “Don’t break us!” In reality, the government will end up footing part of the bill, though how much, and by what means remains to be seen. In the meantime, farmers from Fukushima go uncompensated, and their future remains uncertain.

In a rather alarming short article found in the Tokyo Times, I learned that Red Cross Japan has been sitting on a huge amount of aid money, earmarked as “compensation” for Tohoku residents. I have been fund-raising for Red Cross since the aftermath of the quake, and urging others to do so as well, so THAT news gave me a jolt. In their defense, Red Cross officials say that distributing the money fairly is a delicate process, and that many factors (including the results of searches for lost family members) have prevented them from getting the money out in a timely fashion. The truth of that can hardly be denied, and I am trusting that the money will find its way to the victims as soon as possible.

And so, Japan’s Golden Week comes to an end tomorrow. Many young people spent the holidays in Ishinomaki or Kesennuma, paying a good sum of money to be allowed to help with the clean-up and re-construction, and living like shelter residents themselves for a few days. Others travelled and enjoyed life as usual, in spite of dire news predictions that the average citizen would spend Golden Week at home, behaving frugally. I chose to stay at home, behaving semi-frugally, and taking one day trip to the Hakone mountains. Expecting few other tourists, my family and I were unprepared to do battle with the crowds squeezed onto the train platforms! We had planned to meet friends on the Hakone-Yumoto platform and board the train together, but that proved impossible, since we were unable to see each other or move in any direction but toward the train doors. We ended up on the same train, but in different cars, and finally met up at our destination (which was worth the stress of the train ride).  It will be some time before families in Tohoku are able to travel for pleasure, and I must remember to appreciate my own good fortune. And  I will continue to blog in the evenings. The news is chock-full of drama–no end in sight– and it seems important to reach out and grab at stories, in an effort to make sense of them and to make sure that they get told at least once again before life moves on. Again, I thank you for reading those same stories and for keeping Japan in your thoughts and prayers.

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Guess What’s Radioactive Now?? ….and other tales.

Set to be demolished...

Tonight’s post begins with one more bizarre complication arising from the Fukushima nuclear disaster …are you ready for this? Aaaah….it’s the sewage. In other words, radioactive poop, and lots of it. And what to do with it.

The story begins with rain…enough rain to cause radioactive substances on the ground in Fukushima Prefecture to flow into sewage systems, and straight to the wastewater treatment facilities. The sewage treatment facility in Koriyama City has begun to find an alarmingly high concentration of radioactive cesium in the tons of sludge and  molten slag (sewage sludge fired in a furnace) processed daily. The International Herald Tribune reports the level as approximately 1,400 times higher than the level registered before the March 11th quake. WELL. You know how the post office puts trackers on registered letters? The prefectural government of Fukushima is now attempting to track the radioactive sewage sludge, which has been shipped out to various concrete companies. The slag, which is not shipped out, has been covered with plastic sheets and left to sit, for want of a better solution. As the Tribune pointed out, “…there are no guidelines established by the central government for disposing of highly radioactive sewage sludge.” You want some big old chunks of baked radioactive you-know-what?  No, I didn’t think so.

Okay, so that’s the poop on sewage. Even sadder, today’s paper reports that the same radioactive cesium has been found in the breast milk of nursing mothers in Fukushima. Many of the women who participated in the study registered negative for radioactive contamination, but  the milk of seven out of twenty-three Fukushima mothers registered positive. The short article from the Asahi Shinbun did not feature prominently, and was probably not noticed by most readers. The tone was reassuring, claiming that, “..the health ministry said the milk posed no health risk to infants.” Again, I guess there are no established guidelines for a safe level of radioactive substances in breast milk, so the health ministry can make its pronunciation in all good conscience. We hear nothing from the women who participated in the survey , of course, but their level of anxiety must be steadily rising. Mine certainly is.

