To be quite honest, I'm not completely sure whether I would call the Japanese way of living eco-friendly. Sure, people often argue that "mottainai" sales are a way of recycling, but combine that with the fact that Japan combusts a large percentage of its garbage and offers few places for people to recycle clothes, and you've got a bit of a dilemma.
Moving on...
People tend to react to things that affect them or their immediate lives — this is one of the reasons why the movement to be friendly to the environment has only caught on in certain regions of the world. While individuals may care about others, past examples have shown us that few people will go out of their way, will inconvenience their lives, merely to assist a complete stranger — less so if said individual is on the other side of the globe. This idea is especially prominent in the Japanese sphere, where we need only to look at the principles of 外 and 内.
In the same vein, Japanese people are more willing to adhere to the government-set 節電 principles because they feel for their countrymen and do not want their fellow Japanese to be energy-less throughout the entire summer. This year has been a year of many natural disasters, but not once have we seen the Japanese government (and the people, accordingly) honestly attempt to conserve energy the way they are doing now — never mind the fact that many scientists are attributing this sudden spike in natural disasters to global warming, which everyone in the world will be affected by someday. Cool Biz, for example, is something that has been around for a few years now, but people did not really start acknowledging it until after the disaster.
Preserving the environment is incredibly important to me, but selfishly enough, I also like the status quo of my own life. While shutting down the AC on the trains from 12-3 p.m. is not exactly a desirable action during a mushimushi summer, I think that it is good that the Japanese people are finally learning how much energy they waste by leaving the giant screens at ALTA and Shibuya on night and day, by having more than one 24-hour conbini on each block. Setsuden, thus, means very little to me, because it is something that Japan should have started years ago — but better late than never, right?
I suppose my biggest gripe with the entire thing is how commercialised it's becoming. You can buy a smartphone app or purchase toys that are marketed as eco-friendly. How does buying something new actually help conserve resources?
21 June 2011
20 June 2011
The worst time to be lost in translation
My story comes firsthand from a friend who was trapped in Sendai when the earthquake and tsunami hit. She had just landed in Japan as a newly arrived JET programme participant and was excited to teach English in Japan for the first time. Her plane landed at the Sendai airport only an hour or so before the quake, and in a stroke of good luck, she somehow managed to take the train in the opposite direction of where she was supposed to go, and ended up heading much further inland than she needed to be.
Caught without a phone and unable to speak a word of Japanese — she was newly arrived, after all — she had absolutely no idea what to do. The day after the quake, I received a call from her worried parents — I hadn't even known she was supposed to fly in the day before — asking me whether I could try contacting her. I couldn't. Hours passed that felt like days, and days passed that felt like weeks. She had no access to a phone and clearly hadn't had time to register with the embassy or her local city ward office, so all we could do was wait. And wait we did. I posted messages on all of the messageboards I could find, put up an alert via Twitter and asked friends who were going up to the affected area to ask about a lost foreigner.
Four days later, right before my flight was scheduled to depart from Haneda, I received news from an anonymous person on the Person Finder. My friend was alive and had barely managed to escape being caught in the epicentre of the quake. Having heard all of the stories about the people who were scamming others and seeking to profit off their misery, I was sceptical at first, but the anonymous poster offered to set up a Skype meeting with her to prove it to me. I don't think I've ever felt more relieved in my life.
Her parents, of course, were relieved, but it was one of the most harrowing experiences I think they've ever been through — and for me too. While a lot of foreigners were going about their daily lives here in Tokyo, I was burdened with worrying about a girl who was only kilometres away from where the quake impacted most.
I don't know whether she ever will be able to get back to her normal life. She was scheduled to start teaching in Ishinomaki in April, but returned home at the bequest of her parents. The last time I talked to her, she said she doesn't know whether she will be able to return to Japan because all she can remember is being a newly arrived tourist being yelled at in confusing Japanese.
Perhaps not the most traumatic story of all, but one that impacted me personally.
Caught without a phone and unable to speak a word of Japanese — she was newly arrived, after all — she had absolutely no idea what to do. The day after the quake, I received a call from her worried parents — I hadn't even known she was supposed to fly in the day before — asking me whether I could try contacting her. I couldn't. Hours passed that felt like days, and days passed that felt like weeks. She had no access to a phone and clearly hadn't had time to register with the embassy or her local city ward office, so all we could do was wait. And wait we did. I posted messages on all of the messageboards I could find, put up an alert via Twitter and asked friends who were going up to the affected area to ask about a lost foreigner.
Four days later, right before my flight was scheduled to depart from Haneda, I received news from an anonymous person on the Person Finder. My friend was alive and had barely managed to escape being caught in the epicentre of the quake. Having heard all of the stories about the people who were scamming others and seeking to profit off their misery, I was sceptical at first, but the anonymous poster offered to set up a Skype meeting with her to prove it to me. I don't think I've ever felt more relieved in my life.
Her parents, of course, were relieved, but it was one of the most harrowing experiences I think they've ever been through — and for me too. While a lot of foreigners were going about their daily lives here in Tokyo, I was burdened with worrying about a girl who was only kilometres away from where the quake impacted most.
I don't know whether she ever will be able to get back to her normal life. She was scheduled to start teaching in Ishinomaki in April, but returned home at the bequest of her parents. The last time I talked to her, she said she doesn't know whether she will be able to return to Japan because all she can remember is being a newly arrived tourist being yelled at in confusing Japanese.
Perhaps not the most traumatic story of all, but one that impacted me personally.
19 June 2011
Disaster Preparation
Today's class about disaster preparedness got me thinking about Sophia University and its bureaucracy. I find it hard to believe that full-time professors have neither evacuation guides nor drill instructions that they can follow in case of an emergency. While I know that during class, many people made the point that it is the students' responsibility to know what they should do, I think that people are less likely to listen to one incredibly majime student than they are a professor with a loud voice and an inherent authority.
At the same time, after growing up in another earthquake-prone city thousands of miles away from here, I've also learned that it is incredibly easy to disregard emergency drills... or worse, an actual disaster. This is a trend that people in Miyagi have also been discussing as of late — the idea that we disregard warnings when we see absolutely no immediate personal danger. I think that if Sophia University were to start having emergency drills, people would ignore them out of the desire to maintain their studious, concentrated atmosphere and might not be able to move fast enough in the case of an actual disaster. The only way to get around this, however, is to take people by surprise.
Oh, and I definitely do not feel reassured about the fact that Building 2 is supposed to be a backup evacuation centre — those cracks in the wall made me wonder about just how stable the building truly is, and why the school has not invested the money to fix — and perhaps even reinforce — the structure.
