Random Memories #70 - the last weeks in Japan - part 2

Seiyu supermarket with shelves picked clean in the wake of the March 11, 2011 quake.

This is part 2 of short series on my final weeks in Japan. Part 1 is here.

As I mentioned in my previous post, as my husband and I headed for the wire on our planned departure - a date which was chosen three years ahead of time - there were some late complications in the form of the discovery of a tumor in my neck. There was, however, an even bigger event which threatened to upset the apple cart on our time line and that was the March 11, 2011 earthquake.

Though very few people knew well ahead of time that we were leaving (for reasons I mentioned before), our families had been told of our plans. When the big quake occurred and the subsequent nuclear crisis in Fukushima, family members were encouraging us to leave a year ahead of our planned time. The thinking was, since we were planning to go anyway, why risk remaining? 

The temptation to join the flocks of what people were waggishly refering to as "flyjin" ("gaijin"/foreigners who were flying away in the wake of the disasters) was present, but neither my husband nor I were really "ready" to leave on multiple levels. Dropping everything and running was possible, but we were neither physically nor emotionally ready to leave. Ironically, remaining for that extra year boosted our economic gains prior to leaving since I got an additional part-time job rather easily with all of the Western chickens flying the coop. We saved more money than expected in that final year.

At any rate, both of us lived in the crisis with the thought in the back of our minds that it would have been "nice" if all of this could have waited until after March 2012 instead of happening a year before we left. The truth is that we were glad to have toughed it out, but would rather have been spared. There remains a sense of living through a shared experience with the other inhabitants who endured the quake, but I'm not sure if it has enhanced my life in appreciable ways. Mainly, it's about a sense of solidarity with people who were also there. 

When I say "tough it out", I'm not only referring to the shortages in food, water, and, oddly, toilet paper or managing the jishin yoi (earthquake sickness) and the moments of panic at the multitudes of aftershocks. It was also being surrounded by people who were more scared than we were. The emotional impact of being surrounded by panicky people who had to be talked down all of the time was also stressful. I spent more energy calming my students' fears than my own and it wasn't alwasy trivial keeping a lid on my own nagging concerns about drinking potentially radioactive water or breathing in winds blowing from Fukushima's nuclear zone. 

Knowing we were going to leave anyway made the entire experience that much more complex. We were the least settled we'd ever been and the "stay or go" question was a very serious one and our quality of life, at least in the moment, was not especially good. What was worse was that we couldn't talk about this quandry with anyone except our families since our planned departure was essentially a secret up until the last moment. And our families, who had our best interests at heart and were concerned for our health and well-being, were, in the most subtle of ways, pushing us in the direction of leaving. 

In the end, we decided within a week of the Fukushima crisis to definitively remain for another year. Making the decision and pushing early departure off the table made everything easier as we did not have to occupy a state of emotional limbo. After a brief period of indecision, in which even Japanese people were trying to escape their own country, we decided to stay on schedule for our March 2012 departure.

(to be continued)

Won't Miss #429 - cell phone earthquake alarms

There was a psychology study done on a boy dubbed "little Albert" in which a loud noise was played each time he was shown a white rat. After awhile, he started to turn away and scream when he saw the rat. Later, he generalized his fear of the rat (which was generated by the loud noise) to all white things. If I had remained in Japan long enough, there is a good chance that I'd have my own "little Albert" experience and develop a fear of all phones considering the association of cell phone alarms indicating that a quake is coming and a particular tone. You're peacefully sitting on a train commuting to work and suddenly a symphony of cell phones goes off and everyone reaches into their pocket like a gun slinger doing his fastest draw in a duel. It not only scares the hell out of me because it's so sudden and all around, but because there's an association with the many aftershocks in the year that followed the March 11, 2011 Tohoku quake.

I won't miss hearing these earthquake cell phone alarms.

