...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.