Bright Orange Waterproof Overalls



Seki-san, My 'Okaasan'

 From my cubicle a year ago, I would have never thought that I’d be travelling into a disaster zone in Iwate prefecture with steel toe boots and a sleeping bag or that I would be reading the fine print of the evacuation policy covered by my insurance.  How do I give back to a place, to people who have given me so much? 

Walking into my Japanese class following the earthquake/tsunami on March 11, our Sensei greeted us with a map of Japan that spread out across the entire study table.  Part of our conversation for the evening involved us locating the areas in Japan where we either lived or where we had family.  She then asked us to describe what we were feeling.  I remember that the room was eerily silent and that I was trying hard to swallow over the lump in my throat.  At the time I still had many dear friends that I had been unable to contact and the nightly news reels of the devastation made my stomach heave in anxiety. Being a product of my home training, I knew within the first week of the disaster that I was going to do whatever I could to help with the recovery.  I knew that it was likely that I would return to Japan, I just didn’t know when or how.

It was many years ago that I had been a JET programme participant in the north, in Niigata prefecture.  The experience completely altered my life trajectory.  Through JET, through securing funding for graduate school and through working for JETRO, I spent almost a decade involved in different ways with the Japanese government.  I have an Okaasan (mother) as well in Niigata prefecture.  She was a neighbor who had two grown sons and always wanted a girl.  She “adopted” me almost 15 years ago.  Worried that I would never marry, she insisted that I take a photo in one of her kimonos and send it to my mother as a sort of “marriage insurance”. As her American daughter, I now possess 3 of her kimonos and for 9 years I’ve been happily married to the man who took photos of me in one of the kimonos in her living room on that wintery afternoon.

I’m so very grateful to the many comrades, friends, relatives, classmates and colleagues who have donated to All Hands Volunteers through my donation page.  Several friends have asked that I work for them as well, that I be their hands since they are unable to go to the Tohoku region right now. In my pre-departure, there have been a million helping hands that have assisted me.  My language partner took the time to ensure that I had reservations on the overnight bus from Tokyo to Ofunato city and back.  A friend in Japan secured a cell phone for me to use on the network once I’m there.  The particular service is only for permanent residents, so we joked that I will soon be a “make believe” resident.  My spouse gave me a rain poncho, a personal first aid kit and an adjustable head lamp.  I had a dear friend take me on a shopping excursion over the weekend to make sure that I had safety chemical splash and impact goggles and of course the bright orange waterproof overalls.  Another friend of mine in Tokyo joked with me that he is grateful that I will soon arrive to join him for some shochu to take the edge off.  He warned me to be mentally prepared as the ground still sometimes moves.  His email sits in my inbox as a subtle and sobering reminder that the earth is in transition.