２０１１年６月吉日
私は、今まで自分はアメリカ人であると信じていました。兄と姉が帰国子女として大学に帰国後、苦労をした日本。「自分は、日本人離れしすぎているので、日本では通用しない人間だ。」と思う事が良くあります。が、震災後の自分の日本に対する愛情の強さと気持ちの暗さに、自分でも驚きました。「これからの日本 は、どうなってしまうのだろう。」と随時悩む様になりました。（以下、所々、「です。」や「ます。」を省略させていただきます。）
私は日本生まれですが、父の仕事の関係で、生後2ヶ月で渡米、その後アメリカに在住。厳しい両親の下での教育で、平日はアメリカの学校、土曜日は日本語学校、夏休み中は東京の学校に転入、と言う忙しい子供時代を過ごし、大学を卒業してからはアメリカで弁護士になりました。
震災後、3ヶ月の日々があっと言う間に過ぎ去りましたが、依然として原発の心配は消えず、五月下旬に日本に居る母と姉家族に会いに日本へ。心が引き締まる感じで、4年間仕事が忙しすぎて帰ってなかった故郷、日本を「訪問」。
まず、東京近辺で気がついたのが、節電の様子。駅の中、電車の中、公共施設はどこもかしこも電球が外され抜けている。いつもより暗いが、案外町並みは普通。フムフム。So far, so good.
母 は毎日、温泉に行く生活を続けている。いつも温泉に行く時はゴキゲン。お風呂に入る前は駅前の定食屋で美味しい焼き魚定食。楽しそうに父が 育った町を歩く母は、この旧風呂屋では顔なじみばかりで、裸のお付き合いが沢山。そして、翌朝は、母の家の近くの公園でラジオ体操。なつかしい思い出が沢 山溢れ出てくる。おじいちゃんとおばあちゃんが歩いた商店街。変わってなくて、良かった。一安心。
母は常時NHKをテレビにつけっぱなし。ラジオ体操からの帰りに焼きたての菓子パンを駅前のパン屋さんから買ってきて、それから仕事に行くまでパンを食べながらNHKと仕度。朝の15分ドラマなど、暮らしに歩調がある毎日。リズムが懐かしい。
NHKからいろんな情報を入手。東北の人は自主的に２６％の節電をしている。日本中が復興作業を応援。現地の人達の引越し作業、苦難、活動、そして天気予報、交通情報、等、色々。普段、アメリカではテレビを見ない自分は、ニュースに夢中。
駅前の寿司屋の店内には、目立つ所に大きな張り紙：「謹んで地震災害のお見舞い申し上げます。頑張れ東北！！当店は積極的に東北の美味しい食材を使 用いたします。」店の外は待つ人で混雑。いつもと変わらない忙しさ。母は、「毒になるものは、出してないでしょ。」とパクパク。一国心中とでも呼ぶのだろ うか、私はおいしく、いつも通りのお寿司を食べさせていただきました。それが愛情であると思ったからです。この先どんな事が起こるかわからな い、不安な将来。その時、今を大切に生きることを重視しようと心に誓った。
つけ麵ブームの東京を散策しながら仕事に励んだ一週間。東京駅や新宿駅で、ちょっと迷子になったあげく、落し物をしたりして、駅員さんのサービスの良さに関 心。どこに行っても、手伝ってくれたり案内してくれる人が沢山。普段の感覚では考えられない親切。でも、一日に２、３回ぐらい「人身事故」で、電車が東京 各地で運行停止。「経済不景気が続いているせいかしら。人身事故って、殆どが自殺なのよ。」と母がポロリ。
最後の週末、宮城県のボランティア･センター（ボラセン）とのボランティア斡旋作業をJTBが手伝う企画の第一回目に参加してきた。菅原さんとおっしゃる方が、企画担当者。私みたいなアメリカ帰りが、一人でボラセンとの連絡、交通機関、宿泊施設等の手配をしていたら、能率が悪い。ボラセンとしては、40人単位でボランティアをリクエストする事ができる、と言う素晴らしい企画だ。週末は、宮城県のボラセンの指示により、私達は、東松島市へ行く事になった。
5月27日金曜日午後１１時に東京駅近くのバス停留所でバスに搭乗。隣の座席には小島さんとおっしゃる二人の男児のお母さん。二日間、小島さんの視点から観た日本の様子を色々聞く事ができた。小島さんと色々話す事が出来た事、神様に感謝。
土曜日の朝早く東松島市の臨時ボラセンで集合。当日は1000人もの方々が東松島市でボランティアされたとの事。被災地となった市町村の数を考えると、すごい人数。日本の復興活動は、力強い。私のバスは、４０人乗りのバスであったが、満席。全国各地から、このバスに乗る為に一日がかりで東京まで出て来た方が沢山。
