KAZO, Saitama Prefecture--For more than 100 mostly elderly evacuees here, life at their shelter is anything but comfy. And yet, they are loathe to return to their "ideal" lives.
KAZO, Saitama Prefecture--For more than 100 mostly elderly evacuees here, life at their shelter is anything but comfy. And yet, they are loathe to return to their "ideal" lives.
Instead, they want to spend what time is left to them in the company of their new-found friends.
In a nutshell, the sole remaining evacuation center set up after the March 2011 earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disaster has become a "second home" for many of the occupants.
The evacuees here are from the town of Futaba, which lies within a stone's throw of the crippled Fukushima No. 1 nuclear power plant in Fukushima Prefecture.
In the aftermath of the nuclear disaster, some 2,000 temporary shelters were set up across Japan.
But all except one, in Kazo, Saitama Prefecture, have been closed as temporary housing was developed.
Even after the town office moved back to Iwaki, Fukushima Prefecture, on June 17, 109 evacuees from Futaba are still living in a building of a former prefectural high school in Kazo.
Hideko Hayashi, 81, rises at 5 a.m. daily in a lecture room on the second floor of the school gym.
Her "home" is a 17-square-meter space. A thin partition of corrugated cardboard standing 1 meter high separates her from her neighbor. Hayashi created a simple chest of drawers and a shoe box using cardboard.
Evacuees share the school restrooms and a makeshift bathroom.
"If you think inconvenience is nothing special, lives here are pleasant," said Hayashi. "To dream of an ideal life only causes pain to me."
A woman in her 70s occupies another space beyond the cardboard partition. Until last year, the lecture room was divided into four and three men were also living there.
Tokyo Electric Power Co., operator of the crippled Fukushima No. 1 nuclear power plant, pays a monthly sum of 120,000 yen ($1,208) in consolation, which, along with a modest state pension, allows Hayashi to get by.
Although Hayashi does not need to pay rent or utility bills, the cost of meals comes out of her own pocket.
She usually stocks up at a local supermarket or buys food items at a nearby convenience store while out walking.
Because gas is not supplied, Hayashi uses induction heating to cook vegetables and other ingredients.
More than 1,000 volunteers are pitching in to support the lives of the evacuees.
For example, working with volunteers, a 67-year-old woman opened a small restaurant near the school last autumn to provide relatively inexpensive meals to the evacuees.
According to the Futaba town government, most of the evacuees are over 50 and were forced by the nuclear disaster to live away from their families. The average age of the evacuees is 68.
Though some of them have jobs and are working, 30 people there require nursing care.
A survey in May by the town government showed that of all 113 respondents, 86 former residents of Futaba have no place to live other than the shelter.
Until the disaster, Hayashi lived alone in a detached house near the sea, and grew flowers and vegetables on her property. Her husband died 10 years ago.
Immediately after the nuclear disaster, Hayashi moved to Kanagawa Prefecture and stayed with relatives. But at the advice of a public health nurse, she moved to the evacuation shelter in January 2012.
Because of high radiation levels around her home, located less than 1 kilometer from the plant, Hayashi is barred from returning until at least four years from now.
The rented apartment in Fukushima Prefecture occupied by her eldest son and his wife is too small. This means Hayashi has to live alone.
The eldest son advised her to move to a vacant temporary dwelling in the prefecture, but she rejected the idea on grounds no family members live nearby.
"I do not want to live in solitude," said Hayashi at the time.
The school in Kazo has become her second home. The local rustic landscape is similar to that of her hometown, she added.
Hayashi hopes she will stay in the city with those she has befriended there, after the shelter is inevitably closed. To date, Hayashi and her friends have not found an alternative place to live together after they are forced to leave the school premises.
Twenty-five town officials, including a public health nurse, work in the evacuation shelter.
"Things are being done back to front," said Shinichi Ikuta, the 65-year-old head of the residents' association. "The town is doing things the wrong way round to force the evacuees out of here even though they have nowhere else to live."
The town government seems to be in no rush to close the shelter for precisely the reason cited by Ikuta.
"It is difficult to tell the evacuees that they have to leave the shelter,” said Futaba's mayor, Shiro Izawa.
The mayor of Kazo, Ryoichi Ohashi, said maximum efforts will be made to allow the evacuees to continue to live in his city.
"It is us who have benefited from nuclear plants," said Ohashi, 66. "To my way of thinking, we have to support the evacuees until they regain smiles on their faces again."
The city government placed tatami mats on the floor of the school to give the space a more homey feeling. It also sought the advice of the Japan Medical Association to prevent infectious diseases.
It intends to accord them with the same level of respect due any citizen with regard to public welfare and opportunities for self-improvement.
Ohashi has also called on the central government to implement steps that will allow the evacuees to return to pick up the threads of their lives as soon as possible.
"The school is not housing," said Ohashi. "I hope the central government will consider its responsibility and offer places that will allow the evacuees to have a relaxing existence as soon as possible."
The Saitama prefectural government is also weighing whether to prepare rented apartments and other accommodation for the evacuees near Kazo.