"Your husband is a brave man."

Last night I was invited to the city council official's home for a cookout.  I was the token gaijin (foreigner) invited because I can represent the volunteer group here in Ofunato and Rikuzentakata and because I speak Japanese.  People kept coming and going all evening and between the food and liquor, everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves in true Japanese style.  I was asked questions about the group, my life back home, my company and family.  When I pulled out my phone and showed photos of my husband and son, people gathered around practically gawking.  Then the questions started.

"How does your husband feel about you being here?"
"Your son has long hair!"
Young women asked if my son was seeing anyone saying, "he's so handsome!"  I smiled and said I'm proud to be his mother.

The questions inevitably reverted back to my husband's comfort level with "letting you go" and in general, his comfort level knowing I was away for such a long time and in a volatile earthquake/tsunami/nuclear zone.  I said things like "he's very supportive" and "he's used to me being away" and "he's a good man" and "I'm really lucky" and yet the questions didn't stop.  The general consensus seemed to be a lack of understanding of how a man would let his wife "disappear" for such a long time especially into a potentially dangerous area.  Finally, one man, slightly drunk blurted out "how does he really feel about you being here?  I'd never let my wife do that."  I paused.  I have to answer appropriately.  At the risk of stating a gross generalization there's a significant amount of truth to the fact Japanese men would not let their wives take off for two months into an area that has known dangers.  I had to give my husband credit without making him sound like a demigod. 

"He's a good man," I said.  "He said he would let me go to Japan on one condition.  I had to go home."  With no breaks or pauses, everyone around the table started to talk at once.

"I thought so."
"I knew it."
"That makes sense."
"He put his foot down."
"Of course he'd say 'you have to come home'."

After this collective talking-over-each-other had died down, one man with a beer in his hand piped up and said what seemed to be on everyone's mind. "Your husband is a brave man." 

"Yes, he is," I said.  "I'm lucky to have such a man for a husband."  People nodded, sipped their drinks and we moved on to the next subject content to know I have the proper appreciation for my husband.

The power of people

I have the feeling "power to the people" and possibly even "power of the people" is copyrighted so I'm so I'm going with "the power of people." To be more specific, I'm referring to numbers. To be more specific, I'm talking about the number of volunteers. In the past two days, there has been a huge spike in the number of people who are here working. To be precise, there are 70 people here.

Seventy people can do a lot. During the past two days, there have been five teams working all around Ofunato and Rikuzentakata. The teams range from four to twenty people. The largest team is working on one of the campuses of Rikuzentakata High School where there are multiple buildings that needed to be cleaned out. One of the two gyms with a floor covered in an inch and a half of mud and then debris was almost completely cleaned out today. That's good stuff!

Other teams are cleaning out an old traditional inn, a home with a large antique-style vault (a kura), an apartment complex and individual homes that need mucking and gutting. A lot of work, good work at that, is being done. There is absolutely power in numbers and power in how much a large number of people can do.

Tomorrow I'm going to walk around town and pictures of things I want to share with you. It will be another posting but of a different nature. Key word being "nature."

How's that for a teaser line?