However, a friend recently sent me an e-mail about Naoto Matusmura, the gentleman who stayed in the “No Go Zone” around the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant in order to care for the animals left behind. She said, “I googled Naoto Matsumura and got caught up on some of the latest news about him lately.  Just a couple weeks ago, he transported a sick cow (with spots all over its hide) to Tokyo and demanded that it be seen by some officials . . . and this drew a crowd including the police.  Naturally I am sure he expected this, and I believe he is doing all he can to keep the energy going for ‘his’ animals . . . He is a dedicated soul, and does all he can to bring awareness to the problems the people face, as well as the plight of the animals still left behind.”

 

Something that has also been reported is that since 03/11 more people have died from disaster-related causes than from the earthquake and tsunami themselves. Over half of the cases are in Fukushima Prefecture. 

A few days ago an adult student of mine told me her seven year old daughter was refusing to go to school. She found the classes boring and felt her teacher did not understand her. This mother went on to say that many children had become very fragile since the 03/11 disaster. And she added, so had the teachers. “There is a great emotional vulnerability now that we never had before. I myself am OK because I am tough. But I can’t push my child or her teachers because I have the feeling that they might break. It is a very delicate situation. And I am not sure what to do.” The suicide rate is up, so her concerns are very genuine.

As in other parts of the world, young people in general are disillusioned and lost. With the terrible economy, this generation has little sense of a future. “They have no dream,” as many people say. “And how can you live without a dream?”

Despite these dark undercurrents, there are other things happening that are solid and sure. Things are changing. At first the concerns were overwhelmingly physical. How to clean up the mess the tsunami left, how to find a place to live, how to start work again. But now people everywhere are now asking, “How can we build up our emotional fortitude in the face of impending disasters?”

 
A nearby community hall had a musician who sang, accompanied by mascots from all over Japan. They came out one after another to bow and dance to the eager audience. It was a sweet gesture to give people a sense of fun and of being cared about.

Today the offering was held in a park, rather than in the Social Welfare Building. It is the rainy season, but the inclement weather held off just in time for everyone to get a good lunch. So it was a fortunate day.

(sign for Yomawari’s “Soup Run” activities)

This time I went with three friends. Two of them live in Sendai, and one, a recent acquaintance named Austin, came up from Tokyo. He enjoys volunteering whenever he can. In fact, the first time I met him was in Fukushima’s infamous Minami Soma about nine months ago. He was helping to dig out places that were left behind because of the nuclear problems so close to the town.

Today’s “Soup Run” followed its usual routine. The food had been prepared beforehand, so everyone, volunteers and homeless alike, helped unload the trucks and get things set up. There were the usual mats with tinned food and clothes for the men and women to select from, and of course, the tables with the hot lunch of rice and curry.

    

There is always a short meeting before we start and another when we finish. That allows everyone to have the same focus and to know how things will be run that day. Austin told me he was impressed by how orderly the people were and how respectfully they were treated. That is one of the hallmarks of Yomawari, I feel. It truly lives up to the Christian ideal of brotherly love.

Austin is American-Japanese, so knows both cultures and languages well. He is also very outgoing, so immediately went to talk with Aoki Sensei to learn more about what Yomawari Group does. When he finished, he said, “I am very impressed with what this group is doing.”

I asked Austin to elaborate, and he said, “Not only have they done a lot already to help these men get back on their feet, but they are planning some good things for the future, too. The one they are currently working on is farming. It seems Sendai City has some land that they are thinking of using for agriculture. Yomawari wants to be in on that. It has hopes of providing farm work on that property for the homeless. The produce they grow can be used for the “Soup Runs” and the rest can be sold. That way the men and women can earn some money, which will be beneficial for everyone.”

As I said good-bye to Austin, he shook my hand and said, “I am so glad I came here to volunteer. I hope to come back another time when they are making the food as well as serving it. I really want to contribute all I can to this wonderful organization.”

Love,
Anne

 
The other was fires that raged for days on end. Needless to say, the devastation was horrendous. And unfortunately, rebuilding has been slow. But gradually in some areas progress is being made.

