RheAnn in Japan

2PM March 12, 2011

(nearly 24 hours after the initial 8.9 mag earthquake)

Things here in Yokohama are calming.  After my last blog, I experienced two more earthquakes--MUCH smaller than the one that spurred the tsunami--and several small aftershocks.  Around 6AM, I finally managed to fall asleep and I rested for about 5 hours on and off.

Waking up, I felt dread.  I knew that daybreak would have shed light on the vastness and horror of yesterday's catastrophe and would awaken in me a sense of helplessness, not unlike what millions of people around the world must be experiencing as they watch the news.

I feel driven to assist, but unsure of how to be the most helpful.

I realized after sitting with this discomfort for several minutes that "help" is not merely something one can do in order to make themselves feel better.  Would I be a hero if I traveled to Miyagi or Fukushima or would I merely want to FEEL like a hero?

No, that is not the place for me.  That is not where I can be of use right now.  It is frustrating, but I don't yet know WHAT I can do.  I have CPR and first aid training and have done search and rescue as a volunteer in Colorado, but with weak Japanese language skills and lack of transportation, I would become more of a burden to the process than a blessing.

So like many others...I must wait.

God's timing is beyond our understanding, but I have learned (and re-learned) to trust it.  I knew by the way everything came together for me to come here to Japan that I was meant to be here for some tremendous purpose.  Perhaps this horrific tragedy is just that.

Today I will clean my house and make it ready to host a displaced family...just in case there is a family who wants to stay with me.  (I have plenty of space, plenty of futons, and plenty of nurture.)

Today I will begin to organize my mind around the possibility of a mission trip to the devastated area in the late spring or summer.  I'm sure many church members, foreign residents, and university students are hoping to assist.

Today I will pray for people I know who have been unable to contact family members and friends in the tsunami's path and for the thousands of people I DON'T know who have lost much and been deeply traumatized.

And today, I will practice a very deep kind of compassion and a very real kind of trust.  I will not feel guilty, feeling that I should be doing "more."  Instead I will stay as connected to the suffering as possible and will open and open and open myself to any possibility to directly help my neighbors in the north.  God will make the plan known to me when the time is right.

I must retain faith and hope.

There is a worldwide tapestry of love draped around Japan now.  I am part of it...and I am in it.

Amazing.

3:05 AM March 12, 2011

(just over 12 hours since Japan's 8.9 mag earthquake)

I'm still awake.


There haven't been any major aftershocks for over an hour. (There have been so many that I have decided to gauge what I call "major" by how much my ceiling light swings. If it doesn't swing too much, I am deciding not to worry about it.)


This is important because each aftershock feels exactly like the earthquakes did when they started, so my whole body goes on alert wondering, "Is it happening again?" But if it isn't "major," I'm calming down faster.


The quake:

I was teaching my class at Asahi Mission Point in Seya Ward near Tsurugamine Station.

Four of my five students were present--one after an extended absence, so we were very jovial and enjoying being together. We were actually discussing my new interactive Q&A project with supporters from the US. I have asked people to submit simple but interesting "icebreaker" type questions for my students and then I share my students' responses on my RheAnn in Japan Facebook page. Today's question was about our favorite foods, so we were actually having a conversation when the earthquake started. We were talking about American foods (KFC and McDonald's) and Japanese foods (tofu and natto.)


The classroom is located on the second floor of the church. The downstairs sanctuary area is used during the week as a daycare for elderly people. Today there were about 8 elders and about 6 staff attending.

At first, my students and I felt some swaying. We stopped talking and all felt that it would be over in a matter of seconds...but it wasn't. The swaying turned into jerking and almost bouncing. It was very rapid and very loud. Everything seemed to be rattling--the windows, the walls, the streets. One of my students grabbed her phone. Her 8 year old son was home alone. As she called him, the shaking grew even more violent and the power went out. Another student opened a window just a crack and then we all 5 dove under the small table. I was squeezing the hands of two of my students, one of whom kept saying "Daijyobu" ("Okay") over and over. I'm not sure if she was trying to comfort me or herself. Again, we thought it must be about to stop...but it didn't. This intense rocking went on for several minutes. By the end, I was in tears.

