reactions - reaktionen

there are others whom i know who wrote about their experiences with the quake and all that happened after.
frauke is the current german volunteer in ari, so we spent the last days before the quake together (as i stayed in ari) and she left ari (and later japan) shortly after me, even though she did not want to. her account is under http://fraukesfsj.wordpress.com/

and fuji is another former ari-volunteer, like me, but unlike me he studied in japan afterwards and was (or is?) about to start working in ari as a staff member. his blog is one of the most interesting collcetions of thoughts about japan, germany, faith, art and other things, and he also wrote about the quake now - which he did not expericne just as directly, since he was in kyoto at the time. http://www.fujishimaitsuo.de/2011/03/21/zwischen-panik-und-alltag/
(sorry, german)
and also http://www.fujishimaitsuo.de/2011/03/23/den-untergang-herbeigeredet/

there's also more reports about the situation on the homepage of EFARI, the european friends of ARI, under www.efari.org

and more on http://www.friends-ari.org/ about how ari looks like and what people there are doing to deal with their own lives and help those coming from fukushima now.

...so where am i now?

it's easy to answer, of course: i am in wiesbaden, germany, europe.
so what?
well, for one thing, i just started writi n'i am at home', but then i deleted that. yes, this is my parent's house, and i lived here for about 8 years. but even now, where i don't yet have a room in marburg, i feel that marburg is a more of a home to me.
and isn't it weird that i have capacitiy to think about such things?
well, the old, known conflicts are still there, and somehow more alive back here. somehow this time i didn't have the chance to feel any transition from japan to germany, i plunged from one to the other so quickly, my mind still busy with trying to keep on top of all that had happened.
the last entry was in german, sorry for that... somehow i felt i had to use my mother tongue, the language i can control and use so much better, to find the first words to what happened for me.
i called that last entry 'cracked lips'. first, i was planning to call it 8.8 (or, as later announced, 8.9, and then it became 9.0). would have been a nice, catchy title - only it wouldn't have been right, as i realized.
because this whole thing is not about the singular moment of that one strong quake. it was about the long chain of splinters of memory, starting from the hours before, when i went into my bed, having caucht a cold, but relieved that i could finally relax, get well and prepare for the last week of being in japan. and ending? no, it didn't end yet. not even for me, who left the country.
it isn't about the minutes of the first quake, nor about that first day only. it is about all the aftershocks, each of them alarming you again, until you are not sure anymore if you are just dizzy or feeling the next shock. the way you look at your sorroundings change: where could i get out, where could i hide, and is there glass near that could break?
indeed, the first thing all of us (several other germans i got to know at narita airport while staying there overnight) felt when landing in seoul was 'thank god, no more aftershocks'. and the weird thing is, i had thought i had become totally nervous in tokyo, misunderstanding every movement of the earth as an aftershock. only later did i hear how strong some of them where, and that under usual cirsumstances people would have left the buildings when feeling such strong quakes, only now they didn't seem significant anymore.
so, why 'cracked lips'?
because that was the one thing i felt all the time since the earthquake. i don't know why... i guess it was nervousness that made my lips dry, just as your throat gets dry, and then we didn't have so much water in ari, and then i was busy going from here to there, so i never had enought time and chance to drink some water. so, my lips were painfully dry, cracking and bleeding, and in my nervousness i bit them and chewed them, which made everything worse, of course.
they got better only now, when i came home.
i don't feel like re-telling my story yet again, the surprise of the quake (which was not tooo terrible in our place, i think), the frustration when seeing all the destruction inside the houses (everything was a mess! where should you start cleaning that all up!), sitting around the fire the whole afternoon and evening, no-one having a clear idea of what to do (which frustrated me), freezing (yes, i was basically freezing until i was in overheated narita airport), but also becoming one's own catastrophe tourist - all of us wandered around after the quake, pointing at especially impressive damage (wow, look at that!), taking pictures, and we were even looting ourselves, taking the cookies and carrot juice which are on sale in the main building and eating and drinking them ourselves.
but, just to give you an overview: i was in ari, nasushiobara-shi, tochigi-ken, north of tokyo, at the time of the quake, and i stayed there until the afternoon of the following day. that day was the worst, because my folks at home sent me increasingly panicking messages about the nuclear plant in fukushima, which was around 100km away from ari, and told me i had to get out, but when i asked any staff member, the answer was something like 'we don't know anything sure', which drove me mad, because it felt so fatalistic and gave me nothing to calm my folk's panic. but what should i do? i had limited access to news, since we had only radios and they were in japanese, and my japanese is way too bad to understand that. so, i didn't know much about the situation of traffic, railways and how it looked like in other parts of the country. so i had no idea where i should go. and how. so, no chance. so i started joining the cleaning up of the place, allbeit with something in my stomach and around my heart.
finally, in the afternoon, the news went worse and the staffs decided to let people go and - more importantly - to help them leaving. and so i packed my stuff and left, along with three other volunteers/working visitors and yukiko, a staff member who drove us, first until utsunomiya, but when she heard that most people where leaving ari, she went with us to tokyo.
so, first night in tokyo, in a house of the student christian fellowship on a carpet, with moe, a friend from ari and a great help with her cheerfulness and aura of stability. (i felt bad, seeing her being so composed, and there was i, so shocked...)
next morning, she left for kyoto (her home), and i had to stay. my passport was still at the chinese embassy, so i had to wait until monday to pick it up. my folks got me a flight to germany on tuesday. (oh my - two more nights? how should i manage.)