One of the most newsworthy recent changes involved the displaced tanker. Until a few months ago, debates sallied back and forth about what to do with her. One side wanted to turn the area into a memorial park, with that huge ship as the major focal point. But the other side was animate to remove all evidence of that time and to boldly move forward. Finally a survey was taken (albeit incomplete), and 68% opted to get rid of that humbled carcass. So now instead of the astonishment of a tanker lodged far inland next to a hill, there are bulldozers, trucks, and backhoes leveling the land, and making mounds of earth for blockage against the unpredictable sea.

   

Even though the controversial tanker has been removed, tragic landmarks from that blistering time still dot the cityscape. One middle school, for example, has been left pretty much as it was. 

  

(two years ago) (now)
 
Much of the port area is empty lots.

 

To tell the truth, there have been many hurdles to overcome before rebuilding can really get under way. Many of the proposals for the reconstruction, like building a huge sea wall, come from government officials. They may be national civil servants in Tokyo, or more regional ones in the prefecture or city. But their practical ideas are at loggerheads with what many of the locals themselves want. Of course, everyone would like to see Kesen-numa on its feet again. But how to do that appropriately is causing this ongoing tug-of-war.

Dear Family and Friends,

Iwanuma is the township adjacent to Natori, where OISCA does its great work. Sendai Airport is in Iwanuma, so getting that area back on its feet quickly is crucial.

Both Natori and Iwanuma are working to create a safe coastal region. Yet, the two have very different approaches. Natori and OISCA have a plan to reforest the region with a uniform pine tree forest. They want to use mainly locals. Iwanuma’s program is more varied. Instead of only a single forest, its work includes a large park. It will eventually extend from the sea wall to several kilometers inland. This recreational area already has large expanses of open space, dotted here and there with low mounds. On top of those pimples of land are gazebos with artwork and memorial stones, plus views of the sea.

      

 

Between the tsunami wall and the park is a manmade ridge that extends along the entire coastline. Of course, that sloping hill needs to be very stable. And that is why volunteers came, again from all over the country, for another day of planting trees.

Unlike OISCA’s gracious NGO endeavor, this one was enormous. Iwanuma City government sponsored it. So, rather than 350 volunteers, there were about 6000! Naturally, the atmosphere between the two events was vastly different.

 
I went with a friend and her neighbors. As before we were greeted at the airport with people holding signs. Since the site was nearby, we walked. Naturally, there were hordes of us, so all along the route there were other people indicating the correct path.

      

 
When we arrived at the registration area, it felt like a carnival. There was music blaring out of loud speakers, food stalls, and huge banners advertising which companies and groups were there. 

    

Among many others, there was a Hitachi crowd in bright orange shirts, school kids in baseball uniforms, the Iwanuma Green Forest Wall Project with its own T-shirts, AEON, and the Silver Center of oldsters.

  

After all 6000 of us had finally assembled into our neat little groups, we were told to stand and face east. That is, towards the Mother of this entire project: the Ocean. We bowed our heads in silent prayer of humility before Forces larger than ourselves and of respect to those lost in the tsunami.

Then we all sat down and were introduced to important guests. The son of Koizumi was one of several politicians. Plus there were TV talents and radio hosts, university presidents and, happily, a cluster of local school children. And the press, of course.

  

We were to plant a “natural” forest with sixteen varieties of trees. 

 

Since most of us and little or no idea what each tree was, the celebrities on stage, with the help of Professor Miyawaki from Yokohama National University, shouted out the names one by one. 

 

Then all 6000 of us loudly repeated the names three times. Finally we all raised our right fists in the air and shouted, “Gambarimashou”, again three times.

Each leader took his group to their specific area. Along the way we saw trays of trees, bundles of straw, boxes of water, and colorful trowels. 

  

Likewise, from beginning to end, we were entertained with familiar songs broadcast over loudspeakers. It was an uncomfortably hot day in the direct sun. So I suppose the singing helped to entertain us and to make the atmosphere merry.  

First we were given a demonstration on how to plant the trees. “We want a natural forest, so put things randomly, but not too close together.” 

  

After planting, we had to cover the hill with straw bundles and then tie everything down with thick rope. 

