Now stalking Japanese actors...

So... I've got a new hobby, and that hobby is (mildly) stalking good-looking Japanese actors. I say mildly, because I'm not very good at the actual stalking bit, in fact waiting outside a theatre with a bunch of other fangirls for an hour was about my limit last week, but it sure paid off.

I met Shirota Yu, who's a half-Japanese, half-Brazilian actor. << - This is him. Google him and you'll probably see him with a variety of 'interesting' wigs, and if you're lucky, the magazine shoot where he stripped off (back shots only, but boy, do Japanese magazine editors know how to sell their magazines!)

Anyway. He's been in a tonne of J-dramas (Hana Kimi, Samurai High School, Rookies). He's also a singer, and recently I bought his latest single, and last weekend went to see him in a live stage performance of Romeo & Juliet. It was a rock/pop musical with him as Romeo, calling his mates on his smartphone. And kissing Juliet 10 times. And lying ona bed in just his underwear in one scene. Anyway... this play is what brought me to be hovering outside the Umeda theatre, squinting in the darkness at all the actors slowly leaving, thinking no -too short - no.. a girl... no.. not him... is he really gonna come out? Has he already left?

Finally though, he did come out, and was wearing a hoodie pulled up over his often-dyed hair, and a health mask, presumably to ward off any germs and protect him from wild fangirls throwing themselves at his mouth. Drat. Anyway. He was moving fast through the crowd, so I pushed my hand through a gaggle of girls, and he shook it warmly. I blurted out (in English) , 'We love you!' and without missing a beat, he said 'Thank you' (also in English) as his eyes twinkled.

I spent the next two days agonising over those words. I surely should have said something cooler... like, 'We loved your performance'. Or 'You're really hot!' Who the hell is WE anyway? The royal We? I wanted to make myself memorable, that's why I spoke English instead of Japanese, but I sure wish I'd said something a little less lame. *sighs* my only hopes are, having seen him being interviewed, he can be a little dorky himself at times... so I hope overall he was amused by my words and not terrified. If I were an actor I think I'd like people to say things like that. But still, I keep replaying that moment, thinking... WHY THOSE WORDS?

So. The minor stalking continues, as Yu-kun is going to be in a Halloween parade at USJ in Osaka this weekend, and I'm dragging some friends with me just to gawk at him. I'd like the opportunity to shake his hand again, and say, 'What I mean is, I, personally, love to watch your acting and singing and all-round amazingness. Thanks for doing all that. And if you're single, here's my number.'

I'm not sure if his English ability can handle all of that, so perhaps I should practice it in Japanese. More motivation to study... >_<

Hiroshima remembers - stories from survivors

On August 6^th 1945, an atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Every year, a special ceremony is held to remember the event and commemorate the thousands upon thousands of victims. This year I went to see the ceremony, and I was fortunate enough to hear some first-hand accounts of the atomic bombing.

Please be warned, this wasn't easy listening so it won't make for easy reading. But these are real stories that need to be shared, and I feel as many people probably won't visit Hiroshima, they may find this blog entry informative, and heartbreaking, as I did.

I say I was fortunate to hear these stories, because the hibakusha, as they are called, are actively encouraged to keep their stories to themselves. There is a stigma, even now, for those who saw the destruction of Hiroshima with their own eyes. As if experiencing that horror would not be enough. As if they were excited to tell their stories, instead of reawakening again and again what must be deeply painful and carefully hidden memories.

But, not only do these people want to share their stories, they have studied English so they can share it with foreign visitors to the city. What brave people they are. What an honour to have met them. You couldn't leave that room without feeling emotional, human regret, sadness at what they had to live through. Every person alive should hear at least one of their stories.

We met four people; Isao Aratani, Shoso Hirai, Sumiko Hirozawa and Keiko Oruga. I didn't write any notes while they talked, as I wanted to listen carefully to their stories. We were given some notes on the speakers too. Here's what they said and any thoughts I had to add.

Isao Aratani was 13 years old when the bomb dropped. He explained that in the months leading up to it, students from his school were working to clear fire lanes in the city. So he should have been in the city centre on Aug 6th, but instead the school decided to put his class on farm duty, around 1 and a half miles from the hypocenter. He remembered working in the field, and an air raid, before the deadly bomb was dropped. Like most of his class, he suffered burns to his face, but they weren't permanent. The rest of his school were killed in the city centre. From his speech I learned that many of the victims were schoolchildren trying to help prevent fires in the city.