And now, for the truly ominous news–again, taken from an article in Monday’s Asahi Shinbun. The article reports that the Chubu Electric Power company is considering re-starting the retired Hamaoka nuclear power plant, to help alleviate the anticipated summer power shortage. The ominous aspect is the plant’s location: atop an active fault along the Shizuoka Prefecture shoreline, the long-predicted site of an earthquake which could devastate the Tokai area. Local governments and residents are already “fiercely opposed” to the re-starting of the reactor, which is described as “the world’s most dangerous” nuclear power plant. The reactor had been temporarily shut down for an inspection before the quake occurred, but had been scheduled to start up again in April; Chubu Electric decided on a temporary delay because of the public’s anxiety after the Fukushima explosion, with plans to re-start in the month of July.  Chubu  Electric officials now plan to conduct info-sessions to reassure local residents of the plant’s safety, and to build a giant breakwater at least 15 meters high, effective against tsunamis of up to 8.3 meters. Neither the residents not the experts, however, are buying the idea. Kyoto University’s Hiroaki Koide, assistant professor of nuclear engineering, “scoffed at” the proposition, stating baldly that no nuclear reactor comes with a guarantee of safety, and that the Hamaoka plant had already been in a vulnerable position for years. Soooo….the best-case scenario would be an unusually cool summer. If the energy supply is sufficient during the hot summer months, there will be no need to re-start the controversial reactor at all. And the worst-case scenario??  Well, that’s only too easy to imagine now, after seeing lurid videos of the tsunami easily roaring over houses, the mysterious explosions and fires at the Fukushima plant reactors, and the pain on the faces of the victims, up close and personal on digital TV screens.

Speaking of  TV dramas, TEPCO officials were seen in Fukushima today, visiting the shelters . Many shelter residents in the prefecture sustained little to no property damage in the disaster; their homes are livable, but for the radiation level. They are living on gymnasium floors as a direct result of the TEPCO officials and the corrupt system that continued to re-liscence the plant despite its vulnerability and inadequate safety standards.  TEPCO officials bowed repeatedly and apologized profusely , but many shelter residents responded with angry and impassioned speeches. In the weeks following the quake, they have passed through many emotional stages, and an outrage born of exhaustion seems to have developed. One woman spoke calmly but firmly, asking officials to imagine the pain of losing a beloved family member, but not being allowed to search for the body because of the high radiation level. She was referring to the bodies of countless residents who died or washed up in the area closest to the plant, which have gone unretrieved because of the danger of venturing into the  highly radioactive zone. As she spoke, the camera panned the wall of the gym, where photographs of clothing were taped along the wall. This is a last-ditch effort to identify bodies which have recently been found by the Japanese military; together with police, the military men have donned protective suits to finally begin searching the area closest to the crippled reactors , trying to narrow the list of the “lost and missing”. Unfortunately, so much time has passed that most bodies are unrecognizable, and must be identified by their articles of clothing. The TEPCO official could say nothing in response to the woman who still had not found her own husband, and TV viewers have no clue as to what goes on in the hearts and minds of the men who are the face of the disaster and must now bear the scorn, anger, and piercing accusations of the people they have driven from their own homes. It’s not a pretty picture.

On a different note,, I’ve found several intriguing stories on attempts at memorializing the triple disaster. Monday’s Asahi Shinbum reported on the town of Masahiko in Tochigi, known for its traditional pottery wares. The earthquake not only destroyed shelf after shelf of teacups and bowls, but the  historic wood-fired brick kilns themselves–forty-five out of fifty–also collapsed. According to the article, potters worked together to clean up the shards and haul them away , depositing them in a giant mound in front of the city hall….and that’s where things began to get interesting. Many  younger craftsmen, it seems, wanted to use the shards to create a memorial-some kind of monument or mosaic; others, however, were more concerned with copyrights, and refused to grant permission for their shards to be used in such a project. Koji Susukita, vice chairman of the Masahiko Potter’s Union, explained, “Potters…can spot their own work in a piece as small as a thumbnail.”  Finally, the mound was hauled away as industrial waste, with the larger shards further pulverized to prevent them from falling into the hands of “unscrupulous dealers”.  Great loss, greater pride, even greater waste, and no memorial in the end.

