One Year Later – 3.11

The following is a piece I wrote for the website GaijinPot.  ~ Hacker

“IT WAS COMFORTING TO KNOW THAT THE WORLD WAS SUPPORTING JAPAN ALL ALONG, THAT IT WASN’T JUST FOR THE NEWS, THAT IT WAS REAL”

Adam, American, Shibuya, 30, Business Developer

What were you doing when the earthquake struck?

I was jogging through Yoyogi Park, just minutes after leaving Gold’s Gym in Harajuku.

I felt lightheaded, my knees weak from an exhausting workout. I stopped to catch my breath and saw the taxis on the street rocking back and forth. I looked ahead at the tiled sidewalk to see an almost rolling motion.  Rolling like the scales of some reptile, something out of a movie.

A young woman spoke to me in English “That was a really big one. Maybe a six.”

I knew from experience that it was something far greater than a six. I sprinted to my Tomigaya apartment, hearing the continued rattle of old neighboring homes, watching the rocking of my new building as I reached the top floor. I turned around, using the external stairwell to descend and met a congregation of neighbors on the street. We all watched in horror as clips of the oncoming tsunami played on a stranger’s mobile phone. A while later, I propped open my front door and turned on the TV.

I began tweeting my experiences, several of them appearing on BBC and CNN.  Was this all really happening?  Did our entire world just change in mere seconds?  I’d lived in Japan for over four years, so earthquakes were nothing new. But what was about to unfold over the next thirty days was something few are prepared for.

The struggle that continued over time was one of the mind. Being woken by jolts in the night, receiving calls from friends and family in the US, asking I come home, being misled by the government and their unwillingness to explain what was happening, all took quite the toll.  Magnitude 4–5 earthquakes were now simply a part of our day.  And it didn’t help that 25% of my office went on “vacation” through April.

But living safely in Tokyo was nothing compared to what my friends in the tsunami zone went through. I put forth many efforts to tell their stories, to ensure my family that I was okay, and that any relief should be sent to the North. I was impressed by Tokyoites and our ability to keep energy usage down. I slept in socks and a knit cap, keeping all heat off through the cold months. Both of my roommates left the country for some time, but I held strong, growing evermore a part of Japan.

How did it affect your life?

A year later and not a day goes by that I don’t think about the Great Tohoku earthquake, tsunami, aftershocks and near meltdown.  The events were so far outside of what your mind can imagine that you’re forced to examine everything.  But I did learn something very important.

People really do care.

When I returned to the US in July, I was surprised at how many people knew my name, from stories being told about my experiences. At church, members I’d never met said they had been praying for me and the others in Japan.

A close family friend, Mrs. Day, hadn’t been physically able to attend church for years, but made it on March 13 because she felt her prayers would mean more there.  How can I ever express what that means to me?

It was comforting to know that the world was supporting Japan all along, that it wasn’t just for the news, that it was real.

*What I wrote one year ago on 3.11 –> Sorting Out My Thoughts

Life After The JET Programme

Tokyo

Shimane

You moved from where?

East meets West

This one goes out to all of my fellow Japan Exchange & Teaching Programme participants!  The JET Programme brings foreign culture and the English language into nearly every school district in Japan.  Each of us applied for jobs in our passport country, were brought to Tokyo, then sent out into the countryside.  We stood out, for sure, and hopefully, left our communities with a better understanding of the world.  But as spring comes, many JETs, as we are referred to, are getting ready to leave this adventure behind.  So here are my thoughts for The Leavers. ~Hacker

Being a part of the JET Programme will no doubt be one of the greatest experiences of your life.  Be it making the choice to move on, or leaving after your five year limit, there’s probably an element of great unknown ahead of you.  I know the struggles that go along with this decision.  Just as every situation is different, so are your motivations to leave.  And now that you’re about five months away from giving your sayonaras, it’s time to start focusing on your next step.

I heard a while ago that unless you’re going into Education, “your experience in the JET Programme won’t help you in your job hunt or future career.”  WHAT??  Are you kidding me?!  What we’ve all gone through is far more valuable, far greater than having just graduated!  Who out there isn’t a better, more developed human than the day they stepped off that first plane?  Perhaps then, the struggle lies in how to articulate the skills gained, and actualizing how they apply to the future.

Overall, we JETs are very like–minded.  We all made the same giant leap, choosing adventure over comfort.  And no matter where we hail from, we now share some of the same strange, funny, unique ‘JAPAN!’ moments.  Now, we’ve grown bonds that will last a lifetime, so use this JET network as your new Global Network.  After all, no one says you have to go back to your passport country.  There’s a world of opportunities out there.  Help each other uncover them.  JET will always be a part of your life, your view of the world ever broadened.  Carry that experience with pride and use it to your advantage.