まずは小岩さんという方の自宅へ行くよう指示をうけた。170セ ンチ以上の津波が押しかけ、１階が台無しになった後、ヘドロまみれになっている庭から、ヘドロを撤去するのがボランティアの仕事。小岩さんは、津波が押し かけてきた日の話しをしてくれた。「車を捨てて、逃げたよ。家族とは、２、３日連絡が取れなかった。」と。その後、もうちょっと内陸だけれど、広い庭に浅 めの津波が押しかけた家へ。半日かかって、深さ４０ｃｍぐらいのヘドロを５００袋ほど詰めて仕事は終了。その夜は、仙台の駅前（牛タンでなく、つけ麵を試食しました）で一時間半の自由時間の後、宮城県の秋保温泉へ一路。ちょっと古めのホテルの旧館を、ボランティアが４人づつ相部屋。食事は含まれてなかった が、温泉には入れた。が、地震の為、ホテルの湯量に変化があり、温泉の源泉は一時的に使用不可。風呂場は沸かし湯だったが、桶に養分がついているのであろ うか、湯加減は非常に良かった。泥んこになって泥掃除を一日したのであちこち筋肉痛だったが、日本のお風呂は、疲れがよく取れる。
日曜日のボラセン活動は、あいにく雨天中止。雨にセシウムが含まれていて、健康に悪い。急遽菅原さんはコースを変え、朝はまず南三陸町の復興市へと向かった。一路、バスは南三陸町の中の、津波の最上水位のちょっと上にあった志津川中学校へと向かった。南三陸町は、CNNで も何回か風景を見たことがあった町で、テレビに映っていた通りの惨状が残っていた。車や船がゴロゴロと転がっていて、人家は骨格も残っていない土台だけ。 所どころ、生き残った５回建てぐらいの鉄筋コンクリ構造の建物の天辺には、のりあがった車があったり。幻想の世界の中のような風景ばかり。足元に落ちてい たプーさん人形の持ち主は大丈夫だったのだろうか、など、頭の中は色々な思いが、駆け巡る。でも、津波のあまりのすさまじさに圧倒され、頭の中の半分ぐら いは、空っぽだった。
志津川中学校の敷地内は、あいにくの雨で泥んこ。泥んこの中を沢山の人が行きかわっていた。焼きそば、たこ焼き、魚市場、バスの中のモバイル・コンビ二、せんべいラーメン、T-シャ ツ、おみやげ、ガラクタ、等、ありとあらゆる店が並んでいた。誰もが元気そうで、太鼓の演奏を中心に、伊達政宗とオニギリを足して二つに割ったような仙台 と宮城県のマスコットの「むすび丸」さんもいた。南三陸町を応援しにきた沢山の人の数とエネルギーに、感動した。どのテントもおなじみの「いらっしゃ い！」で掛け声、客を呼び込む。大騒ぎで、楽しかった。
復 興市の後、バスは観光地として有名な松島へ直行。そこまでの道のりは、両側破壊された町並みがしばらく続いたが、松島自体は湾内にある為、膝の高さぐらい の津波が押し寄せたが、大きい津波の災害からは免れた。伊達政宗の瑞巌寺（すいがんじ）で沢山お祈りをしてから、その後またバスで一路東京駅へ。クタクタ になって梅が丘へ戻ったら、起きてきてくれた母が、腎臓結石で翌朝病院に行かなければいけない、と。翌朝、母と病院へ直行。「お父さんとお母さんが病気に なったら、ここに入院するから、場所を知っておいて欲しい。」と母は言う。色々忙しくしているうちに、成田空港へ向かう時間になってしまい、おじいちゃん とおばあちゃんの墓参りもできないまま、アメリカに帰国。
１０年前、９・１１の後、当時住んでいたニューヨークから大学の町バークレーに戻ってきてから、きままな生活をここ10年ほどしてきた私。今回の帰国を期に、今まで想像していなかった将来が待っている事に、今、気がつき始めている。
[The below is a re-write in English. I used the above as the first draft.]
1. SPICY AND I
For a time now, I've thought of myself as an American. After returning to Japan as a "kikoku-shijo (directly translated as 'returning children')," some of my best friends were discriminated by other Japanese people. We are the "odd balls" that look Japanese but don't conform, and to make things worse, we speak English fluently.