In another failed memorial attempt, officials of Kamaishi city have decided to demolish, rather than preserve, a 200 ton boat which had come to rest atop a building. I saw the photo in today’s International Herald Tribune: the massive thing lies astride the building smartly, undamaged, amid the bizarre tangle of wreckage below. I realize that technically boats cannot be “astride” anything, lacking legs, but this one certainly seems to be” riding” the building, which is about half its size. Despite the protests of 160 academics, the Mayor of Kamaishi has announced  its imminent demolition, citing preservation costs and “concerns that the boat could fall”. Well, yeah. This time I’d say that’s a smart move.

There has been good news this week as well. The government passed the official reconstruction budget -4 trillion yen-unanimously, in record time.

A former president of  Tokyo University has a proposal in the works for the installation of solar panels on all future housing for those displaced by the quake and tsunami, and a proposal to make them not only affordable, but profitable for home owners! More on this later if the proposal actually begins to materialize.

The body of Miki Endo, the young woman who announced the incoming tsunami over the city hall speakers repeatedly until she herself was engulfed, was finally found and identified, and her parents had a measure of closure.

Tokyo’s Aoyama University students, concerned that this year’s third-year high school students will be at a disadvantage in the college entrance exams (textbooks, drills, and even cram schools have been washed away), are boxing up study supplies to send to Tohoku. A nightly news special showed the well-dressed students (Aoyama students are VERY well-dressed) painstakingly erasing their own pencilled answers from used drill books, and hand-writing encouraging notes (“Don’t give up! Go to college!”) to send along to  the Tohoku students. Personally, I think it would be a wonderful thing to give all Tohoku third-year high school students an extra year to sort out their lives before going through the grueling process of college entrance examinations, but that does not seem likely.

There are, of course, more heartwarming stories, and more heartbreaking ones as well. We have yet to hear the next chapter of the Fukushima farmers, their long-suffering livestock, and their unsold produce. I’m sure that next week will bring new developments, so stay tuned.

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The Falcon Train Flies Again!

Hayabusa, the "Falcon Train"

It is Sunday afternoon in Japan; the end of a highly emotional week, or the  hopeful beginning of a new week , depending on your calendar. My wall calendar says it’s the start of a fresh new week, but my “techo”, or date book, says no: the old week has not been fully processed yet, and it’s too soon to put it behind me. Certainly, there was a lot to process. The biggest news on evening TV was the resumption of services of…..the Tokyo to Tohoku bullet train!  The trains themselves were undamaged by the quake, but power outages, damaged cables, and a myriad of complications have prevented them from running. Finally, this Monday, the first train was set to leave for Aomori prefecture, just North of Iwate. There was great fanfare and publicity as volunteers boarded the train, energized to aid in the clean-up efforts and play their part in the reconstruction of Tohoku. The train’s destination, Aomori, was shaken but relatively undamaged by the quake and tsunami, so tourist agencies had been assiduously promoting their hot springs and historical sites in an effort to lure tourists for the Golden Week holidays as well.  The bullet train up and running–it should have been a triumphant event….but it ended in frustration and disappointment as problems with overhead power cables in Tohoku prevented the train from leaving Shinjuku for six full hours. The well-wishers and tourists went home, the passengers waited-at first patiently, but with increasing boredom-and railway workers strove  frantically to resolve the problems. The train finally limped rather than sped out of the station in the early evening, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The train continued to be plagued with power outages and suspended services until Thursday, when it was announced that services were “back to normal”. For those of you who are not familiar with the newest, fastest, most stylish bullet train called “Hayabusa” (literally, the “Falcon Train” ) , I’m including a photo; even if you are not a train geek (a good portion of Japanese men are, and some women as well), you must admit that it is a thing of beauty and wonder. If you’ve had the good fortune to have ridden on any one of the legendary bullet trains, you will appreciate the comfort, cleanliness of the train, as well as the impeccable manners and attractiveness of the attendants who push the snack trolleys back and forth down the aisles.  Non-train geeks and those who have never indulged in the luxury of a bullet train ride must gaze at the photo and imagine the symbolic significance of this sleek mechanical beauty, and what it means to the country to have it up  and running again.