We’re adaptable.  We left our lives behind and welcomed major change with open arms.  For that too, be proud.  When a company or graduate schools asks you about JET,  include all of the things you’d never done before, and became proficient at.  Classroom management, cultural awareness, event planning, unofficial grief counseling!  They are all skills we now bring to the table.

Lastly, look back on what you have accomplished as a reminder of what you can do in the future.  DO NOT let it be a source of longing or regret.  Reverse–Culture Shock is real, so support each other after you move on.  Skype, facebook, and Twitter have become the home of my Global Community.  There’s also a new App on facebook called BranchOut, which is a great resource for job hunting.  Feel free to connect with me on BranchOut, on twitter @hackerinjapan or through my website at www.shotocon.com .  And if we’re already friends, don’t be a stranger!

裸祭り Hadaka Matsuri…Naked Man Festival!

Jason & I before the festival, 2010

OK, before you jump to conclusions, yes, this festival involves thousands of NEARLY–naked men! And I was one of them.  You wear something called a “fundoshi” or loin cloth, which does a fine job of covering the essentials.  Personally, I’ve seen more skin on the beaches of Thailand.  Well not exactly, because at this festival, in a normally sleepy town in Okayama Prefecture, you’ll see about 20,000 of us.  Participation is open to everyone, so long as you’re male.  Sorry ladies.  Sorry for us guys, too.  I’d only heard of the event in the past, but having lived in neighboring Shimane Prefecture, this opportunity was too good to pass up.

The Hadaka Matsuri (裸祭り) is said to “represent the struggle in old times between the assemblage of lower-ranking shinto priests” and “to set up an unlucky poor man as noble, who was unwilling to take the role.”  How this applies today?  Who cares.  All the excitement takes place in and around Saidai-ji Temple, which we found just in the nick of time.

We arrived late, taking a combination of trains and cabs, after having missed the chartered bus.  Our fault.  But hey, we had lots of sake and yakitori to consume!  We were rushed into a makeshift changing room, where about $30 gets you the cloth, some little booties and a good wrapping by a Professional.  I’ll save you the grief of having to see any behind the scenes footage.

We were thrust out onto the streets.  It was 0ºC on that night, about 33ºF.  I didn’t even notice the cold, as the cheers and chants had a way of carrying your spirit far beyond anything normal!  There were thousands of fans lining the path, and among the 20,000 odd participants, my guess is that less than fifty of us were foreign.  Gaijin smash!  We stood out, for sure, high-fiving onlookers, posing for pictures, really getting into it.

In the shit of it, 2010

Once inside the temple grounds, we were at the back of the pack.  Jason and I were quick to maneuver our way into the middle of the mess.  And what a mess it was, all 20,000 people rushing to the middle.  The idea of the festival being to grab hold a set of bamboo sticks, tossed into the mess.  See that little white packet in the photo there?  That’s a bundle of about 15 sets of bamboo sticks.  Some bring money prizes, others good luck.

When in the middle of this epic commotion, I can only imagine it’s what being buried alive would be like.  You can’t move, no matter what you do.  You’re at the mercy of the crowd.  I was told beforehand to keep your arms high, if not, they’ll be pinned at your sides.  With each breath, you can feel the strain of your muscles, ribs and lungs.  And with each breath, you can feel your expansion take over the space of your neighbors.  Those ice–cold temperatures are long gone, and now you’re entire body is dripping with sweat, your eyes weigh heavy, utter exhaustion ensues.  But what else can you do?  There’s no backing out of this mess now.  I closed my eyes at times, conjuring images of Dante’s Inferno, trying to decide which circle of Hell we’d landed in.  It’s all rather gruesome from the inside, really.  Shouts echo throughout the temple, a noise I’ve never heard replicated once.  Jason ended up with a rib broken, ambulance sirens rang loudly through the town’s narrow streets, and the smell of sweat, alcohol and BBQ hung low over us all.  But not once was I not thankful to be there, previewed to something most in this world will never see, let alone do.

In 2010, we didn’t come up with any of those lucky sticks.  But in 2011, I made my second appearance at the Hadaka Matsuri, and then, I was able to bring one of those good luck sticks back out of the shit and past the temple gates, the official Finish Line.  So yes, one year of this wasn’t enough.  I went well out of my way to schedule a trip from Tokyo in 2011 back to Okayama in February, rather than when everyone else wanted vacation time, Golden Week.  It was 100% worth it, and now, I’ve had one year of good luck, thanks to those bamboo sticks.  It’s been an amazing year, difficult, but amazing.

Sadly, it’s looking like a trip to participate in 2012 is out of the question.  But I already reached my goal.

With Leonard, Andrew and my lucky sticks

The feeling of having all those eyes on you, seeing the thousands of camera flashes, high-fives and support…it’s hard to duplicate.  I imagine it’s what being a professional athlete is like.  I hope that someday, I’ll be able to make another Hadaka Matsuri.

The reason we're always running behind.

Back in it, 2011