Lastly, I think that the school should begin implementing randomly scheduled earthquake drills just to get people in the habit of knowing where to go. Sure, there is the possibility that the drills could become too frequent and the school would have a "boy who cried wolf" scenario on their hands, I think that it would be better than nothing. Even as a regular degree student, I would have had no idea where to go — those emergency maps are not as common as people make them out to be.
Overall though, it was a thoroughly informative and entertaining class.
At the same time, after growing up in another earthquake-prone city thousands of miles away from here, I've also learned that it is incredibly easy to disregard emergency drills... or worse, an actual disaster. This is a trend that people in Miyagi have also been discussing as of late — the idea that we disregard warnings when we see absolutely no immediate personal danger. I think that if Sophia University were to start having emergency drills, people would ignore them out of the desire to maintain their studious, concentrated atmosphere and might not be able to move fast enough in the case of an actual disaster. The only way to get around this, however, is to take people by surprise.
Oh, and I definitely do not feel reassured about the fact that Building 2 is supposed to be a backup evacuation centre — those cracks in the wall made me wonder about just how stable the building truly is, and why the school has not invested the money to fix — and perhaps even reinforce — the structure.
Lastly, I think that the school should begin implementing randomly scheduled earthquake drills just to get people in the habit of knowing where to go. Sure, there is the possibility that the drills could become too frequent and the school would have a "boy who cried wolf" scenario on their hands, I think that it would be better than nothing. Even as a regular degree student, I would have had no idea where to go — those emergency maps are not as common as people make them out to be.
Overall though, it was a thoroughly informative and entertaining class.
10 June 2011
And now for something a bit different... Russia.
According to the World Nuclear Association, Russia began researching the properties of radioactive materials in the early 20th century and commissioned and built the 5MWe Obninsk reactor — the first of its kind and the first to function as a power source — in 1954. These were followed by several more, until the country had 25 nuclear reactors powering the nation when the Chernobyl incident happened in 1986.
Although Russia currently has 32 nuclear reactors in commission, not everyone agrees with the idea of powering the country with a source of energy that caused an unspeakable, nearly immeasurable amount of damage almost three decades ago. Others argue that it is necessary to power a country of Russia's size and population. It's important to note that the country is currently attempting to curb its nuclear reliance by building hydroelectric plants in order to balance out the power sources.
Statistics provided by Europe's Energy Portal state that in 2009, the Russian Federation used 135 Terawatt-hours of nuclear energy, which places them fifth on the list of countries' nuclear consumption amounts. The amount of power Russia managed to generate in 2009 — roughly 149 Terawatt-hours — makes the country pretty much break even in terms of their energy production and consumption ratio.
An April article from The Telegraph summarises the opinions of both leading specialists and general non-involved parties about whether Russia has become too reliant on nuclear energy. In this article, we learn that Russia has a) devised and passed a plan to build 20 more nuclear reactors and somewhat paradoxically, also b) plans to cut down on its nuclear energy reliance within a couple of months. This idea is directly reflected in the fact that, when polled, nuclear power is the best alternative when compared to hydropower or gas. Along these same lines, the voters also maintained that the Russian Foundation should be focussing its efforts on improving the current condition of the reactors.
After researching a bit about Russia, I found it interesting that instead of calling for the shutdown of all the nuclear plants located throughout the country — despite the system's faults, members of the Russian Federation seem to have accepted the usefulness and convenience of nuclear energy and thus are not calling for the shutdown of plants that the nation relies on.
Although Russia currently has 32 nuclear reactors in commission, not everyone agrees with the idea of powering the country with a source of energy that caused an unspeakable, nearly immeasurable amount of damage almost three decades ago. Others argue that it is necessary to power a country of Russia's size and population. It's important to note that the country is currently attempting to curb its nuclear reliance by building hydroelectric plants in order to balance out the power sources.
Statistics provided by Europe's Energy Portal state that in 2009, the Russian Federation used 135 Terawatt-hours of nuclear energy, which places them fifth on the list of countries' nuclear consumption amounts. The amount of power Russia managed to generate in 2009 — roughly 149 Terawatt-hours — makes the country pretty much break even in terms of their energy production and consumption ratio.
An April article from The Telegraph summarises the opinions of both leading specialists and general non-involved parties about whether Russia has become too reliant on nuclear energy. In this article, we learn that Russia has a) devised and passed a plan to build 20 more nuclear reactors and somewhat paradoxically, also b) plans to cut down on its nuclear energy reliance within a couple of months. This idea is directly reflected in the fact that, when polled, nuclear power is the best alternative when compared to hydropower or gas. Along these same lines, the voters also maintained that the Russian Foundation should be focussing its efforts on improving the current condition of the reactors.
After researching a bit about Russia, I found it interesting that instead of calling for the shutdown of all the nuclear plants located throughout the country — despite the system's faults, members of the Russian Federation seem to have accepted the usefulness and convenience of nuclear energy and thus are not calling for the shutdown of plants that the nation relies on.
07 June 2011
The American image as perceived by Japan
US image in Japan up sharply after quake
The above article was written by Shaun Tandon on behalf of the Agence France-Presse, a well-known, nonprofit newswire agency, and was released to the public last Tuesday. Originally written in English, Tandon's article focusses on the results of a recent Pew poll that aimed to gauge whether the Japanese opinion of the United States rose or fell after the calamity that was 11 March. Citing statistics, Tandon notes that there has indeed been a large increase in the percentage of Japanese people who view America in a favourable light — 85 percent of those surveyed, to be exact. Tandon also notes other tangentially relevant statistics, such as the percentage of people who no longer believe nuclear power should be in Japan's future.
While most newspaper articles demonstrate a strong bias towards one political viewpoint or another, newswires tend to state the technical facts and provide little analysis about what said numbers allude to in the greater scheme of things. That said, however, it is clear that Tandon is clearly writing this article for an English-speaking, most likely American audience — the location provided before the story's lead notes it as having been written in Washington and thus the information he provides is somewhat tailored to be pleasing to the American ear — he mentions Operation Tomodachi and helpfully notes that the word means "friend", which demonstrates that this article is targeted towards people with little knowledge of the Japanese language. Furthermore, Tandon's statement that "More than half of Japanese" believe that America has helped Japan through this crisis is designed to reassure non-Japanese readers that Japan now views the United States in a much more favourable light — indicating that the "majority" supports the relief efforts is much stronger than saying "52 percent".
