Cautiously Grateful

"It's depressing, but we still have hope."

Our friend Aki spoke these words to me earlier this week, and I can say that, at this moment in Japan, I'm not sure that any feeling is truer. I've heard the word "hope" circulating among my Japanese students and friends here all week, and though it always accompanies a sad shake of the head or a moment of silence as we allow our minds to flash back to the horrible images that have overwhelmed our senses these past days, it nevertheless seems to triumph in even the most mundane daily conversations.

To say this past week was a whirlwind would be an understatement. We watched the news unfold last weekend with misty eyes and heavy hearts. The level of devastation is unfathomable, and I continue to be cautiously grateful that, at this moment, all is well in Tsu City. We didn't understand how serious this disaster was until Sunday, when the dust had metaphorically and literally begun to settle, statistics started rolling in, and people started speaking. Classes at the beginning of the week were sad; all of my students' emotions were still fresh. Talking with my high school students on Monday was poignant. I'm not that much older than they are, but to see how sad and scared they were saddened and scared me. Another student told me of her grandson who, after the quake, drove over a bridge, only to learn that it had collapsed when he was only a kilometer past it. I teared up multiple times and had to force myself to "be the teacher" and take control of the conversation. Thankfully, I had the luck of the Irish on my side this week, and my St. Patrick's Day lesson became the relief that we all needed. My students took more interest in it than they might have otherwise; they welcomed the break from the headlines.

As the week progressed, the threat of nuclear meltdown gripped all of us, and I finally got scared. OBC has been honest about the fact that we may have to go home if things get worse, but at this moment, I am perfectly safe here. Scientifically speaking, I'm 700+ kilometers away from the nuclear plant, but the American media has a way of clouding or realistic judgment. Mie is a very, very safe place to be right now, even though the news casts make it look like the entire country is ravaged. Rumors ran rampant on Thursday and Friday to the detriment of those of us over here who really were worried. But things have calmed and are semi-stable for now.

Many of my Japanese friends still feel guilty doing anything "normal" when so many of their fellow country people in the north are suffering so much. The solidarity and respect I've seen here has been overwhelming, and you can't go anywhere now without seeing donation boxes, all of which have money in them. In fact this weekend, we went to our usual montly Beatles concert, the profits of which were donated to earthquake relief, and the melting pOt, where the cover and 100 yen of each drink sold were sent up north. Today, Sarah and I got massages from my stuent's brother-in-law, and he donated part of his profit to disaster relief. I'm doing my part to support the local economy, help those in need in the only way I can, and continue living my daily life for the sake of my own well-being.

It'll be years before Japan fully recovers from this. I've been moved in this past week by the stories, images, emotions, support, and reverence I've seen for and in this country. These are in incredible people, and their strength and selflessness is noble. Thank you again, all of you, for your continued thoughts, prayers, and concerns. I appreciate the outpouring of support more than you know, both for me and my well-being along with the well-being of my students, friends, and the thousands of Japanese people who have been far more affected than I have been. Again, the three of us here at OBC are lucky to be where we are, and we continue to be cautiously grateful.

May God hold you in the palm of His hands, dear friends.