On March 11, 2011, Tokiwagi was having the last day of finals before spring vacation. My class, the second year International Class students, were having the Classical Japanese and Health tests. Instead of subjecting myself to two hours of test in full kanji, who's questions and subject matter were completely over my head, I went and played around in the computer lab and studied some Japanese.
We were let out early, before lunch time, so after homeroom I grabbed the stuff I would need for the weekend and went home.
I was planning to meet a friend in the afternoon at Sendai Station, so I hung out at my house, took a shower, changed, then walked to Kita-Yobancho Station and boarded the subway for Sendai Station.
I got there, got some money from the post office ATM and began walking to the AER Building just on the north-west side of the station. I got the green light to walk across the street towards Maruzen Bookstore on the bottom floor and began to walk. As I was walking, I felt kind of sick to my stomach, like when you start going over a hill on a roller coaster. I thought I was going to faint. I didn't want to conk out in the middle of the street, so I quickly ran across. That's when I first heard it and looked; the traffic lights were just rattling and shaking. Everything was. I've never seen anything like it in my entire life. The first thought that came into my head was, "Oh shit."
Luckily the Sendai Rotary Club and my host families had well prepared me for such disasters, giving me multiple pamphlets and guides on earthquake and tsunami survival, which I had all read. When the earthquake began, I knew I shouldn't be right in front of a building, because of the possibility of falling debris, so I quickly ran into the four-way intersection between the AER and the Ichibancho Shopping Arcade.
At first about twenty others ran into the street with me. Soon some crossing guards started to herd everyone else off the sidewalks and into the streets to get them away from the buildings too.
No one knew what to do. We just all stood in the middle of the street looking around while the earth continued to shake violently. These are one of the few situations where you feel completely helpless. You can always sit down, hid under a table, but really you just have to wait it out. Just deal with the long agonizing wait.
When an earthquake comes, a warning text comes to all the phones, giving off a blaring siren and vibrating. It must of come only seconds before the earthquake struck, because I only saw it on my phone after. The warning system is incredible high tech though. Areas like Tokyo had a full minute warning. It also gave Sendai a 35 min. warning for the tsunami.
The movements got stronger quick. You could see the road heave and swell. Some women began to sit down and soon others were thrown to the ground. I had to step back and keep my footing, standing like I do on the public bus when it's about to take a turn. I just looked around me, watching the 31 floor AER swaying slowly from side to side, an old man clutching a twenty-something year old boy who was sitting with his bike in the middle of the road, a girl with blond dyed hair, a mini skirt, and thigh highs, holding her small dog, who was shaking uncontrollably. One woman had clearly run out of the hair salon, because she still was wearing the cape and had dye all over her roots. Looking down the Ichibancho Shopping Arcade, you could see people running off the street. It slowly began to clear out, until it was completely empty.
It went on for about five minutes. I didn't think. I was just taking everything in. My senses were on edge. Adrenaline was running through my entire body. I just kept looking up and around, hoping AER's hundreds of glass windows wouldn't break and fall on us.
Soon the force of the earthquake began to slow down and then stopped. Everyone seemed to just stay where they were, glued in place. After some debate I decided to head into the Maruzen bookstore and wait there. The destruction in the store was unbelievable: thousands of books were thrown off the shelves, a small store near the entrance that had perfumes and incense had tons of broken glass that were being swept to the side by workers. I just got in the door when an aftershock came. I sat down near the entrance with about seven other women and waited. A young woman kneeling next to me grabbed my arm and said, "Sorry." I laughed and told her it was okay. I understood her feelings. To be honest, I wanted to grab onto someone too. Even when the aftershock ended, we stayed where we were and waited. I looked in the corner of the store and saw a costumer, who had taken a small panel of wood from a display and was wearing it like a hat to protect her head from falling debris. The young woman woman who was holding my arm saw her too. We both looked at each other and started to laugh. I think we were all looking for someway to relieve the tension. The other women curiously looked at us and smiled, not understanding our joke. Through the aftershocks, I talked a little with the other women. We all agreed how scary the earthquake had been. I told them that it was my first big earthquake. They said it was their first big one too. What I didn't yet realize was that this was one of the biggest earthquakes in centuries. No one alive today had ever felt something this huge. It was a first time for all of us.
Some Maruzen employees then herded us into the middle of the store with others. They escorted people to the bathroom, got them water, and hand warmers when it began getting cold, because the electricity was out and the Maruzen doors stayed open (a rule of earthquake survival if you need a quick escape). This is when I began emailing my friends and host families, responding to emails about my condition and asking if everyone was okay. Calls wouldn't go through, and texting was kind of spotty; sometimes it would work, sometimes it wouldn't, but I usually had to wait awhile for it to get sent out. I didn't have the cell phone addresses of my host father or sister, so I just emailed my host mother, telling her I was alright, hoping she would relay the message. Some friends out of the city emailed me, asking if the tsunami waves were reaching me. I thought that was a ridiculous notion and told them no. Sendai Station was about 7 miles in from the coast. The tsunami came in about 5 miles. I didn't learn about the destruction it had caused until a couple of days later, when I was finally able to see the news. I was just as surprised by the extent of damage as everyone else back in Minnesota was.
