Last Thursday I went down to Noda (95km south) to help with the tsunami cleanup. I’ve seen the pictures and videos on the news, but nothing could prepare me for what I would feel once I got there. Our job was simple: pick up everything and salvage what you can. Money, photos and jewelry were to be turned in to the group leaders. All other salvageable items were to be set on the curb, and the locals would come by later to sift through them.
While sifting through mud-caked debris, I would often gaze toward the horizon, internalizing as much as I could the empty expanse before me. Silence. Sadness. Emptiness.
But there was a bustling of life as well. Residents rebuilding their homes. Japanese and American teams combing through the mud for household items. Heavy machinery collecting then carrying piles of debris from the neighborhoods. Even the highway, despite having been submerged by the great wave, is a testament to the resilience of the people here as traffic once again flows in an out of this town.
Robert
While sifting through mud-caked debris, I would often gaze toward the horizon, internalizing as much as I could the empty expanse before me. Silence. Sadness. Emptiness.
But there was a bustling of life as well. Residents rebuilding their homes. Japanese and American teams combing through the mud for household items. Heavy machinery collecting then carrying piles of debris from the neighborhoods. Even the highway, despite having been submerged by the great wave, is a testament to the resilience of the people here as traffic once again flows in an out of this town.
Robert
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