四番 Yonban

Did you know that there is a guy who just goes around filming Tegan and Sara concerts all around the world? He doesn't get paid or anything; he just does it because he loves them so much. And fortunately, I get to live vicariously through him on these bloody hot nights when I'm trying to refrain from using the air conditioner to conserve energy, because apparently Tokyo is just gonna blackout one day if I don't. So I decided that I might as well talk about the last part of EW and just get-er done.

Wednesday woke us with aftershocks, and I'm sure cracks such as "Aw, Hera, was that you?" were made (as of course we were sharing a futon at that point; isn't that cutie-cute?--but the point being, someone plausibly could have ripped one and disguised it as an earthquake). While still in a half-slumber, Hera received a phone call, and the tone of her voice freaked me out--but since some of it was in Korean, I didn't have a solid grip on what was being said, though I did know enough Korean to understand she was saying, "Mom!" in a bit of an anxious tone. My thoughts immediately went to the power plant situation, and my heart started racing as I wondered what it could be. She paused and turned to me and said, "My mom bought me a ticket to Korea." Recap: apparently Hera's mom had truly taken it to heart when she said she'd go if her mom bought the ticket; telling her, "Okay, I bought you the ticket; you're leaving this afternoon." I began to panic as I realized I would be alone.

While she began packing, I skyped my mom. Her radiation indifferent demeanor had fa

ded; when I told her Hera was leaving for Korea, she in turn told me she thought I needed to leave Tokyo. I told her I would look into places to go, after I got back to my own apartment. I decided it would be better to leave sooner rather than later; Hera told me she would come back when the situation blew over, whenever that would be. So as I left her place, I wondered when the next time I would see her would be. That was probably one of the scariest moments of the time; realizing that the situation was serious enough that people I knew where leaving.

Had it been any other spring day, the beautiful sunshine would have felt like a wonderful reprieve from the previous cold days of winter; but with the situation at hand, it just felt threatening. There was also an intensely forceful gust that would have been a threat to the Santa Ana winds; I struggled with keeping my rolling suitcase straight on the ground. The wind itself seemed terrifying; I wondered if it was carrying with it radioactive particles. When I got to my transfer station, I discovered that my next train line was shut down, so again I trudged towards my place with my suitcase in tow. On the way, I got a text from Beth, a friend who had been in training with Hera--she told me they were planning to leave Tokyo, and that I join them.

At my apartment, I decided to call my mom as soon as possible just to get an idea of where she recommended we go. However, her advice was limited--she told me that my uncle, who has had experience with nuclear weapons in the army, had strongly recommended that I leave the area. She reiterated the idea that the Japanese government might not be revealing everything about the situation; she told me that I had to leave, and that I had to leave soon. She added that I should take my computer and passport with me. After that, I packed in a heightened state of fear--I threw some stuff in my backpack, and tore up my apartment in an attempt to find my passport. After a mini breakdown, I finally found it, and I took off.

This time, as I hurried down the street, there was a greater urgency in my pace. The train itself was going about 1/3 the speed of normal--what should have been a 20 minute train ride took at least twice the time, which might have irritated me in normal conditions, but now sent m

y mind in an anxious flurry, as I literally felt as if I was racing against time to get out of town. I remember looking around my fellow train companions, wondering who was in the same state as me behind the stoic faces.

I finally arrived at Jamie's house to discover that Russell hadn't arrived yet, and so we waited to hear about his ETA with current train situation. Jamie apparently thought it would be a good idea to take the biggest suitcase on earth on our little evac-getaway, and he labored over whether to bring bathing suits and cans of tuna. He decided on both, and I told him I might have to borrow a shirt, as I realized I had only packed one pair of pants and some pajamas. That's when I discovered that the majority of his clothing happens to be plaid. Finally, after a tortuous waiting period, we decided that it would just be better to meet Russell at Tokyo station, and then all hop on a Shinkansen together to wherever seemed to be the cheapest and most affordable.

After arriving at the station and meeting with Russell, we decided that location would

be Kyoto. Mainly, this was due to the fact that not all of us had been there, and I knew a family friend lived nearby who might be willing to let us stay (though after a few very confusing phone calls to the woman, I realized I might have made a poor decision). Nevertheless, on the train ride there, Jamie found us a hotel room for the night for a reasonable price next to the station, and I felt a bit of tension slip away--really, just being on the train itself made me breathe easier, and I began to look forward to visiting the ancient city.

When we arrived in Kyoto, it almost felt like arriving in a foreign country. The city was much colder than Tokyo; in fact, as we began our walk to the hotel, it began to snow. It was a peaceful envelopment; and while I still felt uncertain of our current situation, it felt good to be away from the drama and on (quite literally) sturdy ground. The evening felt relaxing and almost carefree; considering none of us knew when we would return to our places or work.

That night, as we all settled in our hotel room, we began talking to family. That evening, we each contacted families in four different countries, and we all got the same reply--get out of Japan. I had been one of the last to talk to my family members, and therefore I didn't speak with my mom until just after 1, right before I was about to fall asleep. While I tried to reassure that I was entirely removed from the situation at the power plants, her information from my uncle was chilling: "They (the US army) think this is bigger than Japan. They think it's going to take 100 years to clean up. You really need to leave the country." The rest of the details of the conversation are a bit foggy to me. I remember hanging up the phone, then starting to shake. Beth asked what my mom had said; I kept trying to say something, but the words wouldn't really come out right. I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in anxiety, uncertain about what I should do, and where I would be tomorrow.

