This is a long one…..
So, a few days after I wrote that last blog entry, life was put into perspective for me by mother nature. The most powerful earthquake ever recorded in Japan, and the 5th most powerful in the world since records began, hit the country, causing a tsunami that has killed thousands of people, ruined thousands more lives, and created what also turned out to be the worst nuclear disaster this country has seen, something only really surpassable by incidents of Russian creation. On reflection, I think it’s fair to say, that it has been a difficult month.
Now, before you read on, please don’t think for one moment I am going to compare what I went through with what the residents of the areas in Tohoku, that took the worst of the earthquake, and tsunami, and nuclear meltdown went through, and continue to do so. They have it worse, in every conceivable way. This is more an entry of what happened to me.
The moment the earthquake hit Tokyo, I was on a train that had, 5 seconds earlier, just opened it’s doors in Shinagawa station. And hungover. Quite badly as it happened. If ever you need something that will sober you in three seconds flat, it is an entire country moving underneath you (check it out, Japan actually moved 4 metres closer to the US as a result of the earthquake. And the earth actually tilted ever so slightly on it’s axis too….). The train shook violently, so much so that I thought we’d first been hit by another following train. As the shock of the first shake died, the train continued to lurch energetically from side to side, as the announcement that a powerful earthquake was underway. Looking at the platform from the train, it looked like it was rippling. Think about that for a second. The platform was undulating. I got out of the train and turned around, looking up to see two huge buildings swaying what was metres at the top, and saw from the name on one of the buildings that I was supposed to be there in 10 minutes…… One word went through my head. Fuck.
I got to the building to see that the elevators were now out of action, and that even the internal phone system was being problematic. I was there to see my onsite staff, so being unable to contact back to the office (I later learned that everyone was OK after evacuating amid walls and stairs that had cracks appear in them) I simply waited around for the phones to start working in order to check that my staff were fine. Which took about 2 and a half hours. During that time, the aftershock hit, bringing down already loosened ceiling tiles from the lobby, and tearing the escalators down to the ground floor away from the mountings they were on, cracking the floor in the process. Every time an aftershock came after that the escalators would sway and vibrate where they were.
What was more disconcerting at this point was the grinding and creaking noises that the anti-earthquake measures inside the walls were making. When you hear something like that start, it’s like an ominous reminder that the next aftershock could be another big one, which, after seeing the escalators torn away from a stone floor, was not something that I wanted to witness.
Finally, at about 5 o’clock-ish, I got to speak with my staff, who were thankfully all fine. The first think I tried to do was get in touch with my family, but there was no getting through to home or the nursery. So after queing up for a pointless attempt at a public phone, I took out some cash. When something like this happens, you know that the journey home will be a total wanker, so instead of getting right to it, I got some dinner. Some frankly rubbish box of rice and fish. But by the time I got to the store it was all that was left (literally, I got the last one!) so I took that and a bottle of water, and sat down for a few minutes of rest and calm. It got close to 6pm, and finally, I faced up to the fact that I had to get home some how. Shinagawa station was now closed for a few hours (no trains were running anyway), so first, I thought maybe I could get a taxi. Silly Gibbo. While I waited, I took the opportunity to find a way to contact the wife and make sure that her and the wee fella were OK (as my phone could make calls or send SMS messages, I had to email my sister at work in the UK to get her to call my flat to talk to my family, and then email me back…)
I waited in total for 3 hours for taxis that stopped coming after the first 90 minutes. I figured out why when I left the queue that was continuing to grow, and got out to the other side of the station, to witness what can only be described as pure grid lock. Again, fuck. Options…….walk, walk or walk.It’s worth noting that at this point, on the monitors and screens in Shinagawa station, I saw for the first time what happened with the tsunami. When you see that kind of uncontrolled power, filmed by quick minded people fleeing with video cameras, or helicopters chasing the wave, your heart sinks. I saw a huge black wave flowing relentlessly over cultivated farm land, just swallowing everything that lay before it, I saw a wall of water pounding through streets, filling the town as it went. I even, later on, saw footage of rivers flowing backwards, such was the power of this thing that nature had unleashed on Tohoku. When you see that kind of thing, your heart really sinks. But I had my family to get to. Knowing that my family was safe, I only had one option really: to walk.
So I walked! First about 3km to a nearby station, that actually, miraculously, had running trains going out of it. I wanted to get towards Shibuya, and was told that a couple of lines, including the Ginza line (towards Shibuya!) were running. What those bastard station staff didn’t bother to tell me when I was training it around was that most stations were still closed due to predictably severe over crowding. Which meant no Ginza line.