   

The final job was to hurl water over our great labors. Once we got started, the work went amazingly quickly.

All too soon our work was finished. The team leaders bowed their thanks to us; and we bowed our gratitude in return. And then we each went our own way.

I wanted to see the sea, hidden behind the tsunami wall. So I wandered over to one of the mounds. En route I was happy to come across a batch of trees that had been planted the year before. It was very reassuring to see that they were strong and becoming taller. I hope in the years ahead today’s babies will gradually take hold and eventually become a forest themselves.

Even though today was happy, as I drifted along the pathways, I could feel the deep sadness that still lingers in the earth, the air, the sea, and the sky. I heard a bell ringing with one deep gong after another. I wandered toward the sound and found a monument dedicated to those who perished. Each of their names was carved in stone. Visitors were searching for people they had known and loved. Several of them burst into tears when they found a significant name – even now, more than three years since that harrowing nightmare occurred.

 
The bell itself was like an altar. Anyone could ring it. All who did then bowed and placed their hands in a gesture of prayer. There was a continuous line of people who sought that place of reflection and respect. The bell chimed non-stop the entire day.

 
I stayed for a long while in that sacred space. But eventually I headed back to the Disneyland arena, where a cowboy-clad singer was wailing away and crowds were munching on rice balls and sweet cakes. 

 

I could not help but to reflect upon the day. Even though the atmosphere, for the most part, had been light and full of entertainment, there was something as serious and as well intended as the more humble OISCA affair had been. I am glad I went to this event, too. And when asked who would come back next year, without hesitation I said, yes. And yes, And yes again.

Love, 
Anne

Even so, one very precious day was set aside for people from all over the country to help plant trees. I was honored to be part of that special event. I went with a former student, now a friend, and the day was very significant for both of us.

March 8, 2014

Dear Family and Friends,

A few months ago I wrote about a tree-planting project going on just outside of Sendai, in a town called Natori. An NGO called OISCA is deeply involved in that life-enhancing work. 

Part of their job entails gaining support of locals, so they do all they can to include them in planning and activities. For example, they subcontract local tsunami survivors, many of whom are farmers. Those folks have helped start the seedlings, are nursing them carefully, and will be part of the team to plant the baby trees in the spring.

Recently, too, OISCA has held town meetings to explain their project to the people in the area. Also the other day they ran a morning tour of places where they had been working. Since I am keenly interested in what is happening in this region, I signed up to join them.

This tour was for educational purposes, so there was Professor Ota Takehiko, Professor Emeritus of Tokyo University, plus several other experts on pine trees and forests. The Mayor of Natori City also joined us. These gentlemen shared many interesting points about black pine trees and why there were the best choice for this area.

As the bus rolled out to the coastal areas, we looked at charts and listened to explanations about the intricacy of this vast, far-reaching endeavor. We learned that black pine trees have an extremely sturdy root system. They are very hardy trees, but also sensitive to the earth they are in. So if the land is low, the roots tend to spread horizontally. But even with a slight rise, they will grow vertically and deeply, which makes for a more stable outcome.

And sure enough, as we went through the low, almost treeless, tsunami-hit areas, we passed a teeny pimple of risen land. A small shrine had been built there, and lo and behold, pine trees were tenaciously clinging to the soil around it. They had survived the tremendous force of the tsunami, although all the trees just next to them on lower ground had perished.

I have wandered many times in the area where OISCA is working. However, I had never realized that wonderful organization was part of the rebuilding going on in that specific place. I had mostly seen trucks plying back and forth, moving salt-filled earth and replacing it with fresh soil. I know about the park to be built behind the sea wall. And I had listened to the tales of farmers losing their land because of all these changes. But this time I was able to learn about the master plan for this devastated area.

The sea wall is there, in concrete. But behind that there is a man-made rise of land with triangular wooden frames. I had photographed those structures on previous occasions, but this time I learned their specific purpose. They are there to protect the young black pine forest that OISCA is helping to birth.