Even though newswires are supposed to be somewhat unbiased, it is clear that this article has a somewhat Western-centric point of view — rather than differentiating between the categories of individuals surveyed, Tandon (or perhaps the Pew researchers) groups high school students with women and does not elaborate about their ages or why the individuals felt the way they do, and it is thus arguable that Tandon does this for simplicity's sake, in order to allow people uneducated to understand the gravity of the situation.
The above article was written by Shaun Tandon on behalf of the Agence France-Presse, a well-known, nonprofit newswire agency, and was released to the public last Tuesday. Originally written in English, Tandon's article focusses on the results of a recent Pew poll that aimed to gauge whether the Japanese opinion of the United States rose or fell after the calamity that was 11 March. Citing statistics, Tandon notes that there has indeed been a large increase in the percentage of Japanese people who view America in a favourable light — 85 percent of those surveyed, to be exact. Tandon also notes other tangentially relevant statistics, such as the percentage of people who no longer believe nuclear power should be in Japan's future.
While most newspaper articles demonstrate a strong bias towards one political viewpoint or another, newswires tend to state the technical facts and provide little analysis about what said numbers allude to in the greater scheme of things. That said, however, it is clear that Tandon is clearly writing this article for an English-speaking, most likely American audience — the location provided before the story's lead notes it as having been written in Washington and thus the information he provides is somewhat tailored to be pleasing to the American ear — he mentions Operation Tomodachi and helpfully notes that the word means "friend", which demonstrates that this article is targeted towards people with little knowledge of the Japanese language. Furthermore, Tandon's statement that "More than half of Japanese" believe that America has helped Japan through this crisis is designed to reassure non-Japanese readers that Japan now views the United States in a much more favourable light — indicating that the "majority" supports the relief efforts is much stronger than saying "52 percent".
Even though newswires are supposed to be somewhat unbiased, it is clear that this article has a somewhat Western-centric point of view — rather than differentiating between the categories of individuals surveyed, Tandon (or perhaps the Pew researchers) groups high school students with women and does not elaborate about their ages or why the individuals felt the way they do, and it is thus arguable that Tandon does this for simplicity's sake, in order to allow people uneducated to understand the gravity of the situation.
02 June 2011
Volunteering
I've always interpreted volunteering to be a form of community service, and vice versa. In my eyes, regardless of whether the "volunteering" is optional or mandated, a service to the community is a service to the community. Volunteering and other charitable activities are never altruistic because the both parties receive something -- whether that something has any value is different, but even someone who volunteers out of the kindness of their heart often does it because it makes them feel like they are making a difference, it gives them pleasure to help other people.
As great as it would be for more individuals to step up and contribute to the well-being of society on their own, I think that many people assign a value to their time, and unless they receive something in return, it's not worth it.
I'm not sure whether it is the definition of volunteering or what people think being helpful means that is different in Japan. I grew up in a city where all kinds of charitable work are encouraged and pretty much every event is a fundraiser of some type. To me, volunteering means contributing some of my time to help others. That's it. It seems like in Japan, people do it for different reasons, be it due to peer pressure, to personal guilt, or just to say they did it. I'm not saying that there is no meaning behind it, but I think that it is rarely self-motivated -- we don't exactly see people taking time off work to do it, and when they do, they get a lot of attention for it and are treated as heroes. Actually, one of the things I've noticed about how volunteering here is different is how it is perceived in the media. The media here have jumped on top of it, like it is some amazing thing that Japanese people are helping out.
That doesn't happen back home. Whenever a huge disaster strikes an area, people rush to the affected area just the same, hang posters and hold fundraisers, but these kinds of things are expected. It seems here that a lot of people go up to Tohoku to say that they went, and so they can alleviate the feeling of having not done anything.
As great as it would be for more individuals to step up and contribute to the well-being of society on their own, I think that many people assign a value to their time, and unless they receive something in return, it's not worth it.
I'm not sure whether it is the definition of volunteering or what people think being helpful means that is different in Japan. I grew up in a city where all kinds of charitable work are encouraged and pretty much every event is a fundraiser of some type. To me, volunteering means contributing some of my time to help others. That's it. It seems like in Japan, people do it for different reasons, be it due to peer pressure, to personal guilt, or just to say they did it. I'm not saying that there is no meaning behind it, but I think that it is rarely self-motivated -- we don't exactly see people taking time off work to do it, and when they do, they get a lot of attention for it and are treated as heroes. Actually, one of the things I've noticed about how volunteering here is different is how it is perceived in the media. The media here have jumped on top of it, like it is some amazing thing that Japanese people are helping out.
That doesn't happen back home. Whenever a huge disaster strikes an area, people rush to the affected area just the same, hang posters and hold fundraisers, but these kinds of things are expected. It seems here that a lot of people go up to Tohoku to say that they went, and so they can alleviate the feeling of having not done anything.
30 May 2011
Not "no nuclear"
In an editorial published last Sunday by the English-language version of the Daily Yomiuri, the newspaper's staff encourages individuals pushing for the abolition of nuclear energy to rethink their call for action from a rational and realistic perspective — a smart move, given all of the recent protests that call for "No nukes!" without presenting a detailed alternative, let alone a feasible one.
While it would be impressive if Japan were able to balance its energy sources and increase the amount of renewable energy that the country uses to 20 percent of its total energy use, it is hardly a logical goal to pursue over the next decade — the writers of the article cite a variety of reasons why this would not be possible:
Space does not seem to be the problem, then. If the Japanese government truly wants to reduce its reliance on non-renewable energy sources, then other cuts are in order too. The Japanese people could start by reducing their overall energy usage — this would make it much easier to meet the 20 percent goal for renewable energy, since the total amount of energy required would be much lower. I'm not sure how much energy we are actually saving by powering off the AC in trains on hot days, but if energy conservation was something preached regularly — and not only in times of need — perhaps the government could edge a bit closer to achieving its goal.
Nuclear energy may have proven itself not to be the most safe energy source, but in Japan, where the space is tight and the population high, it seems to be one of the most feasible. It is only now that we are finding out how many flaws there are in the management system of the reactors — perhaps all we need is to learn to save a bit more energy by powering off those brightly lit LCD screens at night and a more transparent government. And that is what we should be protesting for.
