Coping in Japan

Coping in Japan and Where an American Volunteer Fits In When I first applied for an internship through the Reischauer Institute, I was looking to work with an organization or business on issues involving climate change and renewable energy. In February 2011, I was tentatively placed with Tokyo Gas, the largest supplier of natural gas in Japan. While I still had to complete an interview with Tokyo Gas before my assignment would be finalized, I was confident that it would come together. One month later, on March 11, 2011, at 2:46pm, a 9.0 magnitude earthquake hit mainland Japan. In Tokyo, building swayed as they resisted the immense strength of a quake with an epicenter almost 500 kilometers away. In areas closer to the epicenter, coastal towns and cities in the northeast prefectures, the ramifications of the earthquake were devastating. At 3:12pm, the first of a series of “major tsunamis” hit the city of Kamaishi in Iwate Prefecture (Japan Meteorological Agency). From 3:12pm to 4:52pm, seven more tsunamis with heights exceeding the maximum readings of the Japan Meteorological Agency (3 meters) were recorded in cities in Miyagi and Iwate. In the areas most affected by the tsunamis, residents only had fifteen minutes after a government issued local tsunami warning to seek higher ground. Many of these areas had virtually no warning for the earthquake itself. After years of claiming to be the most earthquake-ready nation in the world, Japan was now faced with two crises: the displacement of nearly 400,000 people in tsunami-devastated areas and a nuclear meltdown in Fukushima. With 15,451 deaths and 7,692 missing (National Police Agency of Japan), the events of 3/11 quickly became the most expensive natural disaster in Japan’s history, both fiscally and in terms of human life. After the devastating events of 3/11, Tokyo Gas withdrew their offer for internship as it focused on recovering its financial state. Internship-less, I looked at volunteer organizations working in the Tohoku region. I was hoping to find work in urban planning, environmental work, and clean up efforts. The Reischauer Institute then placed me with Grace City Relief, a first responder volunteer organization that worked in Ishinomaki. Upon speaking to my advisor, Junko Kim, I began to form an idea of what I may be doing. I imagined that I would focus on debris cleanup and construction, two things that the Japanese and American news had highlighted in their reports. I assumed that the Jieitai (Internal Forces) were supplying food, water, and basic resources. I arrived in Tokyo, and was immediately put to work with another volunteer organization, Tsukuda Loves Tohoku (TLT). TLT is a local group in Tsukishima, Tokyo that collects household items, bicycles, and food (Busshi) to send to Ishinomaki. A truck goes up north every weekend, and volunteers take requests from the survivors as to what goods TLT will collect the next week. TLT also takes on individual requests, sending specific goods in boxes taped with a survivor’s name. Because TLT makes an effort to fit the needs of each individual, oftentimes the operation is very slow and tedious. As I made phone calls and sent emails to the survivors, I could not help but feel like I had signed up for a postal delivery service. When I spoke to the survivors, I felt like a salesperson speaking to a consumer. Position of power in a conversation is a trait that is unique to the Japanese language, and I noticed that I always spoke from a lower level than the survivor. I would apologize profusely for goods that had not arrived, goods that would be considered commodities in the US, and I would take requests from the survivors that seemed completely unrealistic (Blueray DVD players, cars). After two weeks of only working with TLT, I began to lose sight of my role as a volunteer, and I began to regret coming to Japan to work on relief work. Further, I felt that the work that was being done by TLT and Grace City Relief, among other groups, was unnecessary given the work that the Jieitai and Japanese government I assumed were undertaking. In reality, however, the goods that may seem like amenities and luxuries are actually crucial to the emotional health of the survivors. Furthermore, I found out that the Jieitai were only distributing the bare necessities for survival. Each survivor would only receive a few onigiri (rice balls) or bread rolls a day. Evidently, even three months after the earthquake, efforts in the Tohoku region still had not completely transitioned from relief to recovery. With over 300,000 people still living in hinanjos (shelters) and temporary housing, frustration and anger towards the cruel twist in fate and a failing government was beginning to replace the hopeful spirit that amazed the world immediately following the earthquake. Life in a hinanjo means no privacy and frequently a lack of basic resources, such as potable water. Survivors sleep on hard floors in elementary school gyms, many times next to complete strangers. Families are often separated into several areas and, because people are constantly placed in and out of them, there is no constancy in hinanjos. Even as survivors shift from life in a hinanjo to one in temporary housing, oftentimes the rooms are overcrowded and inaccessible to the elderly and those with special needs. And yet these living conditions are not the most critical