Wind is a huge factor in this stretch of land between the mountains and the sea. Yet, strangely, the protective wooden frames are not solid. Rather, they have many slats. Those breaks in the sides of the frames are for the wind to go through, while still protecting the precious new life of the saplings. If the frames were solid, the wind would swoop up violently and then pound down hard on the earth, causing great damage to both the soil and the plants. But with the space, the air goes through evenly, and skims across the land relatively smoothly. In that way, the trees are better able to withstand the fierce gales that are notorious in this region.

There are three rows of financial responsibility for this immense project. The strip of land closest to the ocean is Miyagi Prefecture’s domain. The next is Natori City’s concern. The final one is the Japanese government’s area. OISCA is involved in all three of them, providing the expertise, management, and direction needed for this ten-year project to materialize. Beyond the forest park will be a buffer zone then farms and a road. Three kilometers and further inshore will be the homes of locals.

At the end of the tour we went to see the seedlings and baby pine trees that have been stretching and growing over the winter. The planning of this project is very precise. At first ten grams of seeds are planted in one-meter square areas. As they grow, they are thinned out. When the actual planting of the forest takes place, the trees will be placed 1.4 meters apart. OISCA is talking about 50,000 trees, so you can imagine the work involved and the enormous area to be covered.

The best time to transplant is when the infant trees are from 25–35 centimeters high. In order to prevent them from growing beyond that height, these babies are deliberately not fertilized. If they were given extra nutrients, they would grow too quickly and too large. That would cause problems later when it came time to shift them to their permanent locations. 

When OISCA first began working here, they planted seedlings directly into the soil. There were nets to protect the baby shoots from the wind. However, later the government passed a law that seedlings had to be planted in small plastic containers in greenhouses. The work is easier that way, but unfortunately it is also more expensive. That frustrates the situation, but rules are rules, so OISCA complies.

Before arriving at OISCA’s “seeding farm”, we went quite far down the beach, further than I had ever walked. There amid the high grasses was a stone monument. It had been placed there many years before. Miraculously, it had withstood the tsunami with only a broken top. 

Ironically, it was there to commemorate a tree-planting project that had been executed long, long ago by locals. They were not professionals – maybe students, office workers, housewives, and farmers. But the trees had lasted for years, even though they were all gone now.

OISCA’s project is similar, but more professional, with technological expertise and precision. But the heart is the same: the desire to make Miyagi a viable area for farming, fishing, and living – with trees as the backbone and nurturing mother for centuries to come.

Love,

                                                            

                              

               

                                                        

February 1, 2014

PS. Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work. But neither are you free to abandon it. (The Talmud)

December 13, 2013

Dear Family and Friends,

My last letter portrayed the ongoing grief that pervades Fukushima. Even now that tragedy, along with so many others worldwide, tears at the world’s soul. However, life always seems to find a balance. And the other day a beautiful example of that unexpectedly crossed my path.

In Sendai Station a photo of a newly emerging pine tree caught my eye. Since I love photography and nature, I ventured into the small show to have a look. Before long I found myself completely mesmerized. It was not only because of the fine quality of the images, but also because of their hope-filled message.

To my delight I learned about a Japanese organization that devotes itself to recovery of land through environmentally sustainable development. That, of course, includes planting trees. This admirable endeavor is called OISCA, or to be precise, the Organization for Industrial, Spiritual, and Cultural Advancement. (1) Even though their headquarters are in Tokyo and even though they have projects all over the world, OISCA has come to Miyagi to help in our post-tsunami recovery.

But before going into the wonderful work of OISCA here, please let me digress with a bit of history. Sendai was founded over 400 years ago by a shrewd, but very wise, forward-looking daimyo named Masamune Date. He established many progressive programs for the betterment of this region. One that has endured over the centuries was the planting of a forest of black pine trees all along the coast of Miyagi. The winds in this northeast corridor can be fierce, as can the storms and waves. But having a belt of trees along the sea’s edge serves as a buffer against the fierce challenges of nature.

Because of Masamune Date’s belt of forest, Miyagi had more trees along its coast than either Fukushima to the south or Iwate to the north. That advantage enabled this region to prosper for hundreds of years. However, it also meant that Miyagi sustained the greatest loss of its coastal forest during the infamous tsunami of March 11, 2011.