Muttering curses to train companies all over the world, I got back up top, into the night. I was now in Shinbashi, and I had to get to Shibuya. Not really so far, about 4 miles or so in total, but I was already cold and exhausted, and there were thousands of people on the streets already. By this time, it was roughly 10pm I reckon. The walk took about 2 hours, and on the way, there were signs here and there of the quake that had hit hours previously, from shattered windows on the floor that had fallen out of fittings high above, to cracked concrete where buildings had shifted with the force. The other thing that continued to stand out was the grid lock. Cars were lined up for miles and miles, but going nowhere, absolutely nowhere. I was going faster than they were. I consider getting on one bus that I saw at a stop, but as I walked realised that I would probably still be in it the following morning, such was the pure chaos that the road system had become.
After the hike to Shibuya, I managed to get onto a train. First, let me register the pure surprise that I felt when I got there to see that the line I always get on was moving! Next, let me register my surprise that I could even get on. I have never even seen a train that busy or full, not even in the worst moments of my travel experience in Japan. It was so busy that I actually thought that the doors to the train were going to break under the strain. Just think, for a second, how many people it would take to get on a train to make you genuinely fear that the doors are going to give way.
Eventually, we got to Mizonokuchi, taking more than twice the amount of time that this journey normally takes. Finally, eschewing the pointless taxi queue that I saw (with the bitter taste of the 3 hour wait at Shinagawa still in my mouth), one final, tired, 20 minute walk home, and at 1am, tired, hungry and sleepy, I got home. Phase 1, complete.
When I arrived, the Mrs was still awake, making food. This may sound a little weird, but think about it. If another one hits, what happens? Do we lose water this time? What about electricity? So my wife was dutifully making onigiri at 1am in the morning. I had a shower, and then proceeded to make emergency bags that we could pick up at a moments notice, just in case the next one hit closer to home and we weren’t so lucky. And finally, at 2:30am on March 12th, I went to bed.
The next day was no better, but in a different way.
As the day unraveled itself (that is really how it felt) the world watched the situation in the Fukushima nuclear power station slowly escalate, going from bad to worse as temperatures rose, buildings exploded, and radiation escaped. This was a danger of a different kind.
I know roughly nothing about radiation, other than it’s not particularly nice. As we watched TV it started to get bad, and the situation become more and more unpredictable. This was what really started the mess in Tokyo, this and some truly terrible processing of information between the government, Tokyo Electric (yes, the company that I regularly did keiko with every Friday) and the general public. We didn’t have enough info, we didn’t know what was happening. Were we going to fry? Will Fukushima explode? Are we going to see Chernobyl all over again? Obviously, it was never going to be that bad, but given that nobody was telling us, we didn’t have a clue. All we can see is radioactive steam and the wind blowing towards us. Great.
Monday at work came and went. I don’t really recall what I did that day past collating names, numbers and emails for an emergency list. A 20 minute job that took the whole day. The entire office was attached to the news for the entire day, watching Fukushima get steadily worse, as another building exploded, radiation levels continued to creep slowly up, and the shadow of something truly awful grew in everyone’s mind. On Tuesday morning, my employer closed the Tokyo office. There was news reports of iodine and caesium being carried on the wind, and being in Tokyo by nightfall. What made basically the entire situation 10 times worse than it needed to be was the sensationalist feeding frenzy that the foreign press had built up, and was by this time in full swing. Great news for those watching from a distance, total disinformation and worryingly sensationalist for those of us here, reading news sources that we had previously trusted because we thought (wrongly) that places like the BBC can keep us informed. So…..
I panicked. Much later on, I (along with a great deal of the foreign population of Tokyo), figured out that a good deal of the initial over seas reporting was being exaggerated to sex up the story. What it did to me was tip me over the edge, and I had a funny 5 minutes. I called the mrs at work twice inside of 90 minutes (the first time I’ve ever even called her at the hospital, never mind twice) first to tell her what was happening with my office, and then after that to ask if we should rent a car and just drive away, like to Nagoya or Osaka. In the end I went and bought a shit load of food (I spent as much as we normally do in 2 weeks in this one go…) and picked up the wee fella from the nursery. And then went home and turned on the TV, watching further reports of the Fukushima power stations that had exploded, and the opinions of an army of experts telling the country that the situation was bad, but not apocalyptic.
I had calmed down somewhat by the time the mrs got home (it was, after all, only a funny 5 minutes, not 5 hours!) and it was time to talk about what exactly we were going to do. Being a nurse, and having family in Ibaraki (one of the areas hit by the tsunami, and in subsequent days closer to the nukes than comfort would allow as well) there was just no way that she was leaving, but we had the little man to think about as well. With a situation as unpredictable as it was, and with the general media, scare mongering or otherwise, reporting that radiation was leaking, buildings were exploding, and everything was far from control, we had to think about splitting the family up.
