Not for Wimps

June 16^th

I have been here one week now and am finally starting to feel like I belong.  The first week of working alongside the younger, stronger, more agile volunteers was a bit rough for me.  I’m out of shape and, well, just a shade of former athletic self and no one seems to cut you any slack.   I’ve been achy and sluggish as I have tried to keep up.   Thank god for fellow volunteers, Embassy Ana, Superwoman Sally and Japanese American Reiko.   They all kept re-assuring me that it is okay to work at my own pace and allowed me a chance to “kvetch”.    (I didn’t learn until her last night here, Reiko is 72!).  Now that they have left, I am currently the oldest woman among the group.   At least there are still a few older men.     

 I really earned my stripes on Monday when I volunteered for one of the worst ever jobs --- helping to clean up the fish factory.    Imagine five football fields filled up to four feet high with rotting, stinking fish that has been sitting in the sun and sludge for three months.  I’m not sure of the politics involved and why the factory didn’t clean this up sooner.  It may have had something to do with the factory management expecting the Japanese government to bring in their FEMA equivalent to deal with it; or, perhaps the factory staff and workers were in too much post traumatic stress over the Tsunami; or maybe they just couldn’t find anyone to pay to deal with it.  All I know is that All Hands Volunteers were asked by the Mayor of the city to please step in and help because the fish has been stinking up the entire town.  (One volunteer went as far as to suggest that perhaps having us foreigners willing to come in as volunteers has shamed the factory management into finally dealing with the problem.    

We wore Haz Mat Suits, rubber boots and gloves  (I was smart enough to bring a respirator.)   We ride the All Hands bus to the fish factory and even the bus driver doesn’t want to pull up too close because the stench is so bad.   One there, we helped the factory workers separate out plastic bags and cardboard out of the piles of fish before it was being loaded onto a boat to be hauled out to sea.    As a scuba diver, I really appreciate that they were taking the effort to remove the harmful trash. From a logistical perspective, it’s hard to imagine any other way that this job could be done except by hand.    That night, back the base camp, we all got jeers and jibs as we came back absolutely reeking!     After a power wash at the factory, a rub down of fresh lemons, three showers, tossing the clothes I wore and soaking in a tub I finally got the smell down to a manageable level.     Now, I feel triumphant that no one can consider me a wimp!