Earthquake and tsunami
By the mouth of the Kushiro River, lumber washed away from a mill near my house is floating out to sea as higher-than-normal swells continue to lap at the shores here in Hokkaido. Roads are closed and some towns further east towards Nemuro and southwest towards Hakodate have been flooded by the tsunami, but none of it compares to the damage and loss of life down in Tohoku.
The earthquake here felt like a gently rocking boat, which was not much more than we usually get here, but it was the length of it that really unsettled myself and my fellow teachers in the office at school. Not a filled coffeecup was unsettled, but when the shaking continued for several minutes, we really got concerned. We all realized there was going to be a tsunami for a shake that strong.
The word soon came that it was a major earthquake off the coast of Sendai and we were to send students home as most major forms of public transportation shut down. Teachers turned on the TVs in the lounges and crowded around cellphones to watch digital broadcasts, while others scoured internet news and announced the reported earthquake magnitudes and tsunami warnings.
I continuously reloaded a live webcam feed from downtown Kushiro and watched as the river—the same one that goes by my apartment—slowly swelled over its banks and flooded the touristy Fisherman’s Wharf building. I wondered if my apartment was safe.
Our school began to take in people who had evacuated and I finally decided to go home to make sure nothing had floated away. My house was fine, but the evening was filled with distant sirens and echoing loudspeakers telling residents to go to higher ground and stay away from the water’s edge.
While we didn’t suffer the damage and loss of life here in Hokkaido as in Tohoku, many residents of Hokkaido were probably watching the devastation unfold on TV and wondering if a wave or aftershock would mean we would have to flee our homes with a moment’s warning and watch our lives float out to sea. It was a stressful and restless night for many.
The sunlight of the next day showed the world exactly the extent of the destruction. Coastal towns in Fukushima look like they had been flattened by atom bombs (not to mention the very real threat of nuclear plant meltdowns there), cars are lying on top of trees on top of boats on top of planes, Miyagi is on fire. I answered a flood of emails from friends, asking if I was okay. I’m much more okay than some people, I replied, can you help them?