The Japanese have a saying: "The Nail That Sticks Out Gets Hit." Commonly referred to as "IJIME (bullying)," this mentality to persecute those who are different is a huge problem amongst Japanese children. But this pattern of persecuting those with slight differences is not a problem that is specific to Japan. Unfortunately, this seems to be a common behavior in many animal species (think Spicy the chicken). We always try to exclude (at least in the beginning), even when we're chickens.
I was born in Japan, but was brought to California when I was two months' old. Mathematically, I am 100% made in Japan, and 95.886% raised in America. Because of this weird split in my heritage, Japanese people are sometimes fascinated by me. Because I speak Japanese fluently, they can't tell that I'm not really Japanese right away - but they can tell fairly quickly. For example, I sometimes speak as an equal to Japanese men who are my father's age, and sometimes this upsets people, and I don't care. At the Japanese Community Center in San Francisco, I'd recently taken to introducing myself as follows, so that people could understand me better: "I am here to support you, but I am here as an American."
2. THE RHYTHMS OF TOKYO
I visited Japan in May 2011. Three months had passed since the Earthquake. Emotionally, the news has been hard to swallow, as it affects my family directly. (I stopped reading the news re: nuclear meltdowns when they had the melt through.) For my own sanity, I needed to see my sister and her kids, and to know that they were OK. Also, I'd been busy for the last four years. It was a long time to stay away.
Once in Tokyo, I first noticed there were bulbs missing from every other light fixture. Train stations, public facilities, commercial districts and some private residences were all darker than usual, but otherwise the scenery was surprisingly normal. "So far, so good,"I said to myself.
MOM AND THE BATH HOUSE COMMUNITY
My mother goes to an "onsen (hot spring)" spa everyday. It's several stops away by train from her house. Attractions include an "electric" tub (the water lightly electrocutes you with intermittent pulses - my mom loves it - she says it's like getting an all body acupuncture), as well as a wet / dry sauna, a cold room, cold bath, and massage chairs. Mom is always in a good mood when going to the onsen. Beforehand, she likes to eat at her favorite Japanese Diner next to the train stop. (When I tagged-along, I ordered the "broiled mackerel set dinner with natto and jakko-oroshi." Yum!) She then strolls down a crowded commercial area to the bathhouse, about 1/3 of a mile down main street. She's been coming here since she was 16 years old, when she started dating Dad, because Dad had grown up in this neighborhood. At the bathhouse, Mom has many friends; there's a lot of naked socializing, and a constant, casual banter. No one talks about politics, though no one can ignore the big screen TV above the Women's bath area featuring NHK (Japan's BBC) 24/7.
Like my mother, many of the other women at the bathhouse come every day. The County gives six free vouchers to every person over the age of 62. Using those six vouchers, anyone can get in for free, so I went in for free several times. Otherwise, it's about $8 per entry (650 yen). This bathhouse is a true community, and it is a very important part of my mother's spiritual sustenance. To the bathhouse and the County that supports this facility, I give my deepest gratitude.
RADIO TAISO
My Mom and I attend the "Radio Taiso (the radio-guided Japanese national exercise)" at 6:30 in the morning, at a park nearby. They have these morning gatherings at parks all over Japan. It's mostly a bunch of old people there exercising at 6:30 a.m., but it keeps them vibrant. Fond memories percolate from walking through town. I used to come here with Grandma and Grandpa. There is a picture of my brother playing on a monkey bar at this park, when he was five years old. It was my mom's favorite picture of him for a long time. Mom's hometown, more than any other place, has been my hometown, partly because I'd moved around so much in America. The place that my mother's soul resides seemed to be where I had left mine, because I was created from a fragment of her soul, like Eve was created from Adam's rib. I took a sigh of relief, because things almost felt normal. But then, there was the radiation.
NHK & SAVORY BREADS
Mom watches NHK religiously. After the morning exercise, Mom and I usually pick up fresh-baked pastries like "potato-cheese-dill rolls," "cheddar puff-balls," and "butter corn mayo croissant" from a local bakery. It's Just So Delicious. We go home, and then at 8:15 a.m., she watches the 15 minute morning-mini drama series, again on NHK. At 8:30 a.m. exactly, she rushes off to work. During this time, she is like a cruiser passing through a port. I anchor myself to the TV, and stay out of her way. In general, Mom's daily rhythm felt like a safe, calm ocean for me to rest in, while I prepared myself for the storm brewing outside.