P.S. This is not the end of the saga, as I had originally predicted. Good grief, I will be writing about this forever.

三番 Sanban

Well, I guess it's time to tell the next part of the story.

The night of the earthquake, the ground was in constant motion, but I somehow managed to sleep quite thoroughly (perhaps the knowledge that friends and colleagues were stuck at offices and schools around Tokyo helped me to be appreciative of my own futon). I chatted online with Hera(one of the many stuck at work) and made plans to meet in the morning if/when the trains started running. We decided it was better not to be alone; because although the earthquake had been a bit scary, we were still kind of excited to have a Saturday off.

The trains started up, slowly and uncertainly; riding the train the next morning was a little spooky. Japanese trains are normally pretty quiet, but the air was clearly different now. Therewas a moment when a man's bag dropped from his lap, and all eyes sharply turned at the sudden movement. We hadn't even realized we were all on edge. I got to Hera's, where it was promptly decided that we would actually spend the night at Jamie's.

Once everyone was together, however, the mood was light, and we actually began to have a pretty good time drinking wine and eating take out from Pizza Hut. Jamie invited his Belgium friend over, and we stayed up until the wee hours drinking wine and watching L'Auberge Espagnole.

The next day was actually wonderful weather; only a few weeks earlier it had been snowing, but it had begun to look like spring. That being the case, we decided to make our way over to Yoyogi Park; taking the scenic route by walking from Shinjuku to Harajuku. Surprisingly (or maybe not? I'm not really sure what usually happens in these kinds of situations), the park was full of peopl

e in high spirits. So we joined them; climbing trees, hula-hooping, and the like.

Our merry-making prompted other foreigners to head our way, one woman bringing a batch of hula-hoops along with sexy instructions on how to use them (and she was very willing to give Jamie some helpful hints). We started a chat with some other people who wandered over. Two gaijin told us that they were planning on leaving Japan that week. They told us that they didn't believe the Japanese were being completely forthright in the situation at the power plant. That was the first moment that I felt the uncomfortable feeling of fear dropping in my stomach. Of course I had heard some information about what was happening at the power plant; but honestly, it hadn't seemed like that big of a deal. Still, I brushed it off and decided to have a fun day. That night, Hera came over, because I told her that I had cleaned my apartment after the earthquake in the possibility that my coworkers had to spend the night. She said that sight of my clean apartment was an occasion to come over, but when she got there, her reply was, "You were going to let your coworkers stay here like this??"

The next morning, I began looking at more information, but by all logical accounts, the situation was far removed from me. I remember thinking how far Fukushima seemed at 250 kilometers; one of my friends from training worked there, and he had only come down to Tokyo once since going up there. When I talked with my mom that morning, the power plant situation came up; however, even though I began with the reassurances of distance, she didn't seem to be worried. That in turn made me feel relieved as well, and I even felt a little proud of my mom--Hera's mom was beyond worried and had asked Hera to come home--to which Hera replied, "Sure, if you want to buy the ticket."

After that, Hera and I decided to get try and get kaitensushi that afternoon (try being the key word, as so many places were still closed).Because of the unreliability of the trains, we decided to walk to a nearby train station instead of transferring trains. But when we got there, the other line was closed off completely--I didn't even know they could close up the station in the way they did.

So we decided to try walking to the sushi place--though I should mention that we were dressed

a little fancy due to my desire to have a bit of a photo safari to add excitement to the day. We definitely got a few stares; one very, very old truck driver saw us me lift the hem of my dress to take pictures, and motioned his encouragement for me to go farther with my lifting. Finally, we made it to our destination--and it was open!! The lights were half off, and the sushi selection was limited, but everything we wanted was available, so we clapped our hands in glee and ate!

After our meal, we took the bus back to Shiki. On the bus, I got a call from manager asking, "Can you come into work tomorrow?" I assured her I would be there; Hera had likewise received a call from her manager; however, her manager had informed her that wh

ile we had to come in, lessons were cancelled for the day.

We had been trying to decide where we would spend the afternoon when we arrived back in Shiki, knowing that where ever we ended up would be where we spent the night. With the possibility of a group larger than 3 people, we decided the best place would be to go back to Jamie's, so we headed to Akabane.

We met our friend Beth at the station, and we headed to Seiyu

(Japan's Wal-Mart) for supplies. However, the sight of the store was fairly shocking--while it was crowded with people, it definitely was not crowded with food. Empty shelves wrapped around the store, barren except for a strange green tea. After we left the store, I had some bad luck--my camera fell out of my backpack, and my lens broke. I felt like a gloomy mood had begun to settle.

The next day, I left Jamie's early to ensure that if train schedules were wonky, I could still make it in time. I didn't need to worry, though--even though the platform across from me had a line way beyond the staircase leading up to it (for those going in the direction of Tokyo), mine was clear and a train came fast. I had just enough time to change into some clothes and head in, barely having time to read the news that radiation had made its way to Tokyo and Saitama, though at levels that were said not to be harmful to humans.