Won't Miss #349 - jishin yoi (earthquake sickness)

Though I grew up in western Pennsylvania, where there are no earthquakes, I did experience the earth shuddering on a regular basis. My family lived near coal and strip mining operations. The use of explosives a safe, but palpable, distance away commonly shook our house. Also, we lived a very short distance from a dirt road that huge trucks roared down, causing objects in the living room to rattle on their end tables. Despite my experience with this type of thing, it does not compare to earthquakes because of the unpredictability of the intensity and duration. After a strong quake, people can experience what the Japanese call "jishin (earthquake) yoi (drunkenness)." This is when you think the room is moving but it is not. After the March 11, 2011 quake, reportedly 75% of people suffered from it. I personally felt it for weeks afterward.

I won't miss feeling like the room is moving even when it's not.

Won't Miss #330 - having to wear pajamas

I'm going to confess that I preferred to sleep in the buff back home. I'm not some free-thinking anarchist or a hippy. I just prefer not to have to have clothes bunched up under me, tangled or giving me a wedgie when I sleep. It's simply easier to wear nothing, especially when it's hot or warm during the 5 months of summer or 2 months of rainy season in Tokyo. During the other 4 months of coldness, nothing is warmer than two nekkid bodies under a blanket. If you don't believe me, try it for yourself. Anyway, in Tokyo (and many other areas), it is monumentally imprudent to sleep au naturale because of quakes. You never know when the unlikely becomes reality and you'll have to make a mad dash for the street or have to climb out the window of the shaky remains of your dwelling.

I won't missing having to wear clothes to bed "just in case" there's a big earthquake.

Won't Miss #323 - talk of "the big one"

A cafe window in Tokyo which was cracked in the Great Tohoku Earthquake. The word spelled in tape is "danger".

People seem obsessed with talking about a huge earthquake leveling Tokyo like the great Kanto earthquake of 1923. You'd think that such talk might settle down in the face of the Tohoku earthquake on March 11, 2011, but that doesn't satisfy the need for people to see Tokyo shaken apart. Shortly after the big Tohoku quake, I was reading articles about how there was an 87% chance of Tokyo getting one in the next 30 years.  I will grant that another big earthquake is possible, maybe even probable, as Japan is on the Ring of Fire. The thing I'm not willing to accept is that the next "big one" can be predicted or is "overdue". It's not like earthquakes operate on a schedule and "the big one" is looking at its watch saying, "well, I can't put off leveling Tokyo any longer so I'd better stop procrastinating and get to it." If the big one hits 500 years from now, I'm sure people will be saying, "well, we knew it was going to happen again soon!"

I won't miss the obsession people have with talking about the imminent annihilation of Tokyo.

Won't Miss #236 - pedestrian overpasses

 A typical overpass, one of hundreds, on Ome Kaido Avenue.

I live near a large major street which is the fastest way for emergency vehicles to reach destinations between my home and other major mini-cities inside of Tokyo. Without access to this street, it is virtually impossible for emergency vehicles to get where they need to go. This long and important street is peppered liberally across its entire length with old pedestrian overpasses. They are there because putting up too many traffic lights and crosswalks would slow the speed of vehicles along this particular street. In an earthquake-prone country, this is incredibly bad planning. If there were a major earthquake, these overpasses would crumble and completely block the ability of ambulances, fire trucks, or other emergency people to get around without maneuvering a maze of tiny side streets.

I won't miss these overpasses, and how I can't help but think what they might represent should I be in Tokyo during a big earthquake.

Won't Miss #76 - earthquakes

I realize there are earthquakes in many places around the world, but I haven't lived in any of those areas and am not accustomed to experiencing the world shake around me at such relatively frequent intervals. Japan is located on the "Pacific Ring of Fire" and therefore experiences more quakes than places like California. Since I have no plans on moving to another location on the Ring of Fire in the future, there's every chance my life after Japan will not include so many earthquakes.

I won't miss fearing for my life when the room starts to shake.