went to church on sunday, which saved me - i had made friends with some people there, and they were all there again, hugging me, talking to me, a way to deal with what happened, and i was not alone. during service, there was at least one bigger aftershock. and i cried half of the time, tears streaming down my face during the songs, the reading... 'amazing grace', verse 3: 'and grace will lead us home'
a missionary from the philippines, debbie, graciously took me in - one of the many angels i met in those days (some of the church friends had been angels, too, especially a young couple from the philippines, pepper and rance, with their warmth and understanding and friendliness, and alan, who helped me getting a first grasp on my totally confused emotions), taking care of me, giving me warmth and some stability and empathy in those weird times. i was glad that i could stay in their home that night, and slept better than the nights before, even though again i woke up from the aftershocks. actually, i felt i was 'earthsick' - like seasick...
and, all the time in tokyo, i was so shocked at the normality of life there, the glittering glass windows of omotesando still decorated, people still shopping chanel and louis vitton, still going to work - i was in the rush hour next morning, with all my luggage -, the weirdest was saturday night, when we arrived from ari, with all our lugage, still wearing the same clothes we had been wearing since the quake; working clothes for a farm; and now we stood at the big station of shinjuku, where people where coming back from parties, smelling with alcohol and dressed in party clothes.
and, all the time, i had to work, to function, no chance to think, to deal with anything, i was just busy trying to stay on top of the current, and maybe i was shocked, but i don't know, i didn't have the luxury of wondering about that, i just had to keep going, keep going, just go there, get your luggage, go here, do that, find something to eat, find the next train, find a way to the airport, talk to your parents, boyfriend, sister without having a breakdown, trying to keep the tears at bay, trying to remember to breathe, trying not to scream...
but - what did i have to break down about? i mean, nothing had happened to me, really. i had experienced the quake and came out unscathed, and no-one i knew had been hurt, and the buildings didn't collapse. so, what was it? no, compared to others i had experienced nothing.
nothing but the worries of my folks, the hours of trying to get through to them to let them know i was fine. and that terrible saturday in ari, with the worries rising, and nothing to do. at that day, i suddenly realised that indeed, it is possible that something bad could happen to me. that i could experience something terrible, end up loosing my health for the rest of my life, even die. it is possible - to end up like people you read about, or hear about in the news. there is no guarantee that my life should be happy, and fine, and healthy.
and nothing to do - except praying, but then, obviously earthquakes and disasters are part of god, and god lets them happen, so somehow it seems ok for him, so why should he now stop it all just because i, insignificant little being, ask for it? god isn't a saving god in the way that he directly intervenes, it seems to me, so he might not stop something terrible from happening - to me, or to others...
finally, after an odyssee (the trains where not running properly anymore, so i waited in ueno from 11 to 17 o'clock), i was in narita, found some other people, they were handing sleeping bags out for all those who had to stay overnight just like us, and we had electricity and internet, and everything seemd to gradually become better. we discussed amongst us, all of us feeling that the german media had been very pessimistic, even alarmistic about the power plant, even wondering if we hadn't been to hasty in leaving. next morning the next shock: the flight would be 3 hourse delayed, and then it wouldn't go home directly, but stop in seoul. for nine hours.
well, what else to do than to take that, too.
but, finally, take off, and i had a thought that is so despicable... 'now anything can happen here'. i was so glad to be out, to have left the constant threat, that for this moment i didn't care at all about all those i left behind.
and then, seoul, which was ok, and then home. by parents were there, and my boyfriend, and i got food, and a safe bed.
and now i am here. it is weird to be back, and without any transition, and all the time i spent in japan seems blotted out, far far away, almost forgotten. i am glad i am here, and i still think it was the right decision. not only because it brought me to a safe place, and not only because it made my parents happy. but also because i would not have helped anyone by staying. there was nothing i could have done, right now. instead, i would have been one more person to use up the very necessary electricity, and ate food which is getting a little more rare (although, don't worry, it's still far from food shortage, as far as i know), and there is one more, more important reason: had i waited until i had to get out, it would have been impossible. tokyo is too crowded, there are so many people there. if all of them knew they had to leave, all the streets would be blocked.
so, waiting for the necessary moment would have meant waiting until it was too late.
and - by leaving beforehand, i am one less person who would crowd the streets and trains in the critical moment.
but, anyway, hopefully my worries will prove exaggerated.
but i am still not really out of there, i am still glued to the news every night, and reading the newspapers, and hoping fervently. and praying too, yes...
no, i won't find rest before this power plant calms down. and even after that, the catastrophe for those hit by quake and tsunami is no bit less. they are suffering, and their suffering will not stop even if the nuclear problem is somehow dealt with.
and i still don't know what is waiting in my own heart and memory... maybe not much. but i am not sure... it will take more time to find that out.

Rissige Lippen

Ich habe endlich mal wieder gut geschlafen. Zum ersten Mal seit dem Beben, das heute genau eine Woche her ist. Zwar immer noch nicht lang – der Jetlag verwirrt meinen Schlafrhythmus noch einigermaßen – aber wenigstens fast durchgehend.

Sebastian schläft noch – endlich. Endlich sind auch sie wieder eingermaßen ausgeruht, mein Freund und meine Familie, die vor Sorge keine Ruhe finden konnten in der vergangenen Woche.