While it would be impressive if Japan were able to balance its energy sources and increase the amount of renewable energy that the country uses to 20 percent of its total energy use, it is hardly a logical goal to pursue over the next decade — the writers of the article cite a variety of reasons why this would not be possible:
"The fundamental reason that renewable energy sources are not already in wide use is that they have problems with quality, quantity and cost. For example, development of wind power and geothermal energy is limited by severe restrictions on where facilities can be constructed"and I agree. At this point in time, Japan has neither the economic resources to completely overturn the layout of its current energy grid nor the space. The government can hardly afford to construct a viable number of wind turbines to increase the amount of renewable energy the country uses — even less so over the next decade (the writers state that the government hopes to achieve this goal by 2020), and does not have the resources to allot to the creation of a hydro-powered section of the electricity grid. Solar or geothermal power seem to be the most feasible in this situation then, given the large amounts of open-air (but lived-in) space that the Japanese countryside boasts, and the high number of active hot springs sprinkled throughout the country's four islands. If we only had to take the environmental factors into consideration, implementing either widespread solar or geothermal power blocs — or both — would be the simple answer.
Space does not seem to be the problem, then. If the Japanese government truly wants to reduce its reliance on non-renewable energy sources, then other cuts are in order too. The Japanese people could start by reducing their overall energy usage — this would make it much easier to meet the 20 percent goal for renewable energy, since the total amount of energy required would be much lower. I'm not sure how much energy we are actually saving by powering off the AC in trains on hot days, but if energy conservation was something preached regularly — and not only in times of need — perhaps the government could edge a bit closer to achieving its goal.
Nuclear energy may have proven itself not to be the most safe energy source, but in Japan, where the space is tight and the population high, it seems to be one of the most feasible. It is only now that we are finding out how many flaws there are in the management system of the reactors — perhaps all we need is to learn to save a bit more energy by powering off those brightly lit LCD screens at night and a more transparent government. And that is what we should be protesting for.
24 May 2011
Overconfidence
After growing up in one quake-prone city and migrating to another, I no longer believe in the idea of disaster preparedness. While it's possible to spread useful knowledge — evacuation routes, what to keep in an emergency kit, what an area's policy is about the use of public spaces for evacuees — the actual act of preparation often ends up tossed aside in the rush to find safety and avoid bodily harm.
When things start shaking, the first thing that came to mind for most people was probably not, "Oh crap, where is my earthquake kit?" It was probably something more along the lines of wondering how to avoid getting hit by falling objects or what that evacuation plan map pinned to the wall instructed people to do in case of a fire or natural disaster. This may change: News anchors were definitely reporting that most major stores sold out of earthquake kits, but to me, it remains a hollow insurance, a hollow insurance that actually harms more than it helps.
By placing our confidence in a box of emergency supplies, I think that we often neglect the more important things, such as planning escape routes or how to regroup if we get separated. Why escape if we have spare food and flashlights to go around in the event of a blackout?
The same can be said for the technology that we rely on to inform us of impending danger. Even though scientists have reinforced time and time again that it is impossible to predict when an earthquake will happen little more than a few minutes before — enough to stop trains or to get out from under a glass window — people still seem to think that it is possible, because modern society is so technologically advanced. Slightly tangential, but relevant: I went home to visit family in San Francisco a week or so after the earthquake, and there were definitely radio talkshows discussing the fact that San Francisco was long overdue for a quake, especially because Japan had just had one (the scientific truth being that Oregon is more likely to be affected, in the event that the plates somehow triggered another plate to move, but that's another story). I then witnessed what you could call a mini exodus out of the city: People who hadn't been living in the city for very long or were just terrified of quakes became convinced that there would be a quake the following week thanks to some fear-mongering media, and quickly left, despite reassurances that there was no way to tell whether an earthquake would actually occur.
I think that Japanese society is the complete opposite.
Many of the buildings are retrofitted, so people didn't freak out as much when the actual earthquake came — news reports made sure to point out that the people screaming in their videos were foreigners. This wasn't a problem in Tokyo, where little damage occurred, but much of the camera footage from the more impacted areas showed people who were sitting still and continuing to work — they were confident that their buildings were properly retrofitted, maybe to a fault. Even in Tokyo, many people had no idea what to do in the event of an earthquake and were forced to walk home — and a lot of them didn't even know where to go because the trains weren't running.
I know I'm not alone in pointing this out — many people have criticised the Japanese reliance on technology, on phones, on punctual trains, on electricity. While I'm not saying that this wouldn't have happened elsewhere, I think there is something to be said about this reliance: Nowhere else (even in the quake-prone zones) do phones automatically alert their users of upcoming earthquakes or brag about their earthquake retrofitting. It's true that Japan does have some of the best alert systems in the world and some of the best stabilising structures, but it seems that much of the country still hasn't learned the most important lesson: Technology may improve our lives and our ability to keep ourselves safe, but there will always be something stronger, something more powerful.
When things start shaking, the first thing that came to mind for most people was probably not, "Oh crap, where is my earthquake kit?" It was probably something more along the lines of wondering how to avoid getting hit by falling objects or what that evacuation plan map pinned to the wall instructed people to do in case of a fire or natural disaster. This may change: News anchors were definitely reporting that most major stores sold out of earthquake kits, but to me, it remains a hollow insurance, a hollow insurance that actually harms more than it helps.
By placing our confidence in a box of emergency supplies, I think that we often neglect the more important things, such as planning escape routes or how to regroup if we get separated. Why escape if we have spare food and flashlights to go around in the event of a blackout?
The same can be said for the technology that we rely on to inform us of impending danger. Even though scientists have reinforced time and time again that it is impossible to predict when an earthquake will happen little more than a few minutes before — enough to stop trains or to get out from under a glass window — people still seem to think that it is possible, because modern society is so technologically advanced. Slightly tangential, but relevant: I went home to visit family in San Francisco a week or so after the earthquake, and there were definitely radio talkshows discussing the fact that San Francisco was long overdue for a quake, especially because Japan had just had one (the scientific truth being that Oregon is more likely to be affected, in the event that the plates somehow triggered another plate to move, but that's another story). I then witnessed what you could call a mini exodus out of the city: People who hadn't been living in the city for very long or were just terrified of quakes became convinced that there would be a quake the following week thanks to some fear-mongering media, and quickly left, despite reassurances that there was no way to tell whether an earthquake would actually occur.
I think that Japanese society is the complete opposite.
Many of the buildings are retrofitted, so people didn't freak out as much when the actual earthquake came — news reports made sure to point out that the people screaming in their videos were foreigners. This wasn't a problem in Tokyo, where little damage occurred, but much of the camera footage from the more impacted areas showed people who were sitting still and continuing to work — they were confident that their buildings were properly retrofitted, maybe to a fault. Even in Tokyo, many people had no idea what to do in the event of an earthquake and were forced to walk home — and a lot of them didn't even know where to go because the trains weren't running.
