Dad, Mum, Grandpa and Grandma Are Sad
Six months after the tragic and monumental earthquake and tsunami hit Japan, tragedy reigns supreme. Not everywhere, of course, outside of Fukushima province where the disaster hit hardest, life goes on. As it must. People cannot possibly live their lives in fear, foreboding, apprehension, ongoing grief. Those people marginally impacted by the triple disaster of earthquake, tsunami and nuclear reactor implosion can, after all, get on with their lives.
Those who were at the epicentre of the triple tragedy are another story. They cannot get on with their lives, and the reasons are numerous. Many of the homeless, the victims, those who have returned to their dangerous and sterile and irradiated environment have seen no assistance from government, have had no compensation. They can no longer farm, nor forge a living for themselves. They live with despair.
But perhaps it is the survivors who lost those whom they treasured more than their own lives for whom life can never return to a time when it had value for them. These would be the mothers and the fathers of schoolchildren whose bodies were never recovered. Who wonder what happened to their beautiful young children, so eager to live, to learn, to discover. They will never have closure, whatever closure means to them.
They look for their missing children. They return to the place where they know their children were last, before that devastating tsunami hit, and they pine and they grieve and they weep and they keen and nothing alleviates their pain. They searched by hand, digging with their fingers until they became blunt and bleeding, into the rubble that might have covered their child.
One mother, a former teacher, did an astonishing thing for a Japanese woman; she learned how to operate a mechanical digger and was licensed to operate it. She works along with those firefighters and police and rescue workers who still come out to the sites to look, in vain. Her twelve year-old daughter has never been found.
And so her mother digs and looks. "This is not just for my daughter, but for the other kids still missing at this school. Just look around this site - what parent in the world could rest having left the body of their child under this rubble or floating out there in the sea?" Other parents found the body of their 12-year-old son, but continue to look for the body of their 11-year-old daughter.
About 83,000 people were made homeless by the events of March 11, 2011. Finally, 15,776 people were officially confirmed to have died, and another 4,225 are simply "missing". "Our children did not die because of the tsunami or the earthquake. They died because of the misjudgements of adults, whose duty it was to protect their lives", said one mother.
When the earthquake struck, the teachers at Okawa elementary school in the town of Ishinomaki, evacuated the children from their school, and assembled them in the playground. Then they could not reach agreement on what next to do. Whether to lead the children to climb up the wooded steep slopes behind the school,or just to remain there. They stayed where they were. After 40 minutes had elapsed the tsunami struck and washed the children out to see.
Mothers leave 'letters' to their children at the site. "I'm sorry I cannot find you Hana", one of the letters reads.
Those who were at the epicentre of the triple tragedy are another story. They cannot get on with their lives, and the reasons are numerous. Many of the homeless, the victims, those who have returned to their dangerous and sterile and irradiated environment have seen no assistance from government, have had no compensation. They can no longer farm, nor forge a living for themselves. They live with despair.
But perhaps it is the survivors who lost those whom they treasured more than their own lives for whom life can never return to a time when it had value for them. These would be the mothers and the fathers of schoolchildren whose bodies were never recovered. Who wonder what happened to their beautiful young children, so eager to live, to learn, to discover. They will never have closure, whatever closure means to them.
They look for their missing children. They return to the place where they know their children were last, before that devastating tsunami hit, and they pine and they grieve and they weep and they keen and nothing alleviates their pain. They searched by hand, digging with their fingers until they became blunt and bleeding, into the rubble that might have covered their child.
One mother, a former teacher, did an astonishing thing for a Japanese woman; she learned how to operate a mechanical digger and was licensed to operate it. She works along with those firefighters and police and rescue workers who still come out to the sites to look, in vain. Her twelve year-old daughter has never been found.
And so her mother digs and looks. "This is not just for my daughter, but for the other kids still missing at this school. Just look around this site - what parent in the world could rest having left the body of their child under this rubble or floating out there in the sea?" Other parents found the body of their 12-year-old son, but continue to look for the body of their 11-year-old daughter.
About 83,000 people were made homeless by the events of March 11, 2011. Finally, 15,776 people were officially confirmed to have died, and another 4,225 are simply "missing". "Our children did not die because of the tsunami or the earthquake. They died because of the misjudgements of adults, whose duty it was to protect their lives", said one mother.
When the earthquake struck, the teachers at Okawa elementary school in the town of Ishinomaki, evacuated the children from their school, and assembled them in the playground. Then they could not reach agreement on what next to do. Whether to lead the children to climb up the wooded steep slopes behind the school,or just to remain there. They stayed where they were. After 40 minutes had elapsed the tsunami struck and washed the children out to see.
Mothers leave 'letters' to their children at the site. "I'm sorry I cannot find you Hana", one of the letters reads.
"I come every day, wanting to see you. You must be around here. You don't appear in our dreams and Dad, Mum, Grandpa and Grandma are sad. I'm sorry I can't do anything for you. So sorry. If I could see you in my dreams, I would hug you tight."
Labels: Environment, Family, Japan, Nature
posted by Pieface @ 7:46 PM
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