Ja, wir sind alle erleichtert. Langsam sickert es durch, das Wissen, dass jetzt ‚alles gut’ ist. Dass ich mich nicht weiter durchkämpfen muss, aufrecht halten muss, sondern dass ich zu Hause bin. Dass ich nicht mehr ständig auf der Hut sein muss vor Nachbeben, nicht jedes Haus, jeden Ort auf seine Erbebenanfälligkeit hin betrachte (Könnte ich raus? Wenn nicht, wo drunter könnte ich Schutz suchen? Wo gibt es Glasscheiben oder ähnliches, was wirklich gefärhlich werden kann?). Dass ich nicht meht auf dauernder ‚Handy- Wache’ bin, auf den nächsten Anruf von zu Hause wartend, möglicherweise mit neuen Sorgen bereitenden Botschaften aus dem AKW.

Aber gleichzeitig ist ja gar nichts vorbei. Überhaupt gar nichts. Nur dass ich da raus bin, ändert für alle anderen Menschen dort nichts. Und so ist meine Erleichterung auch mit schlechtem Gewissen gemischt. Und vor allem kann ich nicht loslassen. Kann die Anspannung nicht auflösen – nicht, solange die Lage in Japan noch so schlimm ist. Und damit meine ich nicht nur, vielleicht nicht mal vor allem die AKWs, sondern viel mehr die Situation der Menschen. Eine Situation, für die ich kein ehrlich passendes Adjektiv finden kann.

Und im Verhältnis zu dem, was passiert ist und was weiterhin passiert, ist meine eigene Geschichte glimfplich verlaufen. So sehr, dass ich jetzt zögere, sie aufzuschreiben.

Das ist ein Gefühl, das mich schon seit Tagen begleitet, seit ich Samstag Abend aus Tochigi-ken nach Tokyo kam. Bin ich jetzt ein Flüchtling aus den betroffenen Gebieten? Irgendwie ja schon… und allein die Tatsache, dass ich einen der letzten Flüge aus Narita Airport gekriegt habe (eine Tatsache, die mir überhaupt nicht bewusst war, Gott sei Dank), zeigt etwas vom Ernst der Lage.

Andererseits ist mir eigentlich nichts passiert. Mir nicht, und niemandem, dem ich kenne. Ein weiterer Grund für unendliche Dankbarkeit. (Und Irritation: So ist mir das Leben derer, die ich kenne, wichtiger als das derer, die ich nicht kenne?) Die Gebäude des Asian Rural Institutes, in dem ich die Woche gewohnt und gearbeitet hatte, sind alle stehengeblieben, nur die Dachkonstruktion des einen hat Schäden, und die Inneneinrichtung ist völlig im Eimer, Splitter und Chaos überall. Schlimm genug, wenn man an die Arbeit denkt, die es machen wird, das alles aufzuräumen. (Allein das Main Building, in dem die Verwaltung ARIs untergebracht war! Alle Akten, alle Bücher, Papiere, Daten durchainandergewirbelt, umgefallen… ein furchtbarer Anblick.)

Es ist seltsam. Während der Zeit, die ich mich nach dem Erdbeben bis nach Hause durchschlagen musste (in ARI, nach Tokyo, zur chinesischen Botschaft, wo mein Pass noch war, zum Flughafen, nach Seoul und endlich nach Hause), schien meine Geschichte, meine Sicht aus einem einzigen roten Faden zu bestehen. Ein Schritt nach dem anderen auf dem Plan. Das war es, woran ich mich festhielt, um nicht umzufallen. Immer nur den nächsten Schritt vor Augen. Kopf gesenkt, Schultern hochgezogen, Zähne zusammengebissen. So.

Du bist endlich in Tokyo. Jetzt also (mit zwei anderen) zu dem Ort, an dem wir schlafen konnten. Ok. Wo gibts was zu Essen. Ok. Wie halte ich den Sonntag aus? In eine bekannte Kirche gehen. Ok. Schlafplatz für Sonntagnacht gefunden. Muss mein Gepäck holen. Ok. Montag: Du gehst jetzt zur Botschaft und holst deinen Pass. Ok. Geschafft. Jetzt zum Flughafen. (Das dauerte nicht wie sonst etwa zwei, drei Stunden, sondern acht. Aber was solls. Irgendwie nach Ueno, dort warten, dann in den überfüllten Zug gespält werden.) Ok. Hier warten bis morgen, bis du einchecken kannst. Ok. Flug verspätet und über Seoul umgeleitet, wo er 9 Stunden warten wird. (Scheisse scheisse scheisse, oh nein, warum auch das noch?) Dann halt das auch noch. In Seoul warten. Endlich wieder einsteigen – auf em Weg nach Hause.

So hatte mein Erleben in dieser Zeit den deutlichsten roten Faden, den man sich vorstellen kann. Aber jetzt, wo die Anspannung nachlässt, zerfällt alles. Als wäre das Magnetfeld, das die Teile zusammengehalten hätte, ausgeschaltet worden, und alles zerfällt wieder in Einzelteile.