Aside from the symbolism, the “Falcon Train” is, as I mentioned, bringing hundreds of volunteers to cities like Ishinomaki and Kesennuma; young people from the Tokyo area have chosen to spend their Golden Week ( four national holidays sandwiched in between two weekends) in Tohoku, putting their energy and enthusiasm to work doing manual labor. At this point, there are still many more would-be-volunteers than there are resources to house and organize them. One might think that any help would be welcome, no?  But in reading a description of the volunteer experience of a British man who had travelled to Ishinomaki with an NPO called AP Bank, I began to understand why controlling the number of volunteers and planning and organizing their schedules is of such grave importance. The Tokyo man, Richard Smart, had been sent to an uraban area which had suffered very little structural damage, but had been deluged with mud and debris from the tsunami. He writes of the mind-boggling layers of protective covering he was required to don: “…industrial face masks, protective goggles, protective boots, industrial gloves and waterproofing from head to toe.”  His first thought was that these were just cautionary measures, but changed his tune quickly when confronted with “…a mix of dust, rotting matter, fish, oil and stagnating water,”  as well as a toxic sludge covering the floors of the buildings he was sent to clean. Within seconds, he and the other volunteers felt a burning in the back of their throats, and hurriedly slapped on the face masks.

Volunteers like Smart from various NPO agencies travel with their own food, sleep in tents, and take orders from local officials. In contrast, those who make their way up North as individuals without sleeping arrangements, food, protective clothing, or even a plan cause more trouble for already overworked officials and are, in general, not welcome. I have seen no mention of the language issue, but my guess is that non-Japanese speakers (no matter how genuine their desire to help may be) could also be problematic for local officials, as time would be wasted scouring the town for translators.  Locals are also understandably wary of “disaster tourists”, who arrive with cameras around their necks to gawk at the desolation, get a video to post on you tube, and hurry home. As the US Air Force troops stationed in Misawa (just north of the worst-hit areas) understood, picking up the pieces that were Northern Japan must be done carefully and precisely, the Japanese way. The airport in Sendai, which was nearly written off as a complete loss, was cleaned up (and believe me, that took more than a few dishrags) and given a new purpose as a desperately needed transit station for planes bearing aid supplies; this was done tactfully, with the approval and mutual efforts of the Japanese military. The US troops won praise for not charging in and wresting full control from the Japanese, and Japanese troops were equally praised for gracefully allowing the US troops to lend their expertise and bail them out (literally and figuratively!) of a situation they would have been hard-pressed to tackle alone. Regardless of how hard they were hit by the quake or the tsunami (or the combination), neighborhoods, villages, towns, and cities all have plans by now, and are beginning to move forward. Those who truly want to “help” must go through the proper channels, receive the proper permission, and work with qualified and experienced organizations (such as the volunteers who were sent from Kobe, who had first-hand knowledge of disaster clean-up), or their help turns out to be a further burden on an already stressed system.

I wrote that towns and cities have plans now and are moving forward, but that of course excludes the prefecture of Fukushima, where nothing is certain and the future cannot be predicted.  Towns closest to the crippled power plant have been completely evacuated, with livestock and family pets left behind to starve or run wild, whichever the case might be. Rumor says that veterinarians sent in to assess the situation found nearly all the cows locked in their stables either dead or severely weakened with hunger, the chickens  all dead, and pigs, as natural scavengers, surviving off the meat of the carcasses around them. We have no actual statistics, and can only imagine the carnage and suffering of the animals who have died and are dying–not of irradiation, but of hunger. Monday’s news focused on the farmers, their sorrow and frustration at being unable to evacuate their herds, and Tuesday’s news featured a demonstration in Tokyo (finally! About time!) held by farmers from the Fukushima prefecture, who had travelled to the big city with crates of fresh produce, huge metal containers of fresh milk, and two bewildered and long-suffering cows. The scene at the entrance to  TEPCO headquarters was broadcast on the nightly news: over the mooing of the cows, angry farmers demanded compensation for their losses (300 liters of milk poured out and wasted per day!), and declared themselves dissatisfied with the electric company’s response to the nuclear disaster. Many of the farmers live in Fukushima prefecture, yet far outside the evacuation zone, where the level of radiation is not considered dangerously high. No matter. Their milk will not sell.  ”This situation,” one farmer announced, “was caused by humans, not nature.”

