This is just to say.
I don't want to talk too much about my experience with the Japan earthquake, because there are tens of thousands of people whose experiences make mine look like a romp through the playground, just for starters, and because I have seen more than a handful of foreigners in Japan take this as an opportunity to engage in some pretty attention-seeking behavior. But I do want to talk a little bit about my experiences in the country post-earthquake, because they've been incredibly heartening.
Immediately after getting evacuated from the museum we were in, innumerable Japanese people--employees of the museum and customers alike--continually sought my father and I out to make sure we were okay and we understood what was going on. This selflessness was really touching to me; a lot of these people had small children and families with them, and you would think in a time of crisis they would just be focused on their own family unit's well-being, but they were all thinking of us.
When my father and I were stranded in Mitaka, trying to find a way out or a place to stay, we encountered, in turns: an old woman offering us heated hand-warmers to keep ourselves warm in the cold; several different people offering to personally accompany us to a shelter so we wouldn't get lost; a cab driver who cut our three-hour ride's fare short with half an hour to go. (It still cost us $200, though, ha.)
Every day, on every major street corner and at every shopping mall, elementary, middle, and high school students are standing in their uniforms politely asking for donations for victims. In the hostels I've been staying in, there are signs about turning off the lights to save power for victims in Miyagi and Sendai, and in restaurants I've gone to, they apologize profusely because they've turned off the heat for the same reason.
After I saw my dad off to the Narita airport, I was in a couple aftershocks underground waiting for a train and then on the train itself. I was stupidly freaked out even though they weren't so bad, but all I had to do was look around me and I calmed immediately. All the Japanese people were taking it in without fear, completely brave and calm. I feel like that's how the country has been throughout this entire crisis. The Japan I'm seeing looks nothing like the western news reports on TV. It's maybe the most inspiring historical event I've ever sorta kinda witnessed, as terrible as it all is.
I say this primarily because donations for Japan have been really low in comparison with other recent worldwide crises. A lot of aid organizations have even stopped accepting donations directly for victims in Japan. I've read a lot of justifications for this, but I don't really want to go into the politics of it. I just want to say: there are a lot of people in this country who have lost their families and lost their homes and are facing it with awe-inspiring grace. If you can spare even a couple dollars for one of the aid organizations focusing on Japan, it makes a difference.
I know my flist is full of amazing and generous people, so to be honest, I feel like I'm preaching to the choir here. But it had to be said. To those of you who have already donated (or are offering services or bidding over at help_japan), thank you. ♥
Immediately after getting evacuated from the museum we were in, innumerable Japanese people--employees of the museum and customers alike--continually sought my father and I out to make sure we were okay and we understood what was going on. This selflessness was really touching to me; a lot of these people had small children and families with them, and you would think in a time of crisis they would just be focused on their own family unit's well-being, but they were all thinking of us.
When my father and I were stranded in Mitaka, trying to find a way out or a place to stay, we encountered, in turns: an old woman offering us heated hand-warmers to keep ourselves warm in the cold; several different people offering to personally accompany us to a shelter so we wouldn't get lost; a cab driver who cut our three-hour ride's fare short with half an hour to go. (It still cost us $200, though, ha.)
Every day, on every major street corner and at every shopping mall, elementary, middle, and high school students are standing in their uniforms politely asking for donations for victims. In the hostels I've been staying in, there are signs about turning off the lights to save power for victims in Miyagi and Sendai, and in restaurants I've gone to, they apologize profusely because they've turned off the heat for the same reason.
After I saw my dad off to the Narita airport, I was in a couple aftershocks underground waiting for a train and then on the train itself. I was stupidly freaked out even though they weren't so bad, but all I had to do was look around me and I calmed immediately. All the Japanese people were taking it in without fear, completely brave and calm. I feel like that's how the country has been throughout this entire crisis. The Japan I'm seeing looks nothing like the western news reports on TV. It's maybe the most inspiring historical event I've ever sorta kinda witnessed, as terrible as it all is.
I say this primarily because donations for Japan have been really low in comparison with other recent worldwide crises. A lot of aid organizations have even stopped accepting donations directly for victims in Japan. I've read a lot of justifications for this, but I don't really want to go into the politics of it. I just want to say: there are a lot of people in this country who have lost their families and lost their homes and are facing it with awe-inspiring grace. If you can spare even a couple dollars for one of the aid organizations focusing on Japan, it makes a difference.
I know my flist is full of amazing and generous people, so to be honest, I feel like I'm preaching to the choir here. But it had to be said. To those of you who have already donated (or are offering services or bidding over at help_japan), thank you. ♥