This was the hardest thing I have ever had to think about or do, and never want to have to put myself or my wife through anything like that again. But the fact remained, at the time, that with limited info on what was happening, we had to think about Shuma. In the end, we agreed to sleep on it. I spoke to a few friends in the area, all of whom very kindly agreed to give us space if we needed it, and I packed a bag for me and the boy, just in case it got worse. And then I had the worst sleep I’ve had in a while.
On the morning of the next day, Wednesday, the news was just spiraling out of control. There were reports of fire, of smoke, and of a lack of understanding as to why it was happening, and on top of that, radiation had been increasing outside as well. So I made the calls, and by 10am, after tearful goodbyes to the Mrs when she went to work, the wee fella and I were Kansai bound. And our family was now split up. That was hard work for me, hard work. I hated the idea of leaving, but the decision about my son’s safety was always the main thing.
Somehow, I managed to get a reserved seat on the bullet train to Kyoto, from Shin Yokohama station, by booking it at my local JR station. Which was good, because Shin Yokohama was a mess when I got there. I have never seen the station (or any shinkansen station for that matter) as busy as that. What struck me was that it was all families. There must have been hundreds of families doing the same thing as we were.
Shuma was, obviously for a 2 year old boy (it was his birthday the Monday before the quake!) almost totally oblivious to what was happening around him, and seemed, first of all, to love ever bit of going on the bullet train, watching the world zoom by, staring at Mt Fuji and having his nappy changed at 150mph. For me, there was a feeling of relief at getting away from the growing situation, but also the most profound worry I have ever felt, for my wife who stayed there, and weather or not she would be ok, or, in the very back of my mind, hoping that I didn’t need to worry about it, if my son and I would see her again.
The next 6 days were really just a blur. After Kyoto for a day (Thanks Ginge!) we headed to Osaka. I was originally going to be staying with George, but had a phone call while I was in Kyoto from another friend with a bigger place and a kid of their own (ie toys and a play mate for the boy) so we changed course to their place, and then watched everything unfold from there. What was really strange was that it seemed like I was in a different country. The quake was obviously news, but in the same way as the Indonesia quake was news in the UK. It felt like I was in a little Japanese bubble where the earthquake and nuclear reactor were things happening to other people. Strange.
The wee fella continued to take it all extremely well, though showed a little strain from time to time, especially at nap time and bed time, when (unusually for him) he refused to fall asleep unless he was stuck fast to me with his arms clamped firmly around my neck. Bearing in mind that normally he would push my face and tell me to get out back home, this was a fairly obvious change. Apart from that, he did well (I’ve a feeling new toys and plenty of sweets helped….)
And then, before we knew it, it was Monday the following week. I’d continued to keep in touch with work, as I had to be checking in on my staff every day to check their location and general safety (I am a manager, after all. It may come as a vague surprise to those who knew me well back home, but these days I actually have some responsibility!) and also had some access to other info (such as from the British Embassy) that suggested that we should be safe to go back home. Should be. Shuma was starting to miss Mummy by now (taking two crying filled hours to go to sleep the previous night) and I just wanted to get back as well, so, upping sticks for the third time, we made the journey back.
Unsurprisingly, the bullet train was very empty. This was good. It meant that Shuma and I could get good seats (by the door, extra leg room!) and two, instead of just the one that we had on the way there.
Arriving in Shin Yokohama was another strange experience. The calm that I had felt in Kansai evaporated as I returned to a darkened and quiet city, and the general worry permeating even Yokohama was felt easily. With this uneasy feeling, we arrived home, and I began the mundane task of preparing for work to start again the next day. It felt especially mundane as I had no real clue what I would be returning to, in terms of clients and ease of activity, but you can’t let it get to you……or at least try not to.
Since then, I’ve simply tried to get on with things. I found a dojo to practise in, and thankfully, with the European Championships around the corner, have gotten back on the horse (though recovering my lost fitness was a chore. The first couple of keiko back just wiped me out). I’ll write about my prep for the euros in a different entry.
Life in Tokyo has generally continued. The foreign press have calmed down a little bit now, and have gone back to reporting facts instead of creating the hysteria that they were responsible for in the week following the disaster. There are still things that make you sit up, such as the water scare that there was in Tokyo two weeks ago, or the lack of real transparent info on what is happening at the reactors in the north, other than it is very slowly but surely improving (though as I write this, the disaster rating has been raised to the maximum, 7, putting it on a par with Chernobyl….)
And even now, we still get regular reminders of the thing that started it all, the magnitude 9 earthquake on 11th March. Regular magnitude 6 and 7 earthquakes continue to strike the worst hit areas, Fukushima in particular. We have seen one big one every day this week. To put it into perspective, the Kobe earthquake in 1994 was a 7.3, and on Monday Fukushima was hit by a 7.4, and a 7.1 on Tuesday.
But like the title of the entry says, we just get on with it. Sure it’s scary as shit, but what can you do? Complain to your local MP? File a law suit? Yeah right. All you can do is get on with it.