Erinnerungsscherben an die Nachbeben, so viele, dass man irgendwann nicht mehr weiß, ob einem schwindlig ist oder das schon wieder das nächste Beben ist. An den Durst – warum ist mein Mund auf einmal so trocken? An Lippen, die so aufgesprungen und trocken sind, dass sie wehtun, und an denen ich doch herumkaue, bis sie bluten. An die Fahrt nach Tokyo, mit schlimmer werdenden Nachrichten im Radio und dem Gefühl, das ist doch alles surreal, fliehen wir grade eigentlich? Vor ner Wolke? Und wenn ja, warum fährt Yukiko dann immer noch nur 70 km/h? An offene Restaurants überall an der Straße, wie immer, und Normalität (wirklich? Meint ihr das Ernst?) in Tokyo; in den Erdbebenklamotten in Shinjuku am Bahngleis stehen, Samstag nacht, und neben uns die normalenen besoffenen Party-Leute. Wie kann das sein? An klappernde Fenster und ‚Erdkrankheit’ (statt Seekrankheit). An die Hilflosigkeit, als meine Familie Samstag immer ängstlicher, panischer wurde und ich in ARI nichts machen konnte, die Japaner nicht mehr sagten als ‚man weiß nichts genaues’.

Ans Abheben im Flugzeug, das so sehr ruckelte beim Beschleunigen zum Starten, dass ich dachte ‚oh Gott, bitte nicht noch ein Erdbeben’. An die Freundlichkeit und Hilfbereitschaft so vieler Menschen, auch wildfremder. An die Kirschblüten im Ueno- Park und die Touristen, die sie begeistert fotografierten, und ich fragte mich, ob meine Entscheidung auszureisen nicht doch überstürzt war. An den Kirchgang am Sonntag, bei dem mir den halben Gottesdienst lang die Tränen übers Gesicht liefen. An den Samstag, an dem mir klar wurde, dass es möglich ist – dass mir was passieren kann, was Schlimmes, hier, heute, jetzt bald, dass ich zu eine der Tragödien werden könnte, die man sonst nur im Fernsehen sieht, dass ein zufriedenes und heiles Leben, was ich für mich immer angenommen hatte, keine Selbstverständlichkeit ist. An die schönen Veilchen am Wegesrand. An den Staff Room, nach dem Beben, wo die Staffs ein Meeting gehabt hatten und Notizbücher und Kaffeetassen noch auf den Tischen standen. An Japaner, die in Hausschuhen rausgerannt waren – und ich dachte, dann muss es wirklich ernst gewesen sein. An das ständig laufende Radio – auf japanisch. Wie erst langsam die Neuigkeiten hereinsickerten, wir erst allmählich das Ausmaß des ganzen erahnten. Wie Freitag um fünf Uhr morgens der Strom wieder anging. Die Telefonate und SMS mit meiner Familie – und der Nachsatz ‚ich hab dich so lieb’, der mich am meisten fertig machte, weil er diese Angst in sich trug, was, wenn das das letzte war, das sie von uns hört? (Oh Gott oh Gott oh Gott)

And die Hilflosigkeit, man kann nur noch beten, aber offensichtlich ist Gott auch ein Gott, der so etwas geschehen lässt, und vielleicht ist es auf lange Sicht/ aus seiner Sicht auch gar nicht so schlimm, also bringt beten überhaupt was? Warum sollte er mich verschonen, wenn er so viele nicht verschont hat?

An die Menschen, die Engel für mich waren, die mir geholfen haben, sich um mich kümmerten, mir einen Schlafplatz gaben, zu Essen, Gesellschaft, Wärme.

An die Pressekonferenz, während der sich alle in leeren Phrasen übten, dass ich mich von ihnen verraten fühlte.

An die Normalität in Tokyo, die Cafés, die normal offen waren und gut besetzt.

An die vielen Nachrichten von Freunden und Bekannten, die an mich dachten. (Danke euch allen!)

Und, auch, an die Scham: Warum scheint dieses Beben so viel mehr Mitgefühl auszulösen als das in Haiti, das doch in seinen Auswirkungen viel schlimmer war, oder?

An das Entsetzen vor dem Fernseher in Deutschland: Lybien, Bahrain, Japan, was noch? Ist das die Apokalypse? (Und es sagt viel über den Zustand meiner Nerven aus, dass ich sowas denke.)