I too watched NHK religiously while in Tokyo. From NHK, I learned that people in the Tohoku (the affected Northeast part of Japan, which includes Tokyo) had voluntarily cut down their power consumption by 26%. If true, it's an amazing feat. For example, Mom mostly opted to live in the dark (because she could), except that the TV was on most of the time. A lot of the news focused on Japan's reconstruction efforts. It was fascinating, and it was like free therapy. "It's not that bad." was the consensus on NHK. One is asked to bend reality, just a little bit.
SUSHI
There is an extremely popular sushi restaurant in front of the local train station. My Mom always takes me there when I visit, usually on the first evening I'm there. It's tradition. When I ascended the narrow staircase, a large poster prominently displayed the following message: "We respectfully sympathize with the victims of the earthquake disaster. Ganbare Tohoku! (Translation is something like: Good Luck Northeasterners!!) [We] will aggressively use delicious ingredients from the Tohoku ("Northeast") area." (This was in reaction to a media-campaign to discourage a secondary economic meltdown to the Tohoku area's farming industry. The Tohoku is home to Japan's rice industry. The mascot for the area features a rice ball head with a samurai outfit, Musubimaru.)
The restaurant was, as usual, crowded inside and out. There was a line of people waiting to get in. Once we were seated and served, my mother said, "They wouldn't serve poisonous food!" and started eating. I didn't share her opinion, but I ate the food anyways, because I thought it was the right thing to do. And the feast was sumptuous, as usual. I also thought that from now on, I would focus on the quality of my present life, instead of focusing on the future so much. It might be better to live a shorter, fulfilling life, than a longer, conflict-filled one. There has been a lot of loss; it's a lot of attachments to relinquish all at once, especially when it involves 127.5 million people. Right now, Japan is like a widower who has lost his spouse suddenly. (As discussed before in this blog, we should know that Grief comes in five steps. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. These emotions are normal.)
There is a term called "shinju" in Japan. It is a word people use when a family, or any group, commits suicide together. Shinjus occur when misfortune befalls on people, and those people see no other way out. What is going on in Japan right now is like a "National Shinju." Baby boomers accept the fact that the radiation may give them cancer in 10-20 years. Some families with small children have already evacuated. Some U.S. universities had ordered all of their students to return to the U.S. immediately after the earthquake. But Tokyo boasts a population of 13 million, and another 22 million live within commuting distance. I'm hearing a lot of angry voices through the grape-vine, especially from University academics. A storm is brewing.
RAMEN
I spent a week working in Tokyo, while I tried out different ramen restaurants all over town. Ramen is extremely popular in Japan, and peoples' tastes evolve. The currently popular rendition of ramen is called "tsuke-men (translation: dipping noodle)." Purists want the noodles to be served separately from the broth, so that the texture of the noodles are preserved. You don't need to hurry when you eat tsuke-men ramen, because you don't have to worry about the noodles getting too soggy. (Like many, the Japanese are crazy about food.)
While working and eating in Tokyo, I got lost several times in the sprawling Tokyo and Shinjuku train stations. I was dumb-founded at the abundance of people available to guide my way. (I am accustomed to American style customer service.) Life seems easier, when people are more helpful. But two or three times a day, the train systems in Japan had temporary closures because of "personal injuries" on the tracks. "I wonder if it's due to the economic recession. They call it personal injury, but it's usually suicide." Mom quietly muttered.
3. VOLUNTEERING IN MIYAGI
The last weekend of May, I participated in Japan Travel Bureau's ("JTB") first "Miyagi volunteer bus pack," in which JTB teamed up with the Volunteer Center of Miyagi Prefecture ("Borasen") to coordinate the placement of volunteers visiting Miyagi prefecture. It was more efficient for the Borasen to work with travel agencies that could organize 40+ volunteers at a time. That weekend, at the direction of the Miyagi Borasen, our bus was assigned to visit Higashi-matsushima County.
At 11:00 pm on Friday May 27th, I boarded a bus at a parking lot near Tokyo station. Sitting next to me in the bus was a mom of two teenage boys, Mrs. Kojima. For two days, Mrs. Kojima and I talked about everything under the Sun. I give thanks, this time for this fortuitous seat assignment.
On Saturday morning, after spending the night on the bus, we disembarked at the Higashi-matsushima temporary Borasen. I was told that on that day, 1000 volunteers were in town. Given the many counties that needed volunteers, it's a huge number. Japan's reconstruction effort is powerful. On our bus, all 40 seats were occupied by volunteers, who each paid $187 (15,000 yen) to be on the bus. The cost covered the bus ride from and to Tokyo Station, two trip coordinators, two bus drivers, one night at the onsen hotel, and a special insurance for volunteers. In our bus, there were people from all over Japan (and one from the United States).