I sat with tens of others for awhile. I kept thinking, "If there was a time to start drinking, I think now would be it." It also seemed like everybody had somebody: friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, parents, co-workers. I was just by myself. I'm usually a more introverted person, but if there was ever a time where I really wanted someone there with me, that was it. A worker at Maruzen gave an announcement that things were alright and we should all try to relax. I actually had a short outburst of laughter. "Now, relax? That's a good one."
After emailing my friend Duda, a Brazilian Rotary exchange student, I found out that she was also in Maruzen! After some texting, we finally found each other. She had been in Maruzen looking at cards when the earthquake hit. She then quickly knelled and huddled with three old Japanese women around a pillar.
I have to admit that I was probably in one of the best places when this 9.0 magnitude earthquake hit. The only place better would of been a park, or school's soccer field. It's best to be outside in an open area; you don't have to deal with falling debris, or the terrorizing situation of having everything falling around you. The worst place would be a tall, old building; old buildings weren't built with as good of technology. They take the earth's movements a lot harder. To be in a building like that, with shelves, pictures, books, everything, thrown off the walls would be a horrific experience. Although a tsunami isn't much better.
We went to the atrium of AER and waited there for a bit, talking. Some foreigners came up and talked to us, even offering us a ride home since all the trains and subways were out. Duda and I thought we would be okay, so we respectfully declined. A heavy snow began falling in Sendai. People now entering AER had heavy a dusting of snow on their head and shoulders. Heavy snow is usually unusual in Sendai, but for it to come in this amount, this late in the season was. . . untimely.
After waiting together in the atrium through some of the aftershocks, which were frequent, sometimes only minutes apart, we decided it was time to move on. My host mother was in Tokyo at the time, and my host father and host sister, Saori, both worked at Tokiwagi. Since I knew probably no one would be home, and I definitely wasn't going home by myself, I decided to go with Duda, who was going to visit her host mother's boutique.
The streets and sidewalks were crowded. There was heavy traffic on the roads, moving slowly, and huge numbers of pedestrians. Lines for the buses went all the way to the end of the block, since it was the only mode of public transportation that still worked. People's cars were stuck in Sendai's vertical parking, which needed electricity to run. I pulled out my umbrella to protect Duda and I from the falling snow. We had to be extra careful walking with the number of people and bikers on the sidewalks. Oftentimes I had to pull Duda out of the way when she was right in the path of a bike or group of people walking in the other direction.
We walked in front of a broadcasting station with a large crowd around their outside television showing the news. I pulled Duda over and tried to get a peak, but I could only see half the screen, so we moved on.
When we walked past Kotodaikoen Station, we saw our first real structural damage to the city. Japan has very high building regulations. They build them to move and sway with earthquakes. Most of the building damage came from broken windows and pieces of the exterior that had fallen off. Outside the station however, there were parts of the sidewalk that had cracked and sunken in. It was also closed off, so no one was allowed in. Duda and I both worried if parts of the subway were damaged, which is most likely.
We got to her host mother's boutique, cut the door was locked, the lights were off and no one was inside. The store had some china and delicate items inside, some of which had fallen and broken. Most of the merchandise, luckily, had remained intact.
We decided to soldier on and go to her house. While walking by the Ichibancho shopping arcade we heard a, "Duda!?" It was Duda's host mother! Duda, a brunette Brazilian, wearing a sailor uniform was easy to spot for her host mother. At that same moment, she was being picked up by a family friend in their car, so we all hoped in with her.
That was the first time that I was really able to see the news. The small television in the dashboard of the car showed footage of the earthquake: inside NHK, outside with the rattling traffic lights (all to familiar with me). When a new tremor came, the reporters in studio would stop and say, "It's come. . . . it's a strong one."
It took a long time to get to the house, because of the heavy traffic, but we did finally arrive after sundown. Duda's host mother entered the house first, then told us to stay outside, because is was, "Dangerous." After flashlights and candles were found, we were able to peek our heads inside. A large mirror that hung on the wall near the door had fallen off and smashed on the floor. We all put on house slippers and helped clean up. Some figurines and glass ware were broken in the kitchen and dining room. Most of the house however, went unscathed. The family dog was out of the cage, and couldn't yet be found. After making sure we were all okay, the friends said goodbye and were on their way.
Duda's host father and host sister, Rika, both returned home. Duda's host father had come after the earthquake and picked up Ryutaro, the family dog. Rika had come back with supplies, like teas and instant soups. That night we had a nice coal barbecue outside: roasted garlic, sausages, large gray shrimp. It was a great meal, but really melancholy. We were all still on edge, especially Duda's host mother, who was constantly nervous, saying, "Jishin, Jishin!!" whenever an earthquake would come. Duda, Rika and I tried to keep positive, making jokes about us three voluptuous women causing the aftershocks, talking about boys, how cold it was outside. All of us tried to comfort each other.
I think the worse thing that can happen to a person during a disaster like this is to be left alone. In the end all really need is family, friends, someone who we can be there for, who can be there for us. When the earthquake hit, I didn't think if my clothes, my computer were going to be okay. I though about my friends, my family here in Japan. Possessions will forever be replaceable. People never are. That is a fact that we must all remember.
I feel that I've written enough for today, actually this one took me a couple days to peel out. I hope all of you won't forget that many people's story is worse than mine. Keep Japan in your thoughts. Happy Easter.
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