reasons to be grateful

it's been a while..!
i am sorry. i meant to write erlier, of course. it's just, too much has happened which kept me from writing, and then it all piled up more and more, so i had more and more to write about, which made me hestitate even more, because it was bound to be a long article, and i just didn't have any energy for that.
but, you deserve an update.
so. how to start? thelalst entry was written in fukuoka, still traveling with alois. i am writing this now in ari (the asian rural institute), tochigi-ken (ken=prefecture), north of tokyo. and in between... oh my goodness.
it started in kamakura, where i stayed for one week, to do an internsip with a pastor. the time was nice, even though i got more and more exhausted from traveling. the pastor and his family (i stayed at their house) were friendly, taking care of me, and the only problem was that once more i felt so bad at being a guest, at being in the way, a burden, someone others have to take of. i feel bad when someone cooks for me, every day, and i can't even do the dishes.
but, apart from that, it was really nice and much more interesting thatn i expected. well, except for that fact that my japanese is still so bad that most of the time i was sitting in the middle of some group (bible study, meetings...) not understanding much and trying to keep my smile convincing.
but then. on day two there. i realized the second most dreadful thing that can happen to you when you travel had happened to me: i lost my passport. (well, maybe third most dreadful, first being getting really ill and second losing your wallet.)
oh my goodness.
i could hardly sleep that night, after i had searched all my belongings and hadn't found it.
next day we started the great search (calling the hostels, alois and finally going to the police). nothing. the thing was lost - or stolen? i still don't know.
so, reason for gratefulness #1 was how much the pastor and his wife helped me. because i really was in a state.
nevertheless, i knew what i had to do. so, even though i was freaking out, i didn't lose my head.
something i am also grateful for. (#2)
the police were really nice, too. only unable to turn anything up. since i had lost my passport at some point during the kyushu trip, it could've turned up in a wide area...
so. the german embassy was less helpful (germans! beaurocracy!), but at least i figured out what i had to do.
unfortunately, i got an appointment for the embassy only a week later. originally, i had planned to go to ari right after kamakura. now, everything had to be changed, since the embassy is in tokyo, and going to ari just to go back down to tokyo one day later wouldn't have made any sense. (plus, it would've been really expensive.) so, i turned around all my plans.
and the people were all soooo helpful!
two friends let me stay in their apartment in tokyo - and shared their time and meals with me. several days, i bothered them in their small (but beautiful) flat. and i was really, very grateful that they put up with me. (#3)
another friend accepted that we should meet several days later. (#4)
and that sunday i accompanied fuji, who is another former ari volunteer and a friend, to his church - he just found a church in tokyo that he likes, and i was interested and joined him on sunday. well, the church was nice, but a little too american to me, i thought after the service. but then, we stayed longer, for bible study, and - more importantly - went for lunch afterwards. and there, i got to know so many really nice, intresting, friendly people! the 'youth' of the church (meaning they are mostly less then 30 years old), and since this church is english-speaking and ecumenical, those people were, too. there were people from the philippines, japan, america, hong kong, taiwan, vietnam...
it was a great day. and with some quite interesting, difficult topics, too. and so, suddenly, unexpectedly, i had found a group of friends in tokyo. (#5)
so. the visit to the embassy having been more or less succesful, i went up to ari, on the way meeting with an old friend. she had been volunteer with me in ari. and it was really nice to meet her again.
and then, i as in ari. strange, to be back after such a long time... and almost nothing had changed, and i could remember everything, my feet could go the ways by themselves - only most people are different now. still, i was welcomed enthusiastically by those who still knew me and friendly by the 'new' ones. and it felt good, being back here, where i know what i have to do. a bit of relaxing was finally possible to me, after such a long time of being a stranger in different places.
but, well, a few days later i went back to tokyo, to pick up my new interim passport from the embassy and get the japanese and chinese visa again. and while organising that, i had some trouble again (and one big 'oh my god'-moment) - and there was one staff member here who helped me so much, translating, telephoning, even taking me to the station in the early morning. (#6)
and in tokyo, i could stay in another dormitory, on short notice. (#7)
and i met fuji again, who went with me to all those embassy and immigration office stuff, translating, if necessary, and keeping me company, distracting me, stopping me from worrying - and we had such intersting talk! sitting in the train, café, embassy waiting hall, and talking about god, faith, ... it was great. (#8)
and, again, surprisingly, i could go to his church with him. so i met those nice folks again, and instead of having a lonely time drifting through tokyo, as i had feared, i enjoyed those days. (#9)
well, and now i am back. everything wiht my interim passport went well. i will pick up the passport with my new chinese visa when i am back in tokyo, on the 15th most likely. so, everything there is fine.
and i am in ari, feeling accepted, even not too cold, having enjoyable work and good food. only, i also feel more exhausted than i ever did before. physically as well as otherwise. i pushed through, made myself keep going even though i felt like crumbling, so long now. so long... actually, i feel it's more than i can take, but what can i do? i'll just have to keep going, there is nothing else to do.
and it's not long anymore now.
i just hope so much that everything will be fine. (there are still some difficulties about the passport, and i cannot manage that from here, so i had to ask my boyfriend to do that, and he has to do all the legal worries... #10)
and he also managed to get the visa for mongolia and russia, for both of us, and i think that's amazing. (#11)
so. well. i really can't tell what i think about the past month. is it a great chance to realize how much i can do, and how many people are helping? (oh, i forgot to write that i had some oif the worst backpain i ever had when i was in kamakura and tokyo, i almost couldn't walk one day...) is it like a test? or is it just the worst time i ever had?
i don't know.
i'm too tired to think about it.
i just hope i will manage the last 10 days.

Nagasaki and Fukuoka (and Katsura)

