Something personal

I'm a bit fried tonight.  I'm not exactly sure why but I'm beat.  Maybe it's the sleeping-on-concrete that's getting to me.  I'm not quite sure.

All this to say, I honestly don't have a story for you tonight from people I've spoken to recently but I do have a story from me.  It's not earth-shattering news or anything except to say I'm giving you a heads up. 

Tomorrow is my two week mark.  I've found I have a pattern in my moods and my tolerance for holding things in.  I have four days where I'm fine and then I follow that with a meltdown day.  Today is day four.  I'm scheduled for a meltdown tomorrow.

I've felt it coming on all day.  I've fought back tears multiple times and have been okay not breaking down in public.  I'm not sure I can do that tomorrow.  My heads up is essentially to say I probably won't be writing much tomorrow--I'll need another night where I walk around and cry--or I'll unload onto all of you in a way I can't predict quite yet.

I do have a story.  It's one of those moments I had to hold back and not breakdown.  There are three women from the community we've spoken to over the past several days who have offered to help with the cooking.  We will have 20 people staying in one of the new bases (which I'll move into tomorrow) and we need someone to help cook dinner.  This is meant to be a paid part-time position but these women said they would be willing to volunteer their time.  Their exact words were "we're volunteering so you can volunteer."  Hold back sob, hold back sob, hold back sob.

Then one of the women asks how we're going to bathe.  We say we aren't sure yet (buckets, probably?) as there's no shower facility in the building or hot water.  One of the women says she could offer her bath for us five nights a week.  I almost lose it.  Dirty, smelly volunteers, many of whom are foreign, walking in and out of a stranger's home five nights a week (in shifts, of course)?  This is quite an offer.  People are good.  I'm reminded of that everyday.

Everywhere I look....

This is what I see everyday.  Note the boat.  This is over half a mile inland.  It just breaks my heart.  I didn't let anyone see me take this photo.  I meant what I said when I wrote I won't capitalize on their pain.

Volunteers galore

We went to a shelter today to make a spaghetti meal for those who live there.  We made sure to get strawberries and ice cream (what little ice cream we could find in the stores).  It was beautiful standing inside the kitchen and watching people scarf down pasta, salad and a dessert.  Slicing ten pounds of onions was a pain but it was well worth it.  Side note here......I was hoping the onions would make me cry and then I could bawl my eyes out and blame it on the onions......nothing.  I think this is the absolute first time in my life I've sliced into an onion without shedding a tear.  It's not a "Japanese onion" thing either as two nights ago I managed to get a good cry in when slicing the same type of onion bought at the same store.  Go figure.

There are families in this shelter with kids.  I've seen young women volunteering here for the past several days (all volunteers have a duct tape sticker on their arm) and I saw them today and yesterday running around with the children.  People are pitching in all over.  High school students whose schools were damaged do whatever they can.  A young Japanese man who was living in Canada came back here (he's from here) the day after the earthquake and also volunteers with City Hall as well as All Hands.  There's just no hesitation whatsoever.  People are helping.  Everywhere.  That we can cook a meal for them every now and then is a no brainer.  That I didn't cry at all after cutting up 10 pounds of onions?  Serious "brainer".......sorry.  Couldn't resist.  I have to make these little jokes here and there.  There's not a lot of laughter around these days, for obvious reasons.

Devastation first hand

If you know me you know I am not a woman of few words.  If you know me well you know I like to talk.  I have opinions and am not shy about sharing them.  This is important why?  I'm glad you asked.  I took the bus up north and was met by the leader of the volunteer group at the train station/bus stop.  He drove us through Rikuzentakata to get to Ohfunato where the base is. 

I am officially at a loss for words.  I first started seeing the debris up the river 9 miles away from the coast along the riverbeds.  The closer we got into town, the more we saw. 

I've never seen anything like this.  The whole downtown area near the ocean was flattened.  There were gouge marks on the side of one of the few remaining buildings where the water carried the debris 20+ feet high. 

Cars, buses, trucks, large equipment and such were tossed around, upside down, dented and destroyed.  Few buildings remain standing and those that are were hollowed out by the water.  I could see right through them through the curtains that some how stayed behind and were flapping in the wind.  Teddy bears, twisted metal beams, roof tiles, trees, telephone poles, clothing, bicycles and stop lights, you name it, it was strewn all over. 

I have nothing to compare it to other than a quiet hell. 

Then there were the crews.  Men were out shoveling dirt off the side walks that had been cleared by earlier cleaning crews.  The sidewalks had then been swept.  Except for the destroyed buildings on both sides of the street you'd never known just a day ago massive amounts of junk cluttered those same sidewalks.

Things that were washed out from inside buildings had already been sorted.  Appliances were in one area, books in another, wooden beams somewhere else, tatami mats stacked up neatly and placed on the sidewalks.  There is so much order here.  Seeing the devastation is one thing, seeing the patience and care by which this clean up process has already begun is yet another experience altogether.

I guess I'm find words after all.  I will keep sharing my thoughts, observations and feelings. 

A different kind of culture shock

In many ways, Tokyo is home.  This is where I am most comfortable.  Here, I am happy.  I know the rules.  The city recharges my battery.  I love the crowds, trains, and the constant buzz the city offers.  I walked around today and did last minute errands with my colleague as we prepare to head north tonight to Ohfunato.  We will be riding the overnight bus for 10 hours.  The scenery tomorrow will be entirely different than what I see today.  I have no way to prepare to this other than to conjure up the photos I've seen from someone's camera lens.

Seeing the destruction in Ohfunato first-hand will be an entirely different kind of culture shock.  This is a Japan I've never seen.  This is pain, en masse, as I've never experienced it.  Even the disaster relief workers who are there now, those who have seen devastation all over the world are shocked at what they have encountered.  Knowing this, it reinforces the fact I simply can't prepare for what I will see tomorrow.

My Grandmother loved the Serenity Prayer.  This is what I take with me.  Some days I need courage over wisdom, other days I need serenity over courage and at yet other days wisdom over serenity.  For the next two months I will need all three at all times.  Knowing this, I'm humbled all over again.