OISCA is an organization that is on top of world events. So as soon as they realized the extent of the damage in Tohoku, they let the local government of Natori, a small city adjacent to Sendai, know it was available if they wished assistance. (2) OISCA never forces its way into an area. Likewise, it never tells people how to do things. Rather, they offer assistance, accept invitations, and work closely with locals.

“The people have to want us and to work closely with us. Otherwise we do not go to a region,” explained Toshimichi Yoshida San, the manager of this tree-planting project in Natori. 

The Natori Coastal Forest Restoration Project is to run for ten years at the cost of a billion yen (about 10 million dollars) All the money is to come from donations. In this case all money will be entirely from within Japan. (3) “The reason is because of the paperwork involved. As it is, it is overwhelming,” explained Yoshida San with a sigh!

He continued by telling me that the Natori Project has three aspects. “One is tree planting, of course. That is the fun part. Many of the volunteers working with us lost their homes in the tsunami. So they are really eager to be part of this rebuilding. Then there is fund raising. That goes on and on. Finally there is all the organizing and coordinating. Those entail meeting after meeting, as we work to harmonize all aspects of the program. It is hard work, but we are coming along nicely.

“When I started out, I knew nothing about black pines or about a program like this. But I did a LOT of research, interviewed hundreds of government officials, farmers, and other locals. I learned so much. Now we all trust each other, so we work well together.

“And we are pleased with how things are going. The first batch of baby tress is to be planted next spring. It is really very exciting. Of course, I won’t live to see the forest in its full glory. But my grandchildren and great-grandchildren surely will. Knowing that always helps to inspire and motivate me.

“And please be sure to join us next spring. Come as a volunteer and add your efforts to rebuild Miyagi. What you and so many others do will be appreciated for literally hundreds of years.”

Without any hesitation, of course I said I would. Who could not want to be part of such a beautiful, life-enhancing project that is so close to home?

 

(1) Each word of OISCA’s name has a special meaning, which relates closely to its mission. The following definitions are from the Internet. “Industrial” refers to “the promotion of agriculture and other primary industries that are fundamental to human existence.” “Spiritual” is an inner experience not connected to any outer religion. It includes “the need to nurture qualities such as self-reliance, dedication for one`s own community, international brother-sisterhood and respect for Earth`s ecological integrity on which life is grounded.” And finally “Cultural represents the intent to encourage the magnificent cultural diversity that has enriched human life and the universal need to promote cultural patterns such as culture of peace.”

For further information, please visit the OISCA website. It is in both Japanese and English

(2) They chose Natori because it was one of the hardest hit areas, suffering some of the greatest loss of trees

(3) OISCA’s international programs accept worldwide donations

 

 

Love,

Anne

Dear Family and Friends,

Imai Sensei’s Yomawari Group is as busy as ever. I usually do not have time to volunteer with them, but today I was able to assist giving lunch to about forty homeless people. It was pouring rain, but even so we offered warm curry rice under an eave of the Sendai Welfare Plaza.

The Yomawari Group and the people they serve seem like a close-knit unit, almost a family. Among the volunteers, everyone has a role and does it well. I always have a few favorites who show up to help out. One lovely simple soul in particular touches my heart. He always shows up to socialize and help in any way he can.

Another is a very proud man who delights in welcoming the homeless as graciously and politely as if he were ushering them into a tea ceremony. 

He bows to each guest and greets him by name.

It is always a pleasure helping the Yomawari Group. Week after week, month after month, year after year – rain, snow, or shine – they are there to help the homeless of this community. They not only serve hot lunches (along with packaged food and clothes to take away), but also provide showers and laundry services. In addition they find cleaning jobs for the men, and offer counseling for finding housing and more stable work. Some of the volunteers now go to Fukushima to assist there as well.

Yomawari Group serves hundreds of people and is always ready to help those in need. Yet it always stays very personal and deeply caring. Its mission is definitely “From the Ground to the Heart.”