so, to round the whole kyushu thing off: city traveling.
guess i don't have so much to say, though. somehow my enthusiasm to write is a little low right now. might be because i have a cold and feel really tired. or, because there just isn't so much to write about?
i mean, i already wrote about the atomic bomb museum in nagasaki. (by the way, after posting that article, I added pictures of the museum, so if you didn't see them yet, please check it out again!) and what else is there in nagasaki?
well... one thing is for sure: nagasaki has flair. it is a city i liked, which, in my opinion, has something like character. it's not just houses and houses put next to each other. it's also rivers, which are not seen as a mere hindrance, but actually are part of the city, with beautiful bridges and restaurants at the sidestreets. there are more small shops, not only the big shopping malls which look the same all over japan (or at least they look the sam to me). yes, i did like it there. plus, we stayed in a really nice hostel, comfortable, with a kitchen and living room also used by the owners and staff members, (one time they made some kind of korean sweets for anyone who happened to be there). they also try in various ways to connect their guests with the locals, like doing walking tours and giving tips for nice, local shops (i ended up buying a really cool handbag, since my old one is about to give up).
still, after all is said and done, there is only so much to see if you are a tourist in nagasaki. so the last day we spent walking around really amelessly, wondering what to do with our time.
but, in one aspect we had been really lucky: just the week we stayed in nagasaki, they had the 'lantern festival', their celebration of the chinese new year. that means, many streets were lit up with lanterns, and in several places were free shows (acrobats, music, dances...). so, we saw some acrobats, went to a concert of a group playing the 'chinese violin' (er-hu, i think) and saw a dragon dancing. the concert was interesting, beautiful yet strange, the music was somewhat modern, so closer to european harmonies than old chinese music (i think), but i think that with these instruments the exactness of intervals or that several people are playing really exatcly the same note are not as important as in western music, so sometimes i was flinshing at what i feel were 'wrong notes', though i guess they were not really wrong. but, still, this instrument is beautiful, singiing and strong. some of the pieces in 'crounching tiger, hidden dragon' were played using an er-hu.
the dragon dance was cool, too. but hard to describe. this pictue might give you and idea of it: people carrying the body of the dragon on sticks, walking in circles and then doing tricks, making the dragon curl and uncurl...

memorial of the 26 martyrs. (did i post this already?) anyway... as much as i resprect their courage, i don't know what to think about martyrism. is it sacrificing your life for something more important, or throwing it away for some belief?

no, it's not father chritmas. maybe confucius?

oh nagasaki, diese stadt, die hügel hinaufbrandend... i wonder if in 20, 30 years all the hills will be covered on houses

kites!

well... it is the year of the rabbit.

and then we went to katsura. it was damn, damn early, since the only bus left at 7:30, so we had to leave the hostel around 6:45... you can imagine. so, why didn't we go directly to fukuoka?
easy: katsura is one of japan's most famous pottery towns. and: it was worth it. not that katsura itself is such a great town. it is nice, i guess, with an old castle (which looks like basically all castels i've seen so far in japan), some beach, and even some nice houses. but that's not the point. the point is the pottery shops and galleries. of course, since it's so famous, most of the works are totally out of my financial range (like, thousands! of yen for one!cup!), but just seeing the creativity, the beauty, the skill... and there were also more affordable pieces, so i ended up buying a teacup for my sister. (which is something like a revenge for the cup she gave to me when i visited her in korea, many years ago... he he)
alois started feeling quite bad that day, so half of the time i just left him at the station and went about by myself.

getting a ticket for the bus

every available space is used for farming. every. really.

then, later, we got to fukuoka. after such a long time in kyushu, this 1,5 million-city was something of a shock. it took the bus quite a while to get from the outskirts to the main station... we checked in at our hostel (not as nice as the former one, but still alright), and alois just fell into his bed. the next days i spent exploring the city, sometimes by myself (alois had to stay in bed the whole day yesterday), sometimes with alois. and i have to say: i don't like it. it doesn't have nagasaki's charme, not kyoto's beauty, not tokyo's crazyness and diversity... it is just an accumulation of houses, most of them about 10 storeys high and without anything special. houses and houses, where people can work and sleep. and then there are the shopping malls. really, fukuoka seems like a city that constantly whispers, calls, screams 'buy something, get a new dress, have a coffee at a cool cafe, make yourself more beautiful, hip, elegant, wanted, be in the right places, have the right dinner...' and that's all the city seems to be about. spending money.
it might be fun, ambling though the shops for some hours, being impressed and shocked at the fashion here. (but, to be honest, alois is definitely the wrong companion for that. oh, how i wished for my sister, or some of my friends!) and after so much 'wilderness' (like, aso, or unzen), it is nice to have a nice cafe again for a change. but...
no. not like that. sorry, that's really not what i'm interested in.
well, at least i found some other things to see. yesterday, i went to the asian art museum, which aims at collecting the works of asian artists, mostly modern works. some of the stuff i saw there was great. and it felt good to see art again.
and today we followed on of my friend's advice and went to see one temple. it is famous for it's huge wooden buddha, which isn't the reason we went there (we saw it, but really, it was just big, the expression was kind of lifeless... in german, we call that 'hölzern', which translates as 'wooden'). behind it is a small exhibition of the buddhist hells.
quite impressive stuff. supposed to make you worry, etc. and after those hells, you are lead through a completely black corridor, you really can't see a thing. you go through there, follow it's winding course. and then, on your left, is a picture of six buddhas, beautifully lit.
i guess the message is quite clear, isn't it?
well. tomorrow, if all goes as planed, we will visit the disaster prevention center. and the day after tomorrow, we will depart - and separate. alois is going back to kyoto, and i will move up to tokyo. i wanted to take a night bus again, since it's cheap, but there is no cheap night bus that night, so i gave up and will take the shinkansen. luckily, some friends graciously accepted to have me in their home for the 16th night, so i can go to my 'job' in kamakura the following morning.
ah, how could i forget: fukuoka means ramen! of course. ramen are noodles, came from china, are usually served in a broth and with different toppings, and fukuoka is famous for its ramen. and in fukuoka, ichiran is famous. so we went there. and, indeed, it was great.
(and now, my stomach hates me for having eaten so much wheat)

this is part of a shopping mall, several storeys above the ground, with a roof on top. the mall is called eeny meeny miny moo and super-expensive.

the hell of the hungry ghosts: they are always hungry, but cannot eat nor drink

and the fighting gods: invincible, but always fighting

in the ramen place: every person has his/her own booth.