Hirai Shoso was 16 years old on Aug 6^th. His story was the hardest to hear, as he talked about trying to find his family in a hell-like city, and helping his mother carrying his fathers' bones back to his home. He never found his younger brother. His speech made me feel sorrow for the families destroyed by the bomb.

Sumiko Hirozawa was 17 at the time of the bomb. Her family owned a temple, which over 60 students came to for aid and shelter after the bomb. Instead of telling her story, she asked for our questions, which was a difficult thing to do. What kind of questions do you ask someone who has been through that? A few brave people went for it, and most people's questions she replied to with: 'It was a horrible time, but now everything is OK, we are all alright now.' She kept repeating it, like a mantra, and this made me wonder if those who experienced the bomb simply have to block some of it from their minds to deal with it.

Keiko Ogura was the most eloquently spoken of the group, and the director of a peace organisation in Hiroshima. She was only 8 years old at the time of the bombing. She was knocked off her feet by the explosion, and awoke to a world of darkness and horror. Many victims staggered up towards her house as a local shrine was nearby; she witnessed many people dying. One of her most tortured memories is giving water to victims who asked for it; they died shortly afterwards. She didn't know at the time she wasn't supposed to give burn victims water, and she kept it a secret for many years. She says she still has nightmares about that – but no eight-year-old should have to feel guilty over doing what is completely humane. In the present day, she says she still suffers 'invisible scars'. On an interpretation trip to America she was able to see the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima. She said that she broke down, sobbing, and many news cameras filmed her. After that, her brother called her and said; 'Thank goodness they used your married name – no-one knows we're related, so they don't know I'm hibakusha too.' She talked about his unhappiness at her sharing her story. But I'm so grateful she did. What a strong and brave woman. I was truly amazed by her, and truly saddened that an eight-year-old girl had to live through that experience.

She also made reference to the current situation in North East Japan. While a natural disaster, she feels that people there have seen the same level of destruction as she did in Hiroshima – a city physically and emotionally destroyed. She spoke about 'mind-mapping' the city, where survivors try to re-map the city they once knew, and it bringing together people who have experienced similar things. This seemed like a very positive approach to a disaster, which made me feel like she has turned her sadness to strength in moving on and helping others.

All of the speakers wanted us to understand they now feel no anger any more towards America or even the people who dropped the bomb. They only feel passionate now about peace; understanding; the end of nuclear arms.

They can forgive, and what amazing and inspiring people they are to do so; but they, and we as a human race, can never forget what happened here. It's as simple as that.

More reading ~

Hiroshima Peace Museum, where the talks took place

http://www.pcf.city.hiroshima.jp/top_e.html

What makes someone a hibakusha? More info

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hibakusha

There was an earthquake...

Where to even begin this update... ?

Japan has been on global news all day, every day for the last two weeks, for the worst of reasons. I was at my normal shift in Sanda when one of the biggest earthquakes in the world struck north-eastern Japan on March 11^th 2011.

The school staff asked me if I had felt the earth shake. 'No – there was an earthquake?' I asked, then went about preparing for my kids lessons as usual. It was only after I finished my shift, and was checking my mobile on the train home, that I saw a load of messages from worried friends – 'Are you OK?' 'Let us know you're OK Donna.' So, it wasn't just a tiny tremor in Kansai.

And if an earthquake alone wasn't bad enough, the location of the exact centre – not even on land, but in the sea – caused an unstoppable, terrifying tsunami.

Thousands were swept out to sea, unable to outrun water moving faster than a jumbo jet. Thousands more were killed instantly by their homes, schools, offices, collapsing on them. Buildings in Tokyo wobbled like jelly. My housemate dived under the table at a multi-national WHO conference in HAT Kobe, the very spot of Kobe's tragic quake in 1995.

There was an earthquake? In hindsight my reaction seems so understated, flippant almost. But over the last few months we have felt a few small shudders, nothing scary or long, and I've missed one or two as I was walking around when they happened.