Autumn 2013

Dear Family and Friends,

Rice grown in the Tohoku area is particularly delicious. There are many varieties, each with its own special flavor and texture. In recent years, however, young folks have been flocking to cities for work, leaving mostly oldsters to run the farms. That, in addition to the devastation of coastal areas from the tsunami, plus the impending uplifting of tariffs on imported rice when the TPP comes fully into effect, rice growing in this region seems doomed. (However, it should be added that rice tariffs and TPP are still a hotly debated issue at this time.)

Despite the gloomy predictions about Japanese rice growing, there is an effort to keep the tradition alive. One way is that JA, “Japan Agriculture”, wants to encourage young people to grow Asia’s “gods’ grain” and to feel pride in their work. So, every year in autumn when the harvest is first coming in, there is a small “paddy in a bucket” event for locals with nearby farms.

Prior to this lovely, heart-filled event, each participant receives a blue bucket. Then on a designated day, in it they bring in their best specimen of paddy rice. In my neighborhood they meet outside the main supermarket. The organizers line up all the “bucket-paddies”, ranging from the most gorgeous to the most fragile specimens. There are always lots of farm kids there, too. So the people in charge make their instructive speeches short.

“Kids, and adults, too, see this rice here? Now why do you think this is the best we have today? . . . That’s right. The grains are full and abundant. And look how the stalks bend down so nicely. The field where this was grown must have had good soil, plenty of water, and just the right amount of sunshine.”

Then he moved on to the next bucket. “Now the one here looks great because of the nice green leaves. But if you look closely, you can see where a mite is eating the leaves. No good. This can spread and cause a lot of damage.”

He went to the next. “This one is a bit shabby. There are hardly any grains and the stalks are thin. Needs better water and sunlight.”

After his brief, but informative talk, the main organizer handed out certificates. 

The first-prize winners got a kilo of new rice. 

The next won a box of special Miyagi cakes. Third-prize got a bag full of leeks right off the farm.

Then it was time for a group photo. And of course, “Good luck getting through the winter ahead and see you next year.”

This event is fun because it is so delightfully low-key and local. But deeper than that, it encourages people to be proud of their farming roots and to stick with that tradition to help rebuild this area. And heaven knows, we surely do need that life-giving profession in these days of uncertainty and great change.

 

Love,
Anne

October 2013

Dear Family and Friends,

Very recently, and completely by chance, I noticed a sign about a Charity Walk. It was to take place a few days hence, so I did not have a chance to sign up. But since I am interested in what is happening in this area, I went to check it out.

The start was at Sendai Airport. When I arrived at the early hour of 6:30, I was greeted by a man with a big smile and a sign indicating where to register.  

Surprisingly, even at that early hour, almost all of the 300 participants had already assembled and were receiving a number. 

The organizers were all from Aoba-ya, the company sponsoring the event. They wore bright green jackets and politely directed the participants to their designated groups. To start there were speeches, of course.

The participants came from near and far. Most were from Miyagi, but a few were from Tokyo and even as far away as Nagano. Ages ranged from the 20s to what appeared to be the 70s. One person was blind. One was a foreigner, an American.

One of the organizers told me Aoba-ya Company employees had walked the forty-kilometer course three months before. They wanted to be fully prepared before for sponsoring this meaningful charity event. Having walked it themselves, they knew exactly where rest stops should by, what drinks and snacks should be offered, and the importance of toilets. In fact, three portable ones followed along in vehicles just to be sure no one would be inconvenienced.

The participation fee was ¥10,000, or about $100. Half would go to setting up the walk and the rest to rebuilding efforts in Miyagi. This year the money would go to Ishinomaki, a fishing town north of Sendai. The company plans to hold a similar charity walk every year for ten years. This was the first.

The set off was warm with a smacking of hands for courage. 

Even the old gentleman who started the company and his wife were there cheering people at the start.

It was very moving to see them and to think about what this company was doing for the area. It was also impressive to realize how they were thinking long term and willing to commit themselves to this event for the next ten years.

* * * * *

After I waved good-bye to the last participant, I turned my attention to the area around the airport. I had not been there for about a year, so wanted to explore. It was still very flat and empty, save one smashed building still standing. There were a few pine trees, too, alive but teetering at the same angle the tsunami had left them.