obstacle that survivors face. After spending three weeks researching for and working with several non-profit organizations, I learned that the loss of family, homes, employment, and any kind of consistency in their lives is causing more emotional damage to the survivors in Tohoku now than when the earthquake first hit Japan. As food, water, and shelter became increasingly available, the survivors had more time to recount the events of 3/11 and think about the security of their futures (or lack thereof). As people shifted from survival to reflection, grief for lost family members and concerns for finding new sources of income became increasingly significant in hinanjos. Beginning in late May 2011, emotional and psychological first aid, in addition to a constannt inflow of goods and volunteers for clean-up, became crucial in the Tohoku region. As I began my work with Grace City Relief (GCR) in the third week of my internship, I was told to begin focusing more on the emotional state of the survivors. After taking a course on Psychological First Aid, offered through AmeriCorps and the United Nations, the GCR team scheduled many events for the survivors over July and August, the two hottest and therefore most dangerous months of the year. The team then put me in charge of a flower-planting project in a temporary housing location, along with another volunteer coordinator, Virginia Lavallee. We named the project Flower Power, and with only one week to plan for one of GCR’s biggest events, we began to call local and international NPOs and horticultural associations to gain support. On July 8th, Virginia and I went up to Ishinomaki in an empty 2-ton truck. The two of us then stopped by Green Thumb, the local plant store in Hebita, Ishinomaki, and bought three hundred households’ worth of sunflowers, morning glories, marigolds, eggplants, cucumbers, and tomatoes. The idea of the project was to have the survivors plant the vegetables and flowers, to bring life to the temporary housing located on a barren strip of pavement next to an elementary school destroyed by the tsunami. We encouraged our volunteers to listen to the survivors’ stories; we wanted our team to be an outlet for the survivors’ emotions. On July 9th, our team of 30 volunteers went to Mangokuura Kasetsu Jutaku and began planting. It was one of the first days of Mousho (extreme heat), and the volunteers, the survivors, and the plants quickly became dehydrated. The weather forecast had said rain all day, so this was completely unexpected and we only had enough water for the plants. After eight hours under the hot sun in 35 C heat, we were finally finished. All 104 homes in Mangokuura had 6 plants each. The survivors were extremely appreciative, and GCR now has an ongoing relationship with the leaders there. A week later, we found out that the eggplants bloomed. Flower Power was my last big project with Grace City Relief. After July 9th, I focused more on research for the organization and shifted away from logistics. What I hope I contributed to GCR and TLT is a different perspective to their volunteer work; one from a person who is immersed in both Japanese and American cultures. In the Tohoku Region, I hope that I made a positive impact. However, I still wonder if I did the right things, asked the right questions, and responded correctly when I spoke to the survivors. Furthermore, as Virginia and I led the group of volunteers, many of whom were not Japanese, I never explained the “Japanese” way of speaking to survivors. The Inter-Agency Standing Committee of the United Nations (IASC), a group that coordinates humanitarian assistance in areas affected by natural disasters and war, asserts that volunteers can either make a positive or negative impact in the community in need; never a neutral one. If this is the case, many of the foreign volunteers in Tohoku are in fact leaving a negative impact there. Because many go to Tohoku without a full understanding of Japanese culture, with all of its apparent and subtle differences from American culture, they volunteer in a foreign manner that is frequently offensive to the Japanese people. Further, the Tohoku region is, in and of itself, very different from standard “Japanese” culture, with dialects and mannerisms that even Japanese people have a hard time understanding. It is reasonable that foreign volunteers have trouble providing emotional care in Tohoku, but it is also the volunteer’s responsibility to be accustomed to, or at the least acknowledge, the different culture there. It is when volunteers become uncomfortable, or feel this language barrier, that they utilize foreign volunteering mannerisms. The fact of the matter is many of the survivors in the hinanjos and shelters- despite living in extremely uncomfortable conditions- are undergoing natural recovery. Natural recovery is the theory that most survivors of disasters and wars will recover emotionally and psychologically without any specialized assistance. Contrary to common belief, the vast majority of the tsunami victims will survive with no long-term mental disorder. Emotional trauma does not always constitute emotional disorder. The IASC reports that only two to three percent of the survivors will need specialized care to recover. Ultimately, survivors do not need a counselor or therapist. All they need are people who will quietly listen to them and the stories they tell.