It went on so long, it seemed like there was no way we could actually be fine when it was over...but we were. After the first quake, we all ran and put on our shoes and headed downstairs. My student left to try to get home to her son. Another student got on her phone to check the news. The rest of us went in to check on the elders. "Relax!" they told us, "We're okay."

There were so many aftershocks. One was strong enough to scare us back under the table, at which point, above the trembling, I heard one student said, "Idaho burger!!" and we all laughed remembering the casual and fun conversation we'd been having only minutes before.

We could not continue our class. Stores were closed. The trains had stopped and traffic was starting to mount.

I stayed at the church with no way home for about an hour. I had tea and watched the news with the elders and updated my Facebook so that no one would be worrying too much about me.

The church was not damaged--only some minor cracks in the paint that chipped and fell in the stairway. My apartment was fine too. Things were strewn about, but not much worse than usual. (I'm a terrible housekeeper.) Really, it is a testament to Japan's dedication to earthquake preparedness. The building codes here are VERY strict and all newer buildings are built to withstand an earthquake. I'm positive an 8.9 elsewhere would have leveled several homes and buildings.

The tsunami:

The tsunami hit almost immediately. There was no time to evacuate. This causes me to be very afraid of what will be found come daybreak. Already there are reports that 300 bodies have washed up.

Fortunately for those of us in Yokohama, we are in a bay area and are not physically affected by this aspect of the catastrophe. We are all, of course, incredibly worried about what has and is happening north of us.

That I even made it home is quite the miracle. Many of my friends here are stranded in their schools or workplaces or are staying with other friends because it is impossible to get home. In fact, I received a phone call at 2AM from a friend who had just arrived BACK at his office after 5 hours in a car trying to get home. He and his coworker ultimately ended up parking the car beside the road and walking 20 minutes, so my guess is that many people are still stuck on the roads tonight.

Convenience stores that were able to reopen have rapidly sold out of food because everything else has closed and people are hungry and displaced.

Even I am lacking food right now. I brought my eco-bags with me to class today. Today my students were to have given presentations on the values of "good and evil" in Japanese culture. OBVIOUSLY, no one gave a presentation today. After class, I planned to go to the beach and watch the sunset (as part of my Lenten commitment to spend one purposeful hour in nature every day.) OBVIOUSLY that plan had to be revised! After the beach, I was going to take my bags to the store and buy some groceries! But because things had fallen and/or COULD fall (because of the aftershocks), my stores were all closed, so OBVIOUSLY I had to make do.

It has been hard to calm down. I've thought, "What can I do to relax?" The things I would normally do just won't work tonight. "Oh, I'll have some tea." ...No. It isn't safe to use my gas stove. "Oh, I'll light some candles and have a bath." ...No. Candles are a definite no-no during earthquakes, plus do I really want to be naked if I need to run out of my house? ;)

As frightened as I was and as uneasy as I am, there are some truths I must share about my experience:

1. I am lucky--truly, truly blessed. When the shaking stopped and I saw that we were fine, I said, "Thank God." I have never meant those words more than I did in that moment.

2. There are much worse conditions not all that far away from here. There must be a way that God will use me to aid those who have suffered, so I must pray for courage to find and accomplish whatever it is I'm needed to do.

3. I am loved and well cared for. The responses on Facebook are overwhelming. I know that I am enveloped by the prayers of so many friends, loved ones, and supporters. That is tremendously comforting.

Okay, it is nearly 3:30 AM and I will be of no use to anyone if I don't try to get some sleep now.

I suspect there will be aftershocks throughout the night, but hopefully nothing that causes my light to swing too much. :)

Help:

I will find out this weekend exactly what is needed and let you know.




Goodnight.

Love,

Your shaken up missionary in Japan,
RheAnn