I wandered up to the seawall, still very much under construction. It seemed to stretch for miles. Behind it were long triangular tunnels made of logs. A worker explained that the coastline in that area would be raised several meters. The wooden frames were the foundation for that higher land. When finished, the reconstructed area would become an extensive memorial park. The work should take twenty years or more.

I wondered if I might have a shot of him and his wife this year, too. He beamed, but his wife ran to the truck pretending to be too shy. Actually, she was fixing her hair and pressing down her dress with her hands to be presentable for the photo.

  

They told me this would be the last year they could have their land. Then it would be swallowed up into the memorial park. “We’re still in temporary housing,” they informed me. “No fields there.”

(Temporary housing complex in Natori, outside Sendai)

“We used to have a big house right here. We all lived together. It was lively with all the grandchildren. We loved it. Now everyone is scattered all over the place. A few are in Sendai, but others are as far away as Tokyo.

“Times have changed,” they added with a sigh. “But that’s life, isn’t it? We’re lucky that we are all alive. And anyway, for the prefecture it’s good to be moving forward.” They paused and then added, “Yes, we have to think of what comes after us. That’s what makes today meaningful, even if in our personal lives we have lost so much.”

Philosophical farmers, new land, and a lovely charity walk: Miyagi deliberately and carefully evolving its way into a positive tomorrow.

Of course, physical concerns are taken into account, but of equal or greater importance are the emotions. I remember watching the news immediately after the Great East Japan Tsunami and Earthquake of 3/11. Naturally, the reportage dealt with the horrific images of loss and destruction. But in addition to that, scientists were interviewed about the Fukushima problem. Those experts spent much of their time working to ease people’s concerns.

There were signs on the walls of some announcing activities and meetings, and looking for missing items and people. (There are still quite a few who are unaccounted for.)

There was even an area where people had made vegetable gardens. The earth was first lovingly prepared by university students soon after the residents moved in. After all, most of them there were either farmers or fishermen, so working with their hands and growing their own food came naturally to them.

The whole place felt upbeat, even though I was there when many people were away at work. It was easy to see that many folks were working hard to make the complex feel welcoming and like a community. Medeshima Tobu was more fortunate than others in that for the most part their entire community before the tsunami had been sent to this same complex. So they were not as lost as those in other temporary places.

Dear Family and Friends,

Rie is one of my university students. One day when we were chatting, she began talking about her father. “I really admire him,” she said. “I’ve never seen someone work so hard as he has since the tsunami.” The more Rie talked about her father, the more I wanted to interview him.

The first thing Yoshinori Kikuchi San said to me was, “I am truly a lucky man.” And then his story began to unfold. He had had a large seafood packing and distributing company in Ishinomaki, Miyagi. It was directly near the sea, so not surprisingly, it was devastated on March 11, 2011. 

“At the time of the earthquake, my wife and I were in Tokyo on business. Even down there the earth started shaking violently. We immediately switched on the radio and heard what was happening in Tohoku. I had never had any real experience with tsunami damage because there was a protective wall between our factory and the sea. But something inside said this one was going to be a whopper.

“My factory and family house were very close to one another. I had three daughters at home, so immediately I called them. Luckily, very luckily, I could get through. People calling locally in Tohoku could not get any connection, but we were in Tokyo, so we could. I told my daughters to get to high ground as fast as they could.

 “Then I called the factory. I told the workers to open all the doors and then get as far away from the sea as possible. Opening the doors was important. That way the water could enter the building without much resistance. Then there might be a slim chance that the entire structure would not be destroyed. And it paid off. Water went up to the top floor, but the iron frame of the building held.

 

(The light brown line shows the tsunami water mark. It is on the second floor of the building)

“Again, I was lucky,” he continued. “I had gone to Tokyo by car. There were no buses, trains, or planes at that time, but I had a way to get home. Also very fortunately my car was a hybrid, so it did not need as much gasoline as an ordinary car. Later we recharged our phones and even cooked from it. Lucky!

“Of course, my wife and I were panicked, so we immediately hit the road. We were all right for a while, but as we got closer to Tohoku, the roads became clogged with cars. Everyone was trying to get home. It took us 27 hours of non-stop driving, but we made it.