I know I'm not alone in pointing this out — many people have criticised the Japanese reliance on technology, on phones, on punctual trains, on electricity. While I'm not saying that this wouldn't have happened elsewhere, I think there is something to be said about this reliance: Nowhere else (even in the quake-prone zones) do phones automatically alert their users of upcoming earthquakes or brag about their earthquake retrofitting. It's true that Japan does have some of the best alert systems in the world and some of the best stabilising structures, but it seems that much of the country still hasn't learned the most important lesson: Technology may improve our lives and our ability to keep ourselves safe, but there will always be something stronger, something more powerful.
16 May 2011
Playing the blame game
Put in a deliberately vague way: Whenever an event occurs that results in a large loss of either human lives or economic stability, people often look for a scapegoat, someone else to pin responsibility on. Sometimes the identity of this entity is obvious — enemies of the state, a greedy corporation, or even a blundering, seemingly incompetent individual.
It's difficult to blame "Mother Nature" for the problems that humanity has — Governor Ishihara called the disaster "divine retribution" and was severely reprimanded for his allegations, and in a society that seems to have complete control over the forces of the earth, it seems difficult for people to believe that humans have not (yet) domesticated and presided over nature too, hence the desire to look for an actual individual to lay the blame on.
It should come as no surprise, then, that people are looking for someone to blame for the issues that have arisen at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear reactors over the past couple of months — issues that have driven some people out of their homes and even out of the country, issues that have made the implementation of new standards such as actively practising Cool Biz and turning off lights in order to adhere with setsuden regulations. Other than energy conservation, however, is a widespread — if not somewhat subdued — concern about radiation levels in and around the Kanto region.
As summer draws nearer and the mushimushi weather rapidly approaches, people remain dedicated to finding someone to blame for their necessary forgoing of air conditioning — or aircon, as we so cutely call it in Japanese — and delayed trains. In order to find an appropriate scapegoat though, it is important to look at the major players in the game: There's the Tokyo Electric Power Company — otherwise known as TEPCO — the workers who were in charge of maintaining the reactor, the government, and of course, the Japanese people. The only way to blame the Japanese people though is to fault them for relying on nuclear energy, hardly a valid argument in this case — albeit one that has caused many a protest.
Let's break it down, then, shall we?
TEPCO owns and is thus in charge of maintaining the nuclear reactors — some people believe that they should be held responsible for the released radiation because they pushed the government to allow them to use the reactors another 10 years. The New York Times, which originally broke this story, alleges that the regulatory committee was aware that there were flaws in the reactors' systems, but still pushed for an extension of use otherwise.
Using this same argument, people also hold the government responsible because they were the ones who originally approved the decision not to decommission the reactors as originally planned, and maintain that Japan would not be facing issues with radiation had the reactors been swapped out as they were supposed to.
Others say that it was the workers who were at the plant who are responsible for the radiation that has been released into the air — it was the employees' responsibility, they claim, to ensure that the safety systems worked fine. Some of the workers did run away, it's true, but many of them did not — these were the heroic individuals that later came to be known as the Fukushima 50 — and we can hardly blame them, since they worked to help out.
So what is the government doing in response to this? According to Japan Subculture, the Japanese police have begun investigating TEPCO under the charge of professional negligence. Well, that's an interesting argument — and one of the most recent ones too. It remains to be determined whether they will actually find anything, but it is interesting to see where a public entity — the Japanese police force — is attempting to place its blame. It's hard to say at this point whether there will be any consequences, but if the police investigation discovers anything, TEPCO administration officials are looking at being charged as criminals. And it wouldn't be the first time that they have been accused of deliberately holding something back from the press, so with a track record like theirs, they seem to be the perfect victims.
It's difficult to blame "Mother Nature" for the problems that humanity has — Governor Ishihara called the disaster "divine retribution" and was severely reprimanded for his allegations, and in a society that seems to have complete control over the forces of the earth, it seems difficult for people to believe that humans have not (yet) domesticated and presided over nature too, hence the desire to look for an actual individual to lay the blame on.
It should come as no surprise, then, that people are looking for someone to blame for the issues that have arisen at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear reactors over the past couple of months — issues that have driven some people out of their homes and even out of the country, issues that have made the implementation of new standards such as actively practising Cool Biz and turning off lights in order to adhere with setsuden regulations. Other than energy conservation, however, is a widespread — if not somewhat subdued — concern about radiation levels in and around the Kanto region.
As summer draws nearer and the mushimushi weather rapidly approaches, people remain dedicated to finding someone to blame for their necessary forgoing of air conditioning — or aircon, as we so cutely call it in Japanese — and delayed trains. In order to find an appropriate scapegoat though, it is important to look at the major players in the game: There's the Tokyo Electric Power Company — otherwise known as TEPCO — the workers who were in charge of maintaining the reactor, the government, and of course, the Japanese people. The only way to blame the Japanese people though is to fault them for relying on nuclear energy, hardly a valid argument in this case — albeit one that has caused many a protest.
Let's break it down, then, shall we?
TEPCO owns and is thus in charge of maintaining the nuclear reactors — some people believe that they should be held responsible for the released radiation because they pushed the government to allow them to use the reactors another 10 years. The New York Times, which originally broke this story, alleges that the regulatory committee was aware that there were flaws in the reactors' systems, but still pushed for an extension of use otherwise.
Using this same argument, people also hold the government responsible because they were the ones who originally approved the decision not to decommission the reactors as originally planned, and maintain that Japan would not be facing issues with radiation had the reactors been swapped out as they were supposed to.
Others say that it was the workers who were at the plant who are responsible for the radiation that has been released into the air — it was the employees' responsibility, they claim, to ensure that the safety systems worked fine. Some of the workers did run away, it's true, but many of them did not — these were the heroic individuals that later came to be known as the Fukushima 50 — and we can hardly blame them, since they worked to help out.
So what is the government doing in response to this? According to Japan Subculture, the Japanese police have begun investigating TEPCO under the charge of professional negligence. Well, that's an interesting argument — and one of the most recent ones too. It remains to be determined whether they will actually find anything, but it is interesting to see where a public entity — the Japanese police force — is attempting to place its blame. It's hard to say at this point whether there will be any consequences, but if the police investigation discovers anything, TEPCO administration officials are looking at being charged as criminals. And it wouldn't be the first time that they have been accused of deliberately holding something back from the press, so with a track record like theirs, they seem to be the perfect victims.
