(Forgive any misspellings on this one! I am using a Japanese keyboard and having problems hitting the right keys!)
This will be my last blog post on my summer volunteer disaster relief work in Ofunato, Japan. I writing this while I am waiting for my overnight bus to Tokyo. I plan to spend the next few days chilling out and continuing my support of the Japan by spending my mother`s hard earned (borrowed) money as a tourist.
I tried to keep a stoic face when I stood up the other night at the nightly team meeting to say my farewells. But, I couldn`t help it. I turned into the blubbering sentimental fool that I am. This journey has been a myriad of emotions: excited to be going to Japan, frustrated, hot, tired, exhausted, moved, inspired and, finally, soulful and a bit sad to be leaving.
* Favorite job: using the spray power washer on a hot summer day to clean tires at the warehouse while working with good hearted Lance (aka Thunderclap) and kindly Eric #2
* Least favorite job: not the fish factory (even though that was gross). My least favorite job was cleaning out the squat toilets at the volunteer base.
* Most frustrating moment: when we had an all company meeting to air some grievances and the person in charge just didn`t get it. (I wasn`t the only one frustrated)
* Most inspiration: came from talking to the locals who have endured such hardship and were willing to share their stories. Also, from the volunteers who have endured difficult working and living conditions and still continue to do their best and work their hardest to help others.
* Things I won`t miss: sweating so much, changing my shoes for every room I have to walk into, arguing with fellow volunteer named Tei, using squat toilets (then having a hard time standing up!), slow internet connection, sharing a room with 20 other people, daily earthquakes that sound and feel like freight trains, one of the volunteer`s crude and rude humour and the bento box lunches.
* Things that I will miss: saying "konichi wa" to everyone you meet, respectful bowing, CC Lemon drinks, the generosity of all the people of Ofunato, the fabulous local volunteers who joined us to help (including Tei), the wonderful international volunteers who shared so much of themselves, the fun loving humor and good hearts of all the volunteers and the bento box lunches.
Yesterday was our day off and my last full day in Ofunato. I went to the local bike store to rent a bike so I could take one last look around this town that I have become so fond of. When I asked the man how much it would cost he said `free`. Yet again, I was moved by the kindness and generosity to us volunteers. I rode down to the shoreline and to the tsunami impact zone to take one last look. While traveling to our job sites on the All Hands bus each day, we only really see a small portion of the devastation. What I saw on my bike ride yesterday was overwhelming.
I hate to think of myself as vouyuer, but I think there is something that compels us to take pictures. Its as if by photographing something we also hope to capture the feelings and emotions of the moment. I was shocked to see that after 6 weeks in this town so little has really been done. The piles and piles of debris are everywhere. I couldn`t help but get teary eyed again. My sadness shifted when I also noticed some hopeful signs of recovery. At the fishing port there was a whole line of new fishing vessels and trucks ready to ship out their daily catch. (The town had lost 90% of the fishing fleet) . I saw utility workers installing new electrical lines and when I rode back to the canals and ditches that our volunteers have been working on, I saw that the water in them was running fresh and clear.
I purchased some pastries to give to the bike rental guy as a way to thank him for the free bike rental. At the pastry shop, although the woman didn`t speak English, she took one look at me and said "Hands volunteer?" when I nodded "Hai", she gave a deep bow and said "Arrigato goyzimas." We don`t deserve to be treated like celebrities, when the true celebrities should be the people who are carrying on their lives amidst so much tragedy. At the bike shop, I had to nearly force the man to take my pastries for him. He finally accepted when I indicated that I would not take them back.
My most enlightening moment: A few weeks ago on a hot night when I was very annoyed that no one had bought bread for the volunteers' breakfast, I had to walk about 20 minutes downhill to the store before they closed. I stomped angrily down the road muttering to myself about the thoughtlessness of the person in charge. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw four teeny-tiny flickering lights all hovering near a tree. I stopped. I looked closer..... wow, those are fireflys! Real fireflys. I've never seen a real firefly! (Only fake ones on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland). I stopped, took a deep breath and thought, "slow down girl, look around see what you are missing". I looked up at the moon, it was big and bright and full. A warm, light breeze came up. All of sudden, the anger and frustration disappeared. I relaxed and enjoyed the beautiful scenery and was thankful for the opportunity to be here.
A few days later, I was talking to a Japanese woman who told me that fireflys are actually quite symbolic in Japan. The belief is that they embody the souls of those who have died. If so, then perhaps the world of North Japan will soon be a little brighter and all of us will remember to be kind and generous to each other.