that's the stuff

beppu-aso-shimabara-unzen

So. This was my route - and i did it in something like five days. i think. i kinda lost count...
so let me start at the beginning, i guess i'll get my bearings as soon as i start writing all down.
so, the last entry i did was from that strange priest in oita, i believe. well, it didn't get better, but it was over soon. so one morning i woke up early (though at just that day i would've had the chance to sleep in! damn.), totally nervous, because it was the day my 'serious' traveling was to start, and i didn't know yet where i would sleep that night.
at noon, i was in beppu, a famous onzen (hot spring) town next to oita. alois, one of the three german guys with whom i studied in kyoto, was supposed to be there at 12, and we had agreed to meet at the station. all worries about if we would find each other disapeared immedeately - i saw him (a head taller than everyone else, and the only one with a traveler backpack like mine) immediately, even before passing through the ticket gate. it was nice to see a familiar face again, and to use my mother tongue.
well, before catching up on all that had happened, we had to find a place to stay (and get rid of all the luggage). we were incredibly lucky: there was a lady speaking perfect english at the tourist information, and she had the perfect place, close, inexpensive and, as we found out upon arriving, very comfortable.
awesome start.
and then, we set out exploring the town, walking around, talking talking talking - alois had done two internships in churches, and he is rather talkative anyway, and you know all the places i had been, so you know we had a lot of catching up to do.
beppu itself... well, the onzen are indeed great. there is steam and smell of sulfur all around the town, and there are so many different onzen! we tried out three: once we got buried in warm sand (comfortable, but kinda heavy), once we got steamed with something suppoesedly herbal (though it reminded me rather of hay), and once we went to a mud onzen. the sand thing was in the oldest onzen in town, a beautiful building, right in the middle of the red light district. ...interesting.
whatever. aside of bathing, we did what we had to do in beppu: going to hell. or, rather, visitig some of the hells. there are several sites where hot water and steam bubble up from the ground, in different colours, and there is even a geysir. well, we looked at the blood hell (a pool of red hot water, red because of the clay soil there), the sea hell (blue water, steaming like.., well, like hell) and the geysir. and all i can say is - it's nice.i guess these hells would be really amazing if they looked more natural, but since they are turned into tourist attractions, surrounded by concrete and souvenir shops, it didn't feel like some wonder of nature or a display of nature's power. rather it looked like something else people built.
but the onzen were great.

mountains and ocean... kyushu is awesome. (well, most of japan is, in that aspect, since it seems to consist of mountains and ocean, mostly)

hot sand

our room

blood hell

sea hell, with basket full with eggs boiling in there

i was asked to show a sample of current japanese style... which isn't easy do do.

the geysir

onzen ffrom the inside. links sind die duschen und wasserbehälter, wo man sich sehr ordentlich wäscht (auf hockern sitzend). erst danach geht man ins bad.

breaksfast

we also went to some bamboo craft museum. those hats are made from bamboo. and they were too small.

and then, we went on, taking the bus to aso. even though aso is something like 50km from beppu, it took about two hours by bus. the street is truly amazing, climbing an climbing, winding around hills and mountains... we took the afternoon bus, so we drove with the light of the setting sun, and it was truly beautiful. until, suddenly, we were at the ridge.
oh my goodness. that was really amazing.
i mean, you climb more hills, and suddenly the ground just - drops. right next to you, there is a cliff, and it goes down straight. for a long long time. it's hard to describe... it seems like you stand on the brink of a huge crater. huge. really, really huge, and the top line is really straight, and it goes down really vertical. and down there is the flat plain, with fields and houses, and then in the middle of that plain rise some mountains - the several volcanoes, one still active.
it looks like this (though i didn't take that picture, i found it on the internet)

only more amazing.
so, there we were. unfortunately, the hostel recommended to us was closed (winter break). well, my dear lonely planet helped us and guided us to the youth hostel, where we were the only guests.
next day, we wanted to look into the crater of aso and climb the sorrounding peaks. we were well prepared with a map, directions and provisions.
which didn't help us one little bit.

the bloody volcanoe had nothing better to do but to be so active that noone was admitted into a 1km-zone around the crater.
to make all better, we couldn't even climb any of the other pikes, all the ways were closed, maybe due to the snow? anyway, it was disappointing. i mean, we still had a nice day, went to the museum where we could look into the crater with a camera at least, and i learned how the amazing geography of the region had formed: once there had been a huge eruption, and the volcanoe threw so much material into the air that the whole region collapsed. wow.
well, so much for aso. really, there isn't more. we walked around the 'town', but we were impressed by the ...nothingness.really, there even isn't a supermarket!

so, we left that nothingness and went to shimabara (via kumamoto and ferry), the peninsula around the volcanoe unzen. the unzen had erupted not long ago, 1990. but my chief reason to go there was more historical: in the 17th century, there had been an uprising, caused by the prohibition of christianity (this area had been one of the most christian areas of japan) and the terrible poverty. the peasants actually managed to seize shimabara castle, and to hold it for several months- and then they got slaughtered. everyone.
this lead to the complete closing of the borders of japan, all foreigners were thrown out, and christianity even more strictly prohibited. there already had been signboards in every town, saying christianity was forbidden and everyone who handed over a christian was awarded several pieces of silver. there must have been terrible persecutions going on, people being tortured and killed in the most terrible ways imaginable. one was to throw them into the steming hot water of the 'hells' in unzen, now a small onzen town on the shoulder of the volcanoe of the same name, the place we visited next.

