Strawberry Farm

You know that story about the kid throwing starfish back into the ocean, and the old man asks “why bother? there are so many that you’re not going to make a difference.”  Then the boy says as he throws one more starfish into the ocean, thus saving its life, “it mattered to that one.” 

That’s kind of how I felt today. 

The Medical group finally got permission to go on the volunteer clean-up trips (don’t ask why we couldn’t go until now), so I went today.  Instead of going to the pig farm like Lyana did last week, we went to the strawberry farm.  However, because of the giant manure pile, it did smell like a pig farm.  (note to self:  do not eat a cheese stick while standing downwind from a mountain of manure)

Two bus-fulls of eager volunteers converged on one small farm.  Much of the work on this farm had already been done by other groups in the preceding days, so when we got there, most of the labor-intensive work was already done, but there was still something for us to do.

We fanned out across the fields, picking up trash and debris and separating (yes that’s right) into plastics and metals.  It was sad to see how the crops were simply destroyed.  Plump red strawberries attached to crushed and wilted stems dotted the ground. 

Truth be told, it was difficult to tell if the trash we found was there before or after the tsunami.  I wanted to keep this guy, but we were not supposed to scavenge (don’t tell anyone, but I kept a rock that I found).

During lunch break I dropped my sandwich.  I also went for a walk on the beach.  Well, I mostly just stayed on the concrete sea wall next to the beach.  If it weren't for that wall, there would be a whole lot more damage up here. 

This is next to an estuary, just beyond the sea wall that separates it from the strawberry farm.  Not much to see here, but then you notice those two concrete blocks on the left side of the picture.  Those weigh at least a ton . . . and they’re not supposed to be there. 

This is the sea wall.  To the left is the ocean and to the right is the forest (you can see the first row of trees bent over from the wave), then beyond the forest is a canal and then the strawberry farm.  The wave wasn’t as big here as it was in Sendai, but it still managed to do a lot of damage where it could.

The elderly lady in the center was the owner of this farm.  This is where that starfish thing comes in.  You see, there were no overturned boats, crushed cars or pulverized homes on this strawberry farm.  There was just a lot of plastic and a lot of metal and a whole lot more plastic.  One of the main jobs we did was pull apart huge piles of muddy tarps, some of which were 50 feet long, and tying them in bundles (like big bowls of spaghetti).

When we finished, and that old lady gave a deep Japanese bow, I knew that what we did today on that little farm somewhere in Hachinohe where hardly anyone knows exists, mattered to her.  Her fields, farm, livelihood were washed away in a flash, and who knows when she’ll be able to get a good crop again, what with the salt from the ocean infiltrating the soil.

The farmers there have a long road ahead for them, but if anything, the Japanese are known for their perseverance. 

Here’s what the farm looked like today – a semi-organized mess.

Here’s what the farm used to look like (the neighbors actually – the wave didn’t get them).  It doesn’t look like much, but for them, it’s everything.

When I got home today, I smelled strawberries.  Yum.

Rob