Book Review Tsunami: Our Shock, Pain and Resilience
By Pamela Okano
NAP Contributor
In March 2011 we watched the horrifying tsunami caused by the Great East Japan Earthquake consume seaside towns in Tohoku, Japan. It is one thing to watch the videos but it is quite another to read from someone who went through it.
Futoshi Toba, newly elected Mayor of Rikuzentakata in Japan, spent the night on March 11 huddled in the snow with coworkers on the roof of City Hall praying the wave would not overtop the building. It did not. The next morning, he and his staff gingerly made their way down the stairs and headed out to the school lunch center, a designated backup command center, to set up a command post.
To get to the school lunch center, Mayor Toba had to pass by his own house. He realized the wave must have completely covered the house and it was unlikely his beloved wife was still alive. He could have stopped to investigate but he felt he had no choice but to provide the survivors of his destroyed town with immediate leadership.
Tsunami: Our Shock, Pain and Resilience is a first-person account written by Mayor Toba and an American woman, Amya Miller, who grew up in Japan. She spent eight years as a volunteer helping Rikuzentakata, at times with her own health in peril. She was the only one who could explain the Japanese psyche to Westerners and the toll it took on them. Without her, the book would be incomplete.
The book details the difficulties faced by Mayor Toba and his staff as they sought to rebuild the town as quickly as possible. Hordes of Tokyo politicians showed up for a photographic opportunity but did not lift a finger to help. Furthermore, the government in Tokyo, Japan would not allow construction of a 15-meter seawall, even though one would be necessary should there be another tsunami like the March 2011 one.
Mayor Toba felt he had no choice but to raise the level of the town several feet, a much more expensive option. Neither would Tokyo relax the time-consuming red tape on almost every decision nor would it allow them to rebuild with modern buildings. Mayor Toba was virtually the only local leader affected by the disaster to complain publicly but it didn’t do much good.
The only solution was to raise money privately. That is where Ms. Miller came in. Fluent in Japanese and knowledgeable about Japanese customs, she became Director of Global Public Relations and initiated a foreign and domestic media blitz. Corporate money began to flow in, as well as donations from nonprofits and individuals all over the world.
Nonetheless, progress continued to move slowly, even though the mayor and his staff worked almost constantly. When Mayor Toba got confirmation that his wife had passed away, he could not bring himself to tell his sons. His older son read about it in the newspaper; his younger son did not find out until they arrived at her funeral. Mayor Toba would later reflect upon that moment, “I was a failure as a human being.”
In Operation Tomodachi, U.S. military personnel delivered food, water, emergency supplies, and engaged in search and rescue operations. U.S. Ambassador to Japan, John Roos, asked what the community needed. Mayor Toba answered, “We need hope.” From this was born the Tomodachi Initiative, still active today. Young people from the area and from the U.S. travel to each other’s countries to live, study and work.
Many Japanese Americans are familiar with the concept of gaman. It means perseverance and stoicism in a time of hardship. With no way to release frustrations since seeking mental health therapy in Japan is seen by some as a sign of weakness, what were survivors supposed to do? Small children were taken out of the classroom and allowed tantrums in the school hallway. After the tsunami, the suicide rate for women rose. Two to three years later, the suicide rate for men soared. Four to five years later, the rate for both men and women increased.
One Japanese friend told Miller, “Foreigners, Westerners in particular, are so focused on happiness… None of us want to hear ‘gambatte (do your best or hang in there).’ None of us want to be told ‘be happy.’ Not right now.”
Perhaps the most inspiring is Rikuzentakata’s creation of a student exchange program and a sister city program with Crescent City, California. Miller played a major role in bringing the two cities together because she noticed Rikuzentakata needed a foreign partner that understood what it was going through. The two towns share a tsunami history: in March 1964, a 21-foot wave hit Crescent City, killing 11 people and devastating 29 blocks.
In April 2013, a skiff named “Kamome” (seagull) washed up on shore in Crescent City. It belonged to Takata High School in Rikuzentakata. Completely encrusted in barnacles and kelp, the boat was painstakingly cleaned by students from Crescent City’s high school. In September 2013, the boat was returned to Takata High School. Since then, official delegations and students visit each other in what is hoped will be a continued long-term relationship. Every April, Crescent City celebrates the Kamome Festival to commemorate the boat and what it has done for the community. The story of Kamome can be viewed on Peacock television streaming service.
At Mayor Toba’s instigation, the City adopted an Inclusion and Accessibility policy, welcoming disabled, elderly, foreigners and locals. Hotel recommendations, homestays and sightseeing recommendations are available through this website: http://visit-takata.jp/stay.html.