Just as the mind slowly begins to acknowledge the devastation that a huge earthquake, followed by a tsunami, can wreak, the news feeds upped the ante: a nuclear power plant in Fukishima, damaged by the quake, was in serious danger. Nuclear. Danger. The two words no-one in the world, let alone Japan, wants to see about the country they are currently living in.

Before March 11^th, I knew next to nothing about nuclear power plants, except that they existed, somewhere in the world. Thanks to the world's media, and countless blogs and tweets, I now know more than I ever wanted. Too much, in fact. I need that part of my brain back for kanji study.

And as news of trouble at the nuclear plant continued to billow forth, while the rest of the people in my life – the konbini workers, my colleagues, my students – just carried on with life as normal, my foreign friends started to get a hunted look in their eye. And soon they voiced those fears.

'Are you scared?' 'Should we go home?' 'Is it safe for us to stay? Will the company say something?'

On March 15^th, the company I work for did indeed, issue an announcement to native staff. It included this paragraph:

“You are here in Japan now because at one point in your life, you made some connection with Japan. I am proud of your bravery in coming to live and work abroad. Please stay with us as long as possible and see and learn more about Japan. I realize that it is now a difficult time to be here, but I do hope you will gain something out of being here during this turbulent period of time. Once again, I do hope you will see the real Japan and look to the Japanese people for inspiration. Let us be calm and act accordingly.”

Something in that struck a chord with me. Yeah. I did make a connection with Japan, and I followed it, chose to be here, and that wasn't an easy decision. It affected my family, my friends, my lifestyle. It took so many hours of heart-searching to get me here. I wasn't going to be scared away so easily. Still, seeing a map of Japan with a big yellow and black radioactive symbol slapped on it made me shiver. The media really know how to sell those papers.

Clearly, this wasn't going to sort itself out overnight. I decided the best plan of action was to:

1. Get informed – what exactly was going on? And what would be the worst case scenario?

2. Get prepared – I'd long been meaning to sort out an earthquake kit. This seemed like a good time to sort that ^^;

3. Check my family were OK and not having a meltdown themselves in the wake of the news.

So, I checked the BBC news updates, watched NHK and tried to follow some of the Japanese news to get a better idea of what was happening. I visited the foreign community centre in Kobe to get info on earthquake kits. And I messaged my parents. Who, like the amazing duo they are, were calm and confident I was safe. They really are quite unflappable! *hugs them hard*

While this was happening, my French housemate was getting the other side of the coin – her family, university and the French government all urged her to leave Japan. After giving me some advice about how to prepare a radiation shelter – plus all her leftover veg – she flew back home last Friday.

She was joined by about half the French residents in Japan. The French government seems to have terrified them about the possible radiation leak, while the British government has more of a 'stiff upper lip' and uses its update page to give a practical guide to radiation safety and precautions. Still chilling, but informative.

While I'm no scientist, I feel you have to place your trust somewhere in times of crisis. So I have placed my trust in the British government, and the Japanese government, and the hundreds of people battling even as I type to get that power plant back under control. And while my work continues as normal, there's always a tingle of anxiety when I check the news. I can't wait until this is just a TV movie and not my real life.

But right now all I can do is get on with my job here. Talk to my students, give them a place and a channel to discuss what's happening. Because while the media dances around the power plant, thousands of people are still looking for their loved ones in the rubble. Thousands more have lost their family, friends, homes, offices, livelihoods. It's a sadness beyond words.

I've met students who are still waiting to hear from friends in Sendai, a place that has just been wiped off the map. Still they come to school, study hard, smile at their classmates, and wait and hope. I'm not sure I could do the same in their place. Japanese people have a reputation for being resilient, cool-headed, and community-minded. They have heavy hearts, and concerns about the nuclear problems of course, but what good would it do to cry all day, or panic and run away? Better to get on with things and let those who can, do their jobs. We have to get up, and get on, and do all we can.

I've long been amazed and inspired by this country and its people. That's why I came here, and I'm still glad I did. Ganbatte Japan – keep doing your best, and I will too.

Donate stuff, or money

Second Harvest Japan is getting food and supplies to the thousands made homeless by the disaster. You can donate money or send them care packages if you live in Japan.

http://www.2hj.org/index.php/news/send_us_food_and_supplies/

The Red Cross is a good place to send your money if you live outside of Japan.

http://www.redcross.org/