So I said I'd post some thoughts/reflections on the situation later...here it comes.
On Friday afternoon, it was a normal Friday. I'd gotten off of work at 12:30 because I only work half days on Friday. That morning I had played with my preschoolers and told them to look forward to our future English classes as they move on to the Elementary school next month. I was getting my hair cut at a local barber shop, about a 10 minute walk from my house-- suddenly the ground started shaking a bit.
"Hey, is the ground moving?" my barber asked. Yeah it was-- and soon the shakes were a bit more noticable, but felt like any small local earthquake. It was only when the Entertainment program we were watching got taken over by national news that we realized that it wasn't just our village, but the whole northern half of the country that was shaking. My eyes widened as live footage from the news station came on showing their shaking office and the computers and desk equipment crashing around the place.
Of course the first thing on the agenda was contacts-- I played the "are you ok" telephone tag with friends and relatives all around and outside the country. Tokyo, Chiba, Kyoto... thankfully slowly but surely answers came back with sighs of relief. My cousin's wife is Japanese and her family is from Chiba (a prefecture just east of Tokyo), and we're quite close, as I've stayed with her family a number of times. It took the greater part of Friday and Saturday to get in touch with them, but I was just glad when Maki-nee (her younger sister, who is a couple years older than me and always babies me like her little brother) got in touch with me to tell me everyone was ok.
Since then it's been a roller coaster of emotions, watching the footage and dealing with the situation-- even while being far separated from the actual action. Incredible relief that "phew, it missed." Utter disbelief, thinking how very easily it could have been my own town and myself (and subsequent empathy watching destroyed footage of a place so very similar to the one I now call home). An odd sense of normality, hanging out with friends on the weekend and going about a town that's pretty much "going on with life," unaffected directly by the massive events only just over 170 kilometers away. And of course, incredibly remorse for the families and people who have lost so much to this tragedy.
「ま、死者が出なくて住むといいよな」
"Well, it'd be great if this passes with no one dying."
Is what I remember saying half-seriously and half-casually to my hair stylist as the tremors stopped and we watched footage of falling desk work on Friday afternoon-- only two days ago, but it seems like it was ages ago.
Even now, the odd mix of fear as the situation with Fukushima's nuclear power plant continues to go unresolved. My family in Hawaii has called for me and my cousin Arisa, who is studying at Keio in Tokyo while also training in her Japanese dance, to come home immediately, and wait out the situation with the power plant at a distance, despite both of us being over 100 miles away. I can't say I blame them (and also would be lying if I said I didn't have real fear), and have decided to pack light, and obey my parent's call.
Nothing has been decided yet, but my family has already made arrangements for me to fly back home through Nagaoka on Tuesday, which in Aichi region, is thankfully even farther away from Fukushima. I will make the call of whether to stay or leave based on the developments of news on the nuclear plant tomorrow.
It's another odd mix of complex feelings-- on one hand, the fear for my own well being and the 覚悟 (kakugo, determination/readiness of heart) to act drastically if need be for that sake. On the other, a strange sense of shame/sorrow, a regret in feeling like I'm fleeing alone and leaving behind my students, friends and community. These odd feelings have allowed me to realize how, even in the mere half a year I have been here, I have come to call this place home, and truly care about the people around me. I know the faces of every single child in this town, and they all know me as well. The odds of anything happening to them are extremely remote, and yet I'm probably leaving for a bit-- and there's a strong regret in leaving them behind.
Logically it's unreasonable, since whether I'm here or not makes no difference to the safety of my students. Not having the Assistant Language Teacher around for a week of English classes will mean nothing in the long run of their English education. Nor does anyone think it's odd for me to leave-- to the villagers, my family's response to the situation is "very Japanese," and my obedience to them is also "very Japanese," meaning they have been very understanding of my situation. That said, being human, no amount of logic can erase an unease of heart.
I was at the supermarket today when one of my students ran into me-- he's in the 2nd grade. "Chou Sensei!" He ran up to me and made me play janken (rock-paper-scissors) with him while his older sister in the 4th grade (who is also one of my students of course) tried to pull him away "Hey, this isn't the time to bother Sensei!"
It really made my day.
As I bought a giant box of Crystal Geyser water bottles, and rolled up to the station to fill up on gas (waiting in what, a 2 minute line?), I couldn't help feel bitter knowing about what's going on so very far, and yet so very close to here.
What a crazy weekend it's been though.
It's just the same thing everyone's been saying-- but my heart goes out for those directly affected and struggling amongst it all. Watching a film on CNN of a mother, who looks so much like my own, crying as she looks through lists to try and locate her son... I just can't describe the emotions.
仙台、そしてその周りの地域の人々、ご無事を御祈りします。近い内に、それらの町町、そしてこの日本が、あるべき姿に戻り、立ち上がるように、御祈りしております。
"To the people of Sendai and the surrounding areas, I pray for your well being. I pray that soon, the many towns, and this Japan, will be able to stand, and restore its rightful appearance."
edit: Miyage prefecture is now estimating over 10,000 deaths.