Our group was first asked to go to Mr. Koiwa's house. The tsunami was about six feet high when it flooded the first floor of their two-story house. Their yard was covered in toxic mud. Our job was to remove it. While we were there, Mr. Koiwa told us about the day of the tsunami. "I abandoned my car in order to escape the tsunami. It took 2, 3 days to find my family." he said.
Afterwards, we were assigned to another house which was located a little more inland. The mud in their yard was about a foot deep. 30 volunteers filled about 500 bags of mud, and we were done for the day. In the evening, we were given an hour-and-a-half to explore Sendai Train Station. (Though most people on the bus ate beef tongue BBQ, which Sendai is known for, I ate tsuke-men ramen for dinner.) Then our bus took us to an old onsen hotel near Sendai. Four volunteers were assigned to sleep in each room which was the size of eight tatami mats, and though a Japanese dinner (usually kaiseki at these hotels) was not included in the package, we were allowed to use the onsen facilities. The actual hot spring was under "repair" that day (it was reported that, since the quake, the flow from the hot spring had become intermittent). I had shoveled mud all day so I was sore all over, but the piping-hot Japanese bath washed away the mud and fatigue from me completely.
THE AFTERMATH OF THE TSUNAMI
We were rained out on Sunday, and could not work with the mud. Mr. Sugawara, our lead JTB trip coordinator, quickly changed the day's itinerary: we were to visit the "Reconstruction Fair" at Minami-sanriku. The bus took us to Shizugawa Middle School, which was located above the tsunami's water line. I had seen Minami-sanriku on CNN. When we got there, it looked just like it did on TV. Cars and ships were crumpled up like boulders, amongst the debris strewn all across the landscape. The only thing left of most buildings were the foundations. There were several steel and concrete structures that survived (though they all looked as if they were bombed out), and on top of one of the five-story buildings was a perfect-looking car, parked diagonally on a roof with no off ramp. It was a scene out of a movie. Thousands of thoughts ran through my mind. But because I finally understood the power and brutality of nature, I was speechless for a time.
We had to ascend a long staircase (from the bottom of the canyon) to get to the middle school on top of the hill. The Reconstruction Fair was a muddy affair, but hundreds of people were gathered in the rain to support Minami-sanriku. The rain contained cesium. At the fair, there were many booths featuring: yakisoba, takoyaki, a fish mart, a mobile convenience store in a bus, rice cracker ramen, t-shirts, good luck charms, junk, etc. etc. When I was there, there was a taiko performance in the center of all of it. Someone had planted pansy flowers in the ground. Miyagi's mascot Musubimaru was there. Every tent had several people inviting you in for a visit, as if we were at an omatsuri / festival. I had found love again, in Minami-sanriku. It spilled over the edges of my cup, and overflowed. And with that love, I knew Japan would be OK. My friend Yuki had been telling me: "Japan has survived 2000 years of history, and it will survive again." I finally knew what she meant.
PINE ISLAND (MATSUSHIMA)
After the Fair, our bus took us to Matsushima (let's call it "Pine Island"). (Pine Island is considered one of the three best views in Japan. Matsushima Bay boasts beautiful pine tree-lined islands inside of it, one of which is connected to the main land with just a long, red, foot bridge.) The road from Minami-sanriku to Pine Island was about 40 miles of destruction and abandonment on either side of the road. But Pine Island (which is not an Island) itself was spared the same destruction because it is inside a bay, shielded by islands. While the small villages on the outside islands were destroyed completely, Pine Island was visited by a mini-tsunami two feet high. I spent most of my free time in Pine Island visiting and offering prayers at Zuiganji Temple. I was told that the tsunami miraculously stopped at its gates. Residents from 1000 years ago had foretold of a safe area that would be protected, and Zuiganji had been built there. Afterwards, we boarded the bus again, which was followed by an eight hour bus ride back to Tokyo Station.
GOING INTO OVERDRIVE
Around midnight on Sunday, I got back to Mom's house, exhausted. Mom got out of bed to tell me that she was diagnosed with kidney stones and that she would need to go back to the hospital the next morning for more tests. The next morning, we woke up and went to the hospital, and Mom said: "Your Dad and I come here when we get sick, so I wanted you to know where this hospital is."
It became time to go to Narita Aiport, so I left my Mom at the hospital (regretfully), and flew back to the U.S. I didn't even have time to visit my Grandparents' grave, which was just ten minutes away from Mom's house.