15 May 2011
Useful articles for 日本人論研究 (in progress)
Related to the Tohoku quake:
Japan Ponders Its New Normal - Hiroko Tabuchi (NYT)
For a Change, Proud to be Japanese - Hiroki Azuma (NYT)
Japan quake: Disaster tests country's famed 'stoicism' - Chris Hogg (BBC Tokyo)
Extreme nationalism may emerge from the rubble of the quake (Michael Hoffman)
Better to be branded a 'flyjin' than a man of the 'sheeple' - Debito Arudou (Japan Times)
'Flyjin,' 'sheeple,' angry people: readers' views - a response to Debito
Report from Tokyo: A Mindset of Normalcy - David Wagner (HuffPo)
The last two paragraphs about the idea of jishuku are interesting, the rest isn't.
Japan fears post-quake rise in suicides - John M. Glionna (LA Times)
I wonder why Japanese news hasn't really covered this much
Scams mustn't overshadow acts of goodwill (Yomiuri with the ANN)
Crushed, but true to law of 'gaman' (The Australian)
Dunno how legit this source is, though.
Other big events:
Aum's crimes marked start of growing public safety fear - Reiji Yoshida and Masami Ito (Japan Times)
Are you worried that Tokyo could be a target of terrorism? - Melanie Burton (Japan Times)
It's Japanese trait to close eyes, not see bad (Rome News-Tribune)
A scanned article from Google news discussing the 1995 Great Hanshin quake (pretty biased)
Rift in Coverage; Japanese and Western Quake Reporting Worlds Apart
If someone could access this, it might be a good starting point. It's about the different mentalities Westerners and Japanese people have based on their reactions to the Hanshin quake.
**There's a lot of stuff about Aum and the Hanshin quake but it's all behind a paywall.
Japan Ponders Its New Normal - Hiroko Tabuchi (NYT)
For a Change, Proud to be Japanese - Hiroki Azuma (NYT)
Japan quake: Disaster tests country's famed 'stoicism' - Chris Hogg (BBC Tokyo)
Extreme nationalism may emerge from the rubble of the quake (Michael Hoffman)
Better to be branded a 'flyjin' than a man of the 'sheeple' - Debito Arudou (Japan Times)
'Flyjin,' 'sheeple,' angry people: readers' views - a response to Debito
Report from Tokyo: A Mindset of Normalcy - David Wagner (HuffPo)
The last two paragraphs about the idea of jishuku are interesting, the rest isn't.
Japan fears post-quake rise in suicides - John M. Glionna (LA Times)
I wonder why Japanese news hasn't really covered this much
Scams mustn't overshadow acts of goodwill (Yomiuri with the ANN)
Crushed, but true to law of 'gaman' (The Australian)
Dunno how legit this source is, though.
Other big events:
Aum's crimes marked start of growing public safety fear - Reiji Yoshida and Masami Ito (Japan Times)
Are you worried that Tokyo could be a target of terrorism? - Melanie Burton (Japan Times)
It's Japanese trait to close eyes, not see bad (Rome News-Tribune)
A scanned article from Google news discussing the 1995 Great Hanshin quake (pretty biased)
Rift in Coverage; Japanese and Western Quake Reporting Worlds Apart
If someone could access this, it might be a good starting point. It's about the different mentalities Westerners and Japanese people have based on their reactions to the Hanshin quake.
**There's a lot of stuff about Aum and the Hanshin quake but it's all behind a paywall.
05 May 2011
Putting the "social" into social media
Using social media sometimes feels like attending a party or moving to a new city. You may know a few people there and a few of them may recognise you, but you're pretty much on your own. Friends will introduce you to their friends, and then it's your responsibility to build a network. And like at a party or in a new city, some places are harder to fit into, it's more difficult to meet people of a certain personality type, with certain interests.
Research projects require a great deal of work, and the best ones always showcase multiple perspectives in order to minimise the chances of appearing biased. Many news aggregators and their corresponding twitter feeds have presented Tokyoites' views of Tokyo after the Tohoku disaster began — these are the easiest sources to find — but few have highlighted individuals who do not seek the spotlight and are simply narrating daily life. The Twitter feeds and sites that I have chosen to follow do exactly this: They are either maintained by individuals or provide a less mainstream, less-attention-hungry look into Tokyo life.
The lists are in progress — I'm trying to find new people to follow who I'm not following already.
Research projects require a great deal of work, and the best ones always showcase multiple perspectives in order to minimise the chances of appearing biased. Many news aggregators and their corresponding twitter feeds have presented Tokyoites' views of Tokyo after the Tohoku disaster began — these are the easiest sources to find — but few have highlighted individuals who do not seek the spotlight and are simply narrating daily life. The Twitter feeds and sites that I have chosen to follow do exactly this: They are either maintained by individuals or provide a less mainstream, less-attention-hungry look into Tokyo life.
The lists are in progress — I'm trying to find new people to follow who I'm not following already.
25 April 2011
Adaptation
Quoth anthropologist Anthony Oliver-Smith in the introduction of Anthropological Research on Hazards and Disasters:
Somehow, given recent events — the 7.0 magnitude earthquake that rocked Haiti last year, the 6.3 Christchurch earthquake in New Zealand last February and now, the March 11 9.0 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami — I beg to disagree.
While it is indeed possible to reduce the gravity and impact that a so-called "natural disaster" will have on the so-called "victims" of the incident, it would be impossible, I think, to completely avoid being affected at all. It is a known fact that the Japanese have been preparing for a large earthquake for years — after all, the country is situated right in the middle of the Pacific Ring of Fire, which is infamous for its annual number of earthquakes and volcanoes, and the country has been subject to more than a couple tremors and a few big quakes (Kanto in 1923, Kobe-Osaka in 1995) in its long history.
Even given the earthquakes that have happened over the past few years in various regions around the world, no one could have anticipated or accurately predicted just how strong the March 11 quake would be. Perhaps they may have been able to say that a tsunami would sweep the nation's northeast coast if the impending quake was strong enough and centred in just the right place, but that would have been it. It always has been, and still remains, nearly impossible to give more than a few minutes' warning — enough to stop the rapid trains and minimise the death toll.
Would it be fair to say that Japan has not managed to adapt to its natural environment? I say no, because the tsunami barriers were built to withstand earthquakes up to a certain magnitude and waves up to a certain height. Sure, the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 previously held the record of Japan's biggest quake — it clocked in with a stunning magnitude of 8.3 — but the Japanese did their best to retrofit their buildings for the quake that they were sure would hit.
This retrofitting is what minimised the effects the quake had on the nation's capital of Tokyo — buildings swayed like leaves in the wind, but nothing major collapsed and the metropolis was back up on its feet within a day.
This retrofitting is what kept the nuclear reactors at Fukushima from completely falling apart — they were built to withstand a magnitude 7.9 quake which, before March 11, would have been considered quite big. It's funny (in an awkward sort of way) how magnitude 5.0 quakes are considered small, and 6.0 is considered worrisome, when that was all it took to devastate Christchurch a few months ago.
