In some ways I question posting a personal account of my earthquake experience this soon after the event; there are many much more important things to consider, and in some ways it seems a bit insensitive. But, partly because family and friends are curious and partly because I think it will help me process this all, I've decided to post at least some of what happened during and soon after the quake.
Friday afternoon (March 11th) I was teaching at one of the small elementary schools I visit only twice per month in my ALT (Assistant Language Teacher) position. The school year is almost finished, and I'm concluding my work at this position, so this was my last time visiting this school. In the special English room on the third floor, the homeroom teacher, the JTE (Japanese Teacher of English) and I were just finishing the next-to-last class of the day, a group of about 20 2nd graders.
As an aside, I have to explain that when I first came to Japan, I had only felt two medium sized earthquakes in all my life, so initially every time there was a small tremor I tensed up and thought “should I protect myself?” After about the 10th or 12th or ?th time, I started to accept that it was just part of life here, and ignored them unless they felt fairly strong or lasted particularly long.
Friday afternoon when the quake started, my reaction was, at first, “whatever.” That was for the first few seconds; after that point, it didn't feel like “just another tremor” anymore. The homeroom teacher, the JTE and I all looked at each other, and the homeroom teacher gave a command. I was shocked at how quickly the students moved to either dash under tables or huddle together in a safety formation covering their heads and necks in the center of the room away from moving objects. (The last few days I've needed to laugh sometimes, and it's still a source of humor for me to imagine the situation happening at a public school in the States. Please excuse the cultural stereotype, but compared to the well-trained students here, I can imagine students in the USA when told “Get under the tables-NOW!” whining “Whaaat? Nah, I don't wanna....”)
I crouched, holding one end of a long table with several students under it while the JTE did the same at the other end. About the time I expected the shaking to begin to taper off, it increased and there was a sound that I can't fully describe. It was a roar combined with a rumble, something like what I'd imagine you'd hear if you put your ear to the ground near the site of a space shuttle launch as ten fully-loaded freight trains passed near you. About that time some of the students started crying; the other teachers and I pasted smiles on our faces and started saying to the students “daijoubu! daijoubu! (it's OK--it's OK)” I leaned toward the JTE and whisper-shouted: “are we ok?” She answered, “I've never felt anything like this...” The rumbling roar continued for longer than I imagined possible, but finally started to decrease, eventually the shaking changed into a strange, gentle (if it's possible to use that word in this situation) swaying. An announcement on the intercom produced a stronger than usual feeling of the frustration that I feel when I hear something that I'm sure must be important, but can't understand because of my very limited Japanese. Everyone waited for a minute or two, then a second announcement came, and we all rushed down the stairs and into the school yard. I felt that the quake had lasted at least two minutes, but then thought of how time stops for you in situations like that, and after mentioning that to others they too thought it must have only been a fraction of that time. But I just checked a fact sheet. The quake lasted five minutes. Five minutes. According to GPS measurements, the east coast of Japan is now 8 feet closer to North America than it was before the quake. Unbelievable.
Some teachers went back into the staff room, and I was told it was safe to do so. I tried to call Nozomi on my cell phone, but of course couldn't connect due to the huge number of others trying to check their families and friends. After 45 minutes of trying, I finally thought that maybe a text message would go through, since the size of the data would be small. I titled an e-mail “I'm OK-you OK?” with no other content, and pressed the send button. It went through on the second try. Then I remembered that I had my mobile Internet connection with me; it connected to the Net, no problem. I sent an e-mail to my family and posted a message on Facebook. I remember thinking a few hours later, how did people cope with the long waits in communication before we had the technology we take for granted now? God has reminded me again that He created us to be amazingly creative and adaptable-we are “fearfully and wonderfully” made.
A short time later I was told it was OK to go home; it was truly bizarre circumstances to say goodbye in. I told the vice principal that I enjoyed my time teaching there--except the last day. She smiled. On the drive home, I thought twice before taking my usual route that goes through a long tunnel (about one minute to pass through), but as I approached it I noticed workers were already there with what looked like a laser surveying device, apparently verifying the safety of the tunnel. I was surprised and encouraged by how quickly the government was dispatching workers.
As I drove on a small section of the expressway that I regularly use, it seemed to be bumpier than usual. I thought maybe I was imagining that, but the next day a sign at the expressway entrance displayed a reduced speed limit and a notice to be careful of rough spots. Most of the rest of my drive home was uneventful until I reached the train station, which is the dividing line between the west and east sides of the city. From there east, all electricity was out, including the traffic signals. The rule in America is, if traffic signals aren't working, the intersection becomes a four-way stop. I haven't verified yet what the rule is here, but if there is a rule, it wasn't obeyed. It was chaos. It appeared that at places where a larger street intersected with a smaller one, the traffic on the larger street continued going and the side street, well, they were on their own. At other intersections where two equally sized streets meet, there seemed to be some secret, unseen cue for the traffic to alternate. I couldn't figure it out, so I waited until traffic on my street was moving a bit and then rushed through. When I reached some of the larger intersections, there were police directing traffic, fortunately, and after that I was pretty close to home.
I stopped at the church school where Nozomi teaches; she and everyone there were fine. Some students were still waiting for their parents to pick them up because the traffic was so hectic. Soon after that, Nozomi & I returned to our apartment. I had images of smashed dishes, toppled cabinets, and a TV in pieces on the floor, but even though some of the furniture had “walked” a step or two across the floor, nothing important had fallen down or broken. Thank you, God! Because there was still no electricity, it was getting dark quickly, so our next challenge was to find a flashlight or candles. Since we had just finished moving to the new apartment the week before, the majority of our things were still in boxes, and it was difficult to search. We finally found some decorative, chocolate-scented candles that put out just enough light so we could see to pack an overnight bag. At least the apartment smelled delicious while we were packing! At our place, no electricity also meant no water and no heat, so we decided to try our luck at Nozomi's parents' house, about a 20-minute drive out of town to the east.
The roads were fine as we were driving, but the further east we got, the more damaged structures we saw, mostly garden walls made of stone blocks that had fallen down. We did see more serious damage; some older buildings had walls that had collapsed. Nozomi's parents, grandmother and sister were in a small town to the north at a hotel that night. The damage there was small enough that the guests stayed, and they didn't lose power or water so it was good timing. At their house, the dish cupboards had shaken open, and several dishes were smashed on the floor. Nozomi's brother arrived a few minutes after we did, and we did some minor clean up by candlelight. They have kerosene heaters that don't need electricity to start, and the water was still working, so it was a bit more comfortable to sleep there than at our place (and their two-story house wasn't as frightening in the aftershocks). Late the next morning, Nozomi's family arrived home; they were all fine. I was able to connect to the Internet again, and found out soon after that the power had been restored in our neighborhood, so we decided to head home.
Since Sunday, there have been rolling blackouts, long lines at the gas station, and the grocery stores sometimes sell out of perishable food like milk and bread. However, our problems are really just inconveniences compared to the devastation from the tsunami in the Sendai area. The other serious concern is the crisis at the damaged nuclear power plants. In spite of this, we still believe that God has a plan to bring hope out of this disaster. Romans 8:28 promises that God's power to do good is above all other problems. So, please continue to pray, but don't worry.
I think that's more than enough narrative for now, but one more note about the aftershocks: there have already been 35 at 6.0 or above. For the first three days I jumped up and was ready to run out the door nearly every time. I'm re-adjusting now, and now I react almost like I did last Thursday. Almost.