“Our kids were our major concern. So we headed straight for the school where we thought they might be. There were well over a thousand people there, so finding them took a while. But finally we saw them. I’ll never forget that feeling of utter relief to see my girls – and our dog – all safe and with smiles. We ran into each other’s arms and held one another for a long time.

 

(Small sculpture in front of Ishinomaki Station)

“After resting a bit, my wife and I headed to where our home and factory had been. The army had already started to clear roads, so we could make our way through the rubble. Close to our factory I saw someone wearing my company’s uniform, so I knew he was one of our employees. He seemed dazed, overcome with disbelief. ‘It’s all gone, boss,’ he said almost in tears. Together we went to inspect the damage. Our factory was indeed a huge pile of broken dreams and shattered lives. I was overwhelmed. But I had people who depended on me. I simply could not collapse.

“Again, luck was with me. It came in the form of my wife. She and I had worked together for years. We both looked forward in the same direction. And during that terrible time we continued the supportive teamwork. 

After about three days of stunned shock, she and I sat down and started planning. The first thing was to send the children to relatives. We were very fortunate to have family in another part of Tohoku. Many families all came from Ishinomaki, so had no relatives elsewhere. But my wife was from the Japan Sea area. They really helped us a lot. They took in our kids and supported us in every way they could. One way to thank them is to make my company a success again.

“We had four children and thirteen employees. We felt a tremendous duty to them, and also to our ancestors who started this company. 

All those things really motivated us to act quickly. We did not think it was fair to apply for temporary housing; we were young and not handicapped. So we immediately rented an apartment.

“My wife and I started reading every document we could about how to apply for government compensation money and loans and how to rebuild a business. We were really on the ball, so were some of the first to get started moving forward. We built new buildings, bought new equipment, and tried to reconnect to former business partners.

 

“We couldn’t have done any of this without the help of the government. I really, really appreciate all it has done for us. It’s unbelievable. Do you realize they gave us compensation money that was three-fourths of what we needed? The other quarter was a twenty-year, interest-free loan. Can you believe that generosity? And on top of that, the schools where two of my daughters go gave us free tuition for a year or longer. Unbelievable. You can’t imagine the depth of my appreciation.

     

“Before 3/11 we shipped to a huge area, from as far north as Hokkaido, to as far south as Osaka. But now we can’t do that. First, as I said, the fish aren’t back to the levels of before. And also there aren’t enough boats. There aren’t enough people to shuck the oysters either. And people out of Tohoku are still very cautious about buying things from here. So now we serve the Tohoku and Kansai areas only. We are one of the only companies up and running, but even so, business is still only 25% of what it was before the disaster.

 

(As you can see, Mr. Kikuchi’s factory stands alone. There used to be many houses and factories surrounding it. Now there are only empty lots full of weeds.)

“I realize things may never get back to where they were before. And I feel a tremendous obligation to my family and workers. So my wife and I came up with the idea of asking a friend in the wholesale vegetable business if we could work together. Lucky for us, he agreed. So now I am learning a whole new type of business. One of the vegetables we deal in is edamame. We boil them up and package them in the teeny kitchen we now have. Then we send them out. They are really big in the Sendai area, one of the traditional foods there, so we sell down there. Business is not booming, but it is a start.

“When this vegetable business gets more solid, I am thinking of moving into solar energy. We’re putting it into the new house we are building, so we will be less dependent on the government for our electricity. There wasn’t any electricity for weeks after the disaster and we don’t want to be in that position again. And if we produce an excess, we can always sell it for a bit more income.

“Down the line, I’m thinking of meat. It’s illegal to have fish and meat in the same plant, so I’ll have to build a new place. And I’ll have to learn a lot, too. I am sure the rules and regulations are very different for meat than for seafood. But my wife and I will research and learn. We are constantly growing, and we won’t stop.

“We love Ishinomaki. This place is in our bones. So we can’t let our home turf down. We have to make a future, not only for us, but for this community as well. Luck has been with us from the beginning. And I trust it will continue. It is all about attitude. I focus very intently on making each day be positive. I plan. I work hard. But I also know I have been blessed with very good luck every step of the way.”

Love,

Anne

 

 

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