With all of the commotion in Japan, some of my loyal reader (singular) might want an update on our situation. First off, we're safe at home in Imabari, which wasn't really affected by the quake or the tsunami. Now that that's out of the way, here's how I saw it unfold.
At about 2:20 yesterday, I finished teaching my final class of the day and went back to the staff room to study kanji characters. While I was plugging away, a call came in telling us that there had just been a massive earthquake in northern Japan, and that we should turn on the news for more information. I was so wrapped up in my study that I didn't really notice what was going on. I had heard about an earthquake in Japan sometime in the last week, so I figured the images that were being shown on TV was archive footage.
My desk is across the room from the TV, so I couldn't hear all the details, but I could see from headlines and subtitles that it was actually more recent. The few teachers that were with me in the staff room surmised that the magnitude was probably somewhere in the 6.0-7.0 range on the Richter scale. I pricked up my ears--knowing that such an earthquake could potentially be very serious--and opened my web browser to get more information. At this point, they were reporting a magnitude of 7.9.
To put such force in perspective, the Kobe quake of 1995 which claimed over 6000 lives and caused over $100 billion in damage was measured between 6.8 and 7.2. The Richter scale has a logarithmic base of 10, meaning that for every 1 point increase, the amplitude of the seismic waves is actually ten times greater. The amplitude of a 7.9 quake is 10 times higher than that of a 6.9 quake.
Yesterday's quake has actually been measured at 8.9, meaning that its amplitude was actually 100 times that of a 6.9 quake. The direct damage from earthquake was somewhat mitigated by the fact that the epicenter of the quake was 80-some miles off the coast of Japan, whereas the Kobe quake was about 12 miles from Kobe. While the earthquake damage doesn't look to be as bad as that of the Kobe quake, we still don't understand the extent of the damage caused by the resulting tsunami, which has frankly been the most terrifying part of the whole ordeal (I say this having not experienced the earthquake firsthand).
Back in the staff room, we started to get a picture of the sheer force released by the earthquake. NHK's live feed showed the scene in Iwate prefecture, where cars slowly drifted alongside boats. Warnings of a tsunami over thirty feet high started popping up for various prefectures, and the tension in our office started to build up. The number of people glued to the TV grew as each teacher came back from class, until about thirty people crowded the front area of the staff room.
Worry and concerned curiosity quickly turned to horror as the live feed switched to a helicopter shot of Sendai, where a monstrous wave of debris swept cars, trucks, and houses away, each becoming a new part of an increasingly dangerous wall of unstoppable destruction. Stifled shouts of "Oh, no!" and "This is horrible!" bounced around the staff room as cars and trucks attempting to outrun the reckless wave vanished in an instant. The drivers didn't stand a chance. I can't shake the image of a man standing on the high point of a raised road, on the back of a flat-bed semi truck, pacing back and forth as the tsunami approaches. It seemed to slightly change course at the last minute, possibly sparing the man's life. The TV station cut to a different camera before we could see what happened.
As I watched the peaceful farmland of Sendai disappear as it was engulfed by the tsunami, I couldn't help but notice how similar it looked to the fields and homes of Imabari, by which I ride my bike on my daily commute to work. Some teachers wondered aloud if the waves en route to Imabari were big enough to reach us at the school. Tsunami warnings were issued for pretty much the whole country, though Ehime prefecture didn't seem to be as high on the list as other places. Still, even a 2 meter wave could wreak all sorts of havoc out here. One of the teachers mentioned that the tsunami might hit us here a little after 5 PM. It was 4:15.
My thoughts turned to my family. What would we do if the waves did reach us? I had to go.
The front exit, through which I usually leave each day after saying goodbye, was so congested with people watching the TV that I slipped out the back exit without saying a word, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I raced home as fast as I could, with strong winds opposing me all the way home on my 30 minute commute. I told myself that everything would be fine, but resolved to get home and prepare my family. As I approached my apartment I realized that there had been ample time for warning, yet there were no signs that anything was amiss. Did all these people driving around have any idea what was going on, or did that mean that we were safe?
When I got home at 4:45, I got on the computer at once to check the reports and see if we had to make any plans. The Japanese web sites said that Ehime could expect the tsunami to hit at around 6:20, though it wouldn't even be a meter high by that point. I breathed a little easier, but couldn't pull myself away from the news. Who knows if an aftershock might trigger something else that affects us more directly?
What would I do in that case? I've had a bit of time today to think about how I can prepare for such an emergency. I need to make those preparations while the image of this disaster is still fresh in my mind. We basically have our TV unplugged here, so we don't get the news. If we did need to evacuate, who would tell us? We don't have smart phones or any other way to stay updated when we're out and about. I'd imagine that the majority of the people whose lives have been taken in this disaster either didn't know about the coming tsunami, didn't have enough time to prepare, or didn't take the tsunami warnings seriously enough.
We're lucky to have not been affected much by this. These people, swallowed by a tsunami in the blink of an eye, had their own lives. They each had their own quirks and talents, their own friends and family, their own goals and dreams. And now they're gone, leaving a hole in the hearts and lives of the people who are left scrambling for any information as to their whereabouts.
As soon as I was pretty confident that we'd be safe, I posted messages to Facebook in anticipation of the flood of calls or e-mails we might receive. It really does mean a lot to me that our friends and family thought of us when they heard about the disaster. I'm happy to report that we're fine. But many people still haven't heard from their family members in Japan. We appreciate the thoughts and prayers from everybody, but please don't forget to include those truly affected by this catastrophe. I'm sure they can use any monetary donations we all can muster. I hope and pray that that man who stood on the back of that truck made it out OK--for the sake of him and all those who love him.
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