Yes, perhaps now the Japanese will reexamine their blueprints, modify the earthquake section of their building codes, but it's not as if they failed as a society on March 11 when entire towns were swept out to sea — it's quite the opposite. The nation's ability to prepare for earthquakes was showcased on that fateful day — a quake that big anywhere else and the critically affected radius would have been much, much, much larger.
"In very graphic ways, disasters signal the failure of a society to adapt successfully to certain features of its natural and socially constructed environment in a sustainable fashion" (303).
Somehow, given recent events — the 7.0 magnitude earthquake that rocked Haiti last year, the 6.3 Christchurch earthquake in New Zealand last February and now, the March 11 9.0 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami — I beg to disagree.
While it is indeed possible to reduce the gravity and impact that a so-called "natural disaster" will have on the so-called "victims" of the incident, it would be impossible, I think, to completely avoid being affected at all. It is a known fact that the Japanese have been preparing for a large earthquake for years — after all, the country is situated right in the middle of the Pacific Ring of Fire, which is infamous for its annual number of earthquakes and volcanoes, and the country has been subject to more than a couple tremors and a few big quakes (Kanto in 1923, Kobe-Osaka in 1995) in its long history.
Even given the earthquakes that have happened over the past few years in various regions around the world, no one could have anticipated or accurately predicted just how strong the March 11 quake would be. Perhaps they may have been able to say that a tsunami would sweep the nation's northeast coast if the impending quake was strong enough and centred in just the right place, but that would have been it. It always has been, and still remains, nearly impossible to give more than a few minutes' warning — enough to stop the rapid trains and minimise the death toll.
Would it be fair to say that Japan has not managed to adapt to its natural environment? I say no, because the tsunami barriers were built to withstand earthquakes up to a certain magnitude and waves up to a certain height. Sure, the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 previously held the record of Japan's biggest quake — it clocked in with a stunning magnitude of 8.3 — but the Japanese did their best to retrofit their buildings for the quake that they were sure would hit.
This retrofitting is what minimised the effects the quake had on the nation's capital of Tokyo — buildings swayed like leaves in the wind, but nothing major collapsed and the metropolis was back up on its feet within a day.
This retrofitting is what kept the nuclear reactors at Fukushima from completely falling apart — they were built to withstand a magnitude 7.9 quake which, before March 11, would have been considered quite big. It's funny (in an awkward sort of way) how magnitude 5.0 quakes are considered small, and 6.0 is considered worrisome, when that was all it took to devastate Christchurch a few months ago.
Yes, perhaps now the Japanese will reexamine their blueprints, modify the earthquake section of their building codes, but it's not as if they failed as a society on March 11 when entire towns were swept out to sea — it's quite the opposite. The nation's ability to prepare for earthquakes was showcased on that fateful day — a quake that big anywhere else and the critically affected radius would have been much, much, much larger.
21 April 2011
Firsthand experiences
Reading through my classmates' posts makes me feel like I got off easy because I had been home, safe with my housemates and with a good amount of food, unlike Tomoka369 and Rena, who were both out of their houses when the quake happened. The imagery of thousands of people walking is incredibly powerful to me and served as a harsh reminder of how reliant we have become on our technology — a few of my classmates mentioned how chaotic the transportation situation became and posted photos.
Some of the most interesting posts in my opinion were from the people who had not actually been in Japan during the earthquake itself. Though many of them shared what they had been doing at the time of the quake, many of the exchange students spent their time discussing the role that the mass media played in spreading awareness (and perhaps fear) outside of Japanese borders. Tani brought up some good points about how many people outside of Japan remained unaware of what was actually going on, and Simen from Norway reiterated the sensationalist nature of the media, which leads me to believe that many people who decided to either leave or return to Japan may not have been completely informed about the current situation.
My classmates' posts definitely helped supplement the excerpts of Quakebook, which I've been reading recently. For those who don't know, Quakebook is a crowd-sourced-from-Twitter ebook that was published just last week and chronicles the earthquake from multiple perspectives, some from inside Japan, some out. All of the stories I've read so far have one thing in common: They highlight in some way, shape or form the fact that Japan has united itself as one, whether it be by talking about the people helping strangers or the massive relief effort that everyone seems to be contributing to. It's beautiful (perhaps in some twisted way) how such strong bonds can emerge in such a disastrous situation.
Some of the most interesting posts in my opinion were from the people who had not actually been in Japan during the earthquake itself. Though many of them shared what they had been doing at the time of the quake, many of the exchange students spent their time discussing the role that the mass media played in spreading awareness (and perhaps fear) outside of Japanese borders. Tani brought up some good points about how many people outside of Japan remained unaware of what was actually going on, and Simen from Norway reiterated the sensationalist nature of the media, which leads me to believe that many people who decided to either leave or return to Japan may not have been completely informed about the current situation.
My classmates' posts definitely helped supplement the excerpts of Quakebook, which I've been reading recently. For those who don't know, Quakebook is a crowd-sourced-from-Twitter ebook that was published just last week and chronicles the earthquake from multiple perspectives, some from inside Japan, some out. All of the stories I've read so far have one thing in common: They highlight in some way, shape or form the fact that Japan has united itself as one, whether it be by talking about the people helping strangers or the massive relief effort that everyone seems to be contributing to. It's beautiful (perhaps in some twisted way) how such strong bonds can emerge in such a disastrous situation.
19 April 2011
Nuclear Ginza
Above is the first part of Nuclear Ginza, a relatively short British documentary about working conditions in the nuclear reactors. I watched this over two weeks ago, but it still has not left my head, because the scenes it includes are disconcerting and, at times, downright sad. The producer of the film focusses his attention on the burakumin — Japan's equivalent of the caste system's untouchables — and attempts to interview individuals who have been subject to more radiation exposure than any human should have in his or her lifetime. If you have the time to spare, it's a great watch — albeit a slightly depressing one.
The worst part? You can still find job openings for nuclear plant workers on Hello Work, and they pay ludicrously high salaries... at an immeasurably higher cost. I'm slightly appalled at how Japanese people can luxuriously live day by day while this so-called illiterate lower class can exist in such poverty.
18 April 2011
Beginnings
Where was I at 2:46 p.m. on March 11?