we stumbled upon a catholic church in shimabara, quite beautiful, which commemorates the christians who died for their faith (personally, i am not sure what i should think about martyrs and if i think it is worth it to give up your life rather than stepping on a picture of jesus, or even publicly denouncing your faith... i really don't know.)

look at that kid's hand

as they were persecuted, the christians went into hiding, shaping images not easily recognised as christian. one famous exaple are thos maria picures which look like pictures of kannon, the buddha associated with mercy.

the fight for shimabara castle

how can peasants without much weapons win such a castle?

the ume are blossoming! spring is coming! (notethe way i am standing: i would never stand like that in germany...)

steam rising from the ground

when i first heard about this part of japan's history, i was mostly surprised that the shogun felt christians were such a threat. somehow, i had thought there numbers in japan to alwas have been insignificant. but in the 16th, 17th century, they had been influential indeed, several nobles had been christian, and the jesuits where very influential. they brought knowledge, and trade opportunities. and then, the dutch and british came, and you had all the religious differences, everyone denouncing each other, and the dutch warned the shogun that often the missionaries were just the people making way for the portuguese invasion. since that was more or less what was just happening in china, it is somewhat understandeable that the japanese became worried. and, looking at europe's history, i have no right no point my fingers at japanese atrocities. still, it was gruesome. (by the way, christians were by far not the only ones suffering; later, there were serious times for buddhists, too, when the government tried to forcefully establish shinto as a base for society.)
so, to unzen we went. but not so much to see the hells but to climb the mountain. well, climb we did - but not quite. again, i had to learn, mountain climbing in winter is a bad idea. i guess i finally got the message. (after trying in yakushima, kirishima and aso...) it was really beautiful, but the way was damn slippy at places. and the last climb up to the peak... no way. at least not with normal trekking boots.
hmpf.

somewhere along there we went

the start and end of the way were marked by torii.

this lava dome is from the last eruption

that was yesterday. wow... started at the 2nd, today is the 8th. yesterday evening we arrived in nagasaki, after departing in the morning from shimabara, and spending the day climbing around unzen. again, here, we found a nice hostel, have a kitchen and internet. nagasaki seems to be an agreeable town, houses climbing up several hills on the coast. it also had been the only city permitted to deal with foreigner during japan's long isolation. one dutch ship was allowed to come each year, and there was a settlement of dutch on an artificial island. also, there were a good number of chinese here. so, nagasaki had been a rather international city for a long time - until the wars started. then came all the events before and during the second world war. considering that, i think most german people know very very little about how the war went here in asia. how japan fought with russia, china, occupied taiwan, korea (and both early in the 20th century) and spread over all of asia (well, basically, i know i am exaggerating here.) well, the topic of the war is still a difficult subject here, a lot of emotions are involved, so i could never deal with it sufficiently here in such a brief space. i'd have to write a whole article about it. since this is not the place for it, please excuse me for not writing more now. only so much: there were many terrible things done, and the final terrible thing was using the atomic bomb, first on hiroshima, then on nagasaki.
today, we visited the peace museum which depicts what happened to the city on that day. it is hard to describe that. the shock, the devastation, people burned, destroyed - some apparently were vaporized immediately, leaving behind only a 'shadow' on the wall.
it is scary. to know that so much destructive power is stored in so many places on this world. that people could do that again.
and ... sometimes i am mad at some japanese (only some! but unfortunately too often those writing texts for museums, and such things) for underlining only the suffering inflicted upon it by those bombs, tending to ignore the suffering inflicted by them to so many others, most of them 'fellow asians'. but on the other hand - alois had been in america, at the base where those bombers carrying the bombs had started, and the one which carried the bomb to nagasaki is still exhibited there. but not as a memorial of a terrible day. instead, he said it is a celebrated thing.
so, about that topic it seems easy for me to point my fingers at both parties. still, it makes me wonder: where are my own blind spots?
well, so much for now. we will spend more days in nagasaki, resting and discovering the place. feels good to know i will be here more then two days.
ah, one last thing: there is one brilliant graphic novel (like a comic, but telling a more serious and longer story), done by someome who survived the bomb in hiroshima as a boy and basically tellls his own story, along with many other people's stories. it's called 'barefoot gen' or, in german 'gen. barfuß durch hiroshima'. i think it is great because it depicts all the terrible things which happened, during and after the explosion (the story concinutes for years), but gen never looses hope, he never gives up completely, and however terrible those times were, there is also happiness and humor. plus, it's critical of both, the japanese and the american side. so, my recommendation: read it!

memorial of 26 martyrs, who were marched from northern japan to nagasaki and were crucified there. amongst them two boys around 13 years old

a chain of thousand paper cranes, made from one sheet of paper. cranes became the symbol of peace.

a clock, stopped by the blast.

glass rosaries, molten through the heat

the bomb. the plutonium is only the small core in the middle, 1kg, not much bigger than two fists. so much suffering from so small a thing.

all that was left from a girl who had been at school that day: her lunch box, inside it rice turned to charcoal.

that was in the peace park, where there is a statue... i was infuriated at the words 'noble sacrifices' of those who died in the bomb. it wasn't a sacrifice, they didn't have a choice, and i am sure most would not have wanted to die!