On Tuesday, it was also announced that more towns outside the original evacuation zone must now prepare to leave by late May. Residents of these towns, whose homes and businesses are barely damaged and whose children have just begun attending school, are understandably angry and frustrated. Mayors from two of the cities, Iitate and Kawamata, met with the Prime Minister to discuss their grievances.  Meanwhile, as the Mayors frantically search for an evacuation site for their citizens, the playgrounds of their children’s schools have been declared unsafe. On Wednesday, backhoes were scraping off the surface layer of soil, which registered a dangerously high radiation level, from school playgrounds across Fukushima prefecture. No place could be found to dump or bury the irradiated soil (you want it??) , so it has been left on the playgrounds, covered over with some sort of giant metal container lids. Children wear masks indoors and out, and can no longer use the playground at all. Schools where the soil radiation level has tested normal allow children to play outdoors for a limited time each day, and only on days when the radiation level in the air is at a safe level; this is determined by teachers, who wear dosimeters strapped to their waists and check the radiation levels hourly. Back at home, parks and playgrounds also bear warning signs, urging children to play outside for no longer than an hour at a time. No trouble there-most mothers are restricting their children’s outdoor activities completely. Everything is on hold for these families as they wait to see where they will be evacuated to, how soon (or if ) they will be able to return, or whether, by some stroke of good fortune, decisions will be reversed and they will be allowed to stay. Needless to say, those who have already been evacuated live in a state of even more uncertainty and fear, unable to move forward until they know the final judgement on what they’ve left behind.

On Wednesday , the Emperor and Emperess politely declined their invitation to Will and Kate’s royal wedding, and set off for Sendai, where they were seen visiting with and consoling shelter victims. The Emperess, who manages to be a combination of graceful, warm, and uninhibited, bent down to the level of the elderly residents, clasping their hands, and receiving a hand-picked bunch of daffodils from a woman who had lost her house, but found the flowers intact in her garden.

On Thursday, there was a Buddhist ceremony held jointly in memory of pupils from a single elementary school in Ishinomaki; seventy-four out of one hundred and eight students either dead or missing. The service, held in a vast indoor space lined with flowers, offerings, and photographs of the children, brought tears to the eyes of parents and teachers across the country who, like me, couldn’t tear themselves away from the raw emotion of the scene. Also on Thursday, TEPCO declared that “compensation guidelines have been set”, promising to pay out trillions of yen in damages, including emotional damage caused by weeks or months of shelter life. The government declares that although the final responsibility belongs to TEPCO, they will step in to make sure the payments are made. How either TEPCO or the government will come up with the trillions of yen is the real question, and politicians are seen arguing heatedly among themselves about the financial crisis on public television all day long. “Get a move on, and decide SOMEthing,” I want to say, but although Japan is technically a democracy, I know I won’t get that chance. I only hope that more time is not wasted in deposing yet another Prime Minister this spring (there are already calls for his resignation)!  Let’s just make do with what we have, and move forward with some plan–any plan–to begin the process of compensation and reconstruction.

Friday was spent in setting up this blog, and Saturday was a charity Easter Egg Hunt held on the lovely green lawn of a local college campus. Nearly two hundred small children showed up, and the event raised over a thousand dollars (in yen, of course…I’m estimating in dollars) to stock a damaged library in the Tohoku region. The weather was fine, the children adorable, and the event went off without a hitch. The money is just a drop in the bucket considering the damages, but I was doing what I do best (entertaining and engaging with children), and enjoying myself thoroughly. As a woman I admire, the Granny of the Big Smile, said, that’s what it’s all about anyway. A blogger known as the Tokyo Twilighter says it this way: “To support Japan, what I would say is this: Simply do what you do every day, but do it better. Go to school or to work but with passion and energy. Engage your neighbors or community but with more sympathy and compassion than you every have. Let these historic moments move you, inspire you and invigorate you for as long as the feeling lasts because, believe me, that initial adrenaline and humanitarian solidarity will wear off. Ride it as long as you can. Let it make you be a better person, and let it wake you up from the complacency in your life.”

Good night, and thank you for reading.

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