I feel like that's a question that I've had to answer multiple times. When I went home to San Francisco for the rest of spring break, I fielded this inquiry each time someone asked me to donate — I would hesitate for a second, reluctant to give money to a cause that I know needs more than just dollars and yen to support it, that needs more than the goodwill of samaritans thousands of miles away. This second of hesitation, of course, almost always led to the solicitor admitting immediately that, "donating isn't necessary and I'm sorry for wasting your time," and I would feel guilty and dig through my pockets for a couple bucks. If I was with a friend, however, they'd usually grasp my shoulder reassuringly and mention something about how I had been there so it was a bit of a sensitive topic for me. San Franciscans are naturally curious, so this inevitably would lead to a curious look (at best) or an awkward, slightly invasive question (at worst).
Anyway, I digress.
When the first tremors of what would soon come to be known as the Great Tohoku Earthquake began, I was skyping with one of my best friends back home. After a year and a half of living in Tokyo and eighteen years of living in one of the most earthquake-prone cities on the West Coast, it takes more than a couple of shakes to spook me, and so I remained cross-legged on my bed, nonchalantly chatting with my friend as I waited for the ground to stop hiccuping. It didn't. Thirty seconds or so later, the earth suddenly had a coughing fit and things started rattling around — I could hear the glasses moving in the cabinets downstairs and a terrified housemate running outside. Worried about her, I jumped off the bed and ran outside to check on her, leaving my laptop open in the process and inadvertently treating my friend to the bone-chilling soundtrack of books and knick-knacks falling off my windowsill and crashing to the floor. When the tremors finally subsided after what felt like an eternity but probably was really only a couple of minutes, I went back into the house to assess the damage — there was none. I suppose we got off lucky because we live in a house rather than an earthquake-retrofitted high rise that is designed to sway with the movement of the ground.
As I headed cautiously up the stairs, my phone picked up wifi again and my twitter app went crazy with people asking whether I was okay and warning me that there was a tsunami quickly approaching the northern seaboard. I didn't have time to grasp the seriousness of the situation because just then, the second round of shaking began and I ran downstairs again to stand with my housemates. Though we had never discussed it before, the same thought was running through all our heads: We're riding this through together. And so we stood outside our gates until the shaking stopped and my housemates calmed down enough to go back inside. We would remain downstairs together late into the night, talking about whatever we could to distract us from the constant shaking — products of the incessant aftershock and the jishin-yoi that came with them —while half-listening to NHK in the background.
I found myself checking Twitter obsessively. I don't think I've ever refreshed it so many times in a day. Since the phone networks were down, the site became one of the ways I kept tabs on my friends and checked to see whether they were okay. I don't think it ever dawned on me just how large of a role Twitter would take in the next few days as Tokyoites began to see and comprehend the full extent of the situation. As someone who can read and speak Japanese passably but not natively, I hardly had the patience to weed through the sites that we were being told to refer to for information about the rolling blackouts that would be implemented — not that they were much help anyway since they didn't stick to schedule — or the train schedule changes that would be implemented in what turned out to be a sometimes-futile attempt to prevent said blackouts.
After a dinner of whatever we could scrounge up from the depths of our cabinets, a bit of freaking out about whether we actually had flashlights in the house and Skype calls home, sometime in the early hours of morning, I went up to my bedroom and attempted to sleep. Attempted should be the key word there, because with each and every bump or creak in the house, I found myself on edge, waiting for nature's Godot. I'm still waiting.
I feel like that's a question that I've had to answer multiple times. When I went home to San Francisco for the rest of spring break, I fielded this inquiry each time someone asked me to donate — I would hesitate for a second, reluctant to give money to a cause that I know needs more than just dollars and yen to support it, that needs more than the goodwill of samaritans thousands of miles away. This second of hesitation, of course, almost always led to the solicitor admitting immediately that, "donating isn't necessary and I'm sorry for wasting your time," and I would feel guilty and dig through my pockets for a couple bucks. If I was with a friend, however, they'd usually grasp my shoulder reassuringly and mention something about how I had been there so it was a bit of a sensitive topic for me. San Franciscans are naturally curious, so this inevitably would lead to a curious look (at best) or an awkward, slightly invasive question (at worst).
Anyway, I digress.
When the first tremors of what would soon come to be known as the Great Tohoku Earthquake began, I was skyping with one of my best friends back home. After a year and a half of living in Tokyo and eighteen years of living in one of the most earthquake-prone cities on the West Coast, it takes more than a couple of shakes to spook me, and so I remained cross-legged on my bed, nonchalantly chatting with my friend as I waited for the ground to stop hiccuping. It didn't. Thirty seconds or so later, the earth suddenly had a coughing fit and things started rattling around — I could hear the glasses moving in the cabinets downstairs and a terrified housemate running outside. Worried about her, I jumped off the bed and ran outside to check on her, leaving my laptop open in the process and inadvertently treating my friend to the bone-chilling soundtrack of books and knick-knacks falling off my windowsill and crashing to the floor. When the tremors finally subsided after what felt like an eternity but probably was really only a couple of minutes, I went back into the house to assess the damage — there was none. I suppose we got off lucky because we live in a house rather than an earthquake-retrofitted high rise that is designed to sway with the movement of the ground.
As I headed cautiously up the stairs, my phone picked up wifi again and my twitter app went crazy with people asking whether I was okay and warning me that there was a tsunami quickly approaching the northern seaboard. I didn't have time to grasp the seriousness of the situation because just then, the second round of shaking began and I ran downstairs again to stand with my housemates. Though we had never discussed it before, the same thought was running through all our heads: We're riding this through together. And so we stood outside our gates until the shaking stopped and my housemates calmed down enough to go back inside. We would remain downstairs together late into the night, talking about whatever we could to distract us from the constant shaking — products of the incessant aftershock and the jishin-yoi that came with them —while half-listening to NHK in the background.
I found myself checking Twitter obsessively. I don't think I've ever refreshed it so many times in a day. Since the phone networks were down, the site became one of the ways I kept tabs on my friends and checked to see whether they were okay. I don't think it ever dawned on me just how large of a role Twitter would take in the next few days as Tokyoites began to see and comprehend the full extent of the situation. As someone who can read and speak Japanese passably but not natively, I hardly had the patience to weed through the sites that we were being told to refer to for information about the rolling blackouts that would be implemented — not that they were much help anyway since they didn't stick to schedule — or the train schedule changes that would be implemented in what turned out to be a sometimes-futile attempt to prevent said blackouts.
After a dinner of whatever we could scrounge up from the depths of our cabinets, a bit of freaking out about whether we actually had flashlights in the house and Skype calls home, sometime in the early hours of morning, I went up to my bedroom and attempted to sleep. Attempted should be the key word there, because with each and every bump or creak in the house, I found myself on edge, waiting for nature's Godot. I'm still waiting.
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