2012.07.12
To be honest, I’m not quite sure where to start—the agonizingly long plane ride, our serene time in the onsen (hot springs bath), or the food. Oh man, the Japanese cuisine! Everything has truly been such an amazing experience.
Today was, however, especially special as it was one of the greatest highlights of our trip thus far—visiting the disaster-stricken sites in Ofunato and Rikuzen Takata City. We first visited the Saito Confectionary factory to see the process of making their specialty “seagull egg,” which we also received as delicious omiyage (souvenirs). Mr. Saitou, the CEO, himself gave us the tour before leading into a presentation of his experience evacuating his office and employees, searching for his missing family members, and enduring life at home without heat, electricity, and other needs. Everything was so overwhelming, but it was a reminder of how important it is to be able to share what we’ve learned once we get back. Something that was really memorable for me was seeing the word kizuna (bonds of friendship) at the end of his presentation, and then being able to speak about how the kizuna between Japan and the US has strengthened from our experience today. (Of course, seeing the TV camera up in my face as I gave the thank you speech will also be something to look back on … and hopefully laugh about in the future.)
Afterwards, we went on a bus-tour guided by Mr. Konno, another survivor in the neighboring town. From the authentic replica of a traditional wealthy farmhouse, to the remnants of Mr. Konno’s home, everything was truly unbelievable. I could not believe that I was really seeing all of the damage and debris in person, and then what a rare opportunity this experience was. While we’ve all seen pictures or perhaps videos of the area on the news, to be able to stand in front of a building with just a few survivors …. I was once again reminded how much my responsibility as a participant of this trip had grown. Mr. Konno was an incredible man—friendly and humorous, but also very earnest and sincere. I feel really honored to have been able to meet him and hear his story.
The Solitary Miracle Tree. The Flame of Hope. Both were inspiring monuments of Iwate Prefecture’s efforts to recover and determination for the future. But above that, Mr. Konno’s words—what was said and unsaid—were the most touching symbol of Japan’s will.
“Please don’t cry for me.”
To be honest, I’m not quite sure where to start—the agonizingly long plane ride, our serene time in the onsen (hot springs bath), or the food. Oh man, the Japanese cuisine! Everything has truly been such an amazing experience.
Today was, however, especially special as it was one of the greatest highlights of our trip thus far—visiting the disaster-stricken sites in Ofunato and Rikuzen Takata City. We first visited the Saito Confectionary factory to see the process of making their specialty “seagull egg,” which we also received as delicious omiyage (souvenirs). Mr. Saitou, the CEO, himself gave us the tour before leading into a presentation of his experience evacuating his office and employees, searching for his missing family members, and enduring life at home without heat, electricity, and other needs. Everything was so overwhelming, but it was a reminder of how important it is to be able to share what we’ve learned once we get back. Something that was really memorable for me was seeing the word kizuna (bonds of friendship) at the end of his presentation, and then being able to speak about how the kizuna between Japan and the US has strengthened from our experience today. (Of course, seeing the TV camera up in my face as I gave the thank you speech will also be something to look back on … and hopefully laugh about in the future.)
Afterwards, we went on a bus-tour guided by Mr. Konno, another survivor in the neighboring town. From the authentic replica of a traditional wealthy farmhouse, to the remnants of Mr. Konno’s home, everything was truly unbelievable. I could not believe that I was really seeing all of the damage and debris in person, and then what a rare opportunity this experience was. While we’ve all seen pictures or perhaps videos of the area on the news, to be able to stand in front of a building with just a few survivors …. I was once again reminded how much my responsibility as a participant of this trip had grown. Mr. Konno was an incredible man—friendly and humorous, but also very earnest and sincere. I feel really honored to have been able to meet him and hear his story.
The Solitary Miracle Tree. The Flame of Hope. Both were inspiring monuments of Iwate Prefecture’s efforts to recover and determination for the future. But above that, Mr. Konno’s words—what was said and unsaid—were the most touching symbol of Japan’s will.
“Please don’t cry for me.”
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