A moving Letter from Fukushima

THIS letter, written by Vietnamese immigrant Ha Minh Thanh working in Fukushima as a policeman, to a friend in Vietnam, was posted on New America Media on March 19. It is a testimonial to the strength of the Japanese spirit, and an interesting slice of life near the epicenter of Japan 's crisis at the Fukushima nuclear

power plant. It was translated by NAM editor Andrew Lam, author of "East Eats West: Writing in Two Hemispheres." Shanghai Daily condensed it.

Brother,

How are you and your family? These last few days, everything was in chaos. When I close my eyes, I see dead bodies. When I open my eyes, I also see dead bodies.

Each one of us must work 20 hours a day, yet I wish there were 48 hours in the day, so that we could continue helping and rescuing folks.



We are without water and electricity, and food rations are near zero. We barely manage to move refugees before there are new

orders to move them elsewhere.



I am currently in Fukushima , about 25 kilometers away from the nuclear power plant. I have so much to tell you that if I could

write it all down, it would surely turn into a novel about human relationships and behaviors during times of crisis.



People here remain calm - their sense of dignity and proper behavior are very good - so things aren't as bad as they could

be. But given another week, I can't guarantee that things won't get to a point where we can no longer provide proper protection

and order.



They are humans after all, and when hunger and thirst override dignity, well, they will do whatever they have to do. The

government is trying to provide supplies by air, bringing in food and medicine, but it's like dropping a little salt into the

ocean.



Brother, there was a really moving incident. It involves a little Japanese boy who taught an adult like me a lesson on how to

behave like a human being.



Last night, I was sent to a little grammar school to help a charity organization distribute food to the refugees. It was a long line that

snaked this way and that and I saw a little boy around 9 years old. He was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of shorts.



It was getting very cold and the boy was at the very end of the line. I was worried that by the time his turn came there wouldn't

be any food left. So I spoke to him. He said he was at school when the earthquake happened. His father worked nearby and was

driving to the school. The boy was on the third floor balcony when he saw the tsunami sweep his father's car away.





I asked him about his mother. He said his house is right by the beach and that his mother and little sister probably didn't make

it. He turned his head and wiped his tears when I asked about his relatives.



The boy was shivering so I took off my police jacket and put it on him. That's when my bag of food ration fell out. I picked it

up and gave it to him. "When it comes to your turn, they might run out of food. So here's my portion. I already ate. Why don't

you eat it?"



The boy took my food and bowed. I thought he would eat it right away, but he didn't. He took the bag of food, went up to where

the line ended and put it where all the food was waiting to be distributed.

I was shocked. I asked him why he didn't eat it and instead added it to the food pile. He answered: "Because I see a lot more

people hungrier than I am. If I put it there, then they will distribute the food equally."

When I heard that I turned away so that people wouldn't see me cry.

A society that can produce a 9-year-old who understands the concept of sacrifice for the greater good must be a great

society, a great people.

Well, a few lines to send you and your family my warm wishes. The hours of my shift have begun again.

Ha Minh Thanh

10 THINGS TO EMULATE FROM JAPAN

1. THE CALM

Not a single visual of chest-beating or wild grief. Sorrow itself has been elevated.



2.THE DIGNITY

Disciplined queues for water and groceries. Not a rough word or a crude gesture.



3. THE ABILITY

The incredible architects, for instance. Buildings swayed but didn't fall.



4. THE GRACE

People bought only what they needed for the present, so everybody could get something.



5. THE ORDER

No looting in shops. No honking and no overtaking on the roads. Just understanding.



6. THE SACRIFICE

Fifty workers stayed back to pump sea water in the N-reactors. How will they ever be repaid?



7. THE TENDERNESS

Restaurants cut prices. An unguarded ATM is left alone. The strong cared for the weak.



8. THE TRAINING

The old and the children, everyone knew exactly what to do. And they did just that.



9. THE MEDIA

They showed magnificent restraint in the bulletins. No silly reporters. Only calm reportage.



10. THE CONSCIENCE

When the power went off in a store, people put things back on the shelves and left quietly.

A Moving note from a friend in Sendai

Date: March 14, 2011 7:23:04 AM

HST



From my cousin in Sendai, Japan where she has lived for the

past decade teaching English. Very moving!!



Hello My Lovely Family and Friends,



First I want to thank you so very much for your concern

for me. I am very touched. I also wish to apologize for a

generic message to you all. But it seems the best way at the

moment to get my message to you.



Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am

very blessed to



have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since

my shack is even



more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's

home. We share



supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We

sleep lined up in one room, eat by candlelight, share

stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.



During the day we help each other clean up the mess in

our homes. People sit in their cars, looking at news on

their navigation screens, or line up to get drinking water

when a source is open. If someone has water running in their

home, they put out sign so people can come to fill up their

jugs



and buckets.



Utterly amazingly where I am there has been no looting,

no pushing in



lines. People leave their front door open, as it is

safer when an



earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how

it used to be in the old days when everyone helped one

another."



Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every

15 minutes. Sirens



are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.



We got water for a few hours in our homes last night,

and now it is for



half a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has

not yet come on.



But all of this is by area. Some people have these

things, others do not.



No one has washed for several days. We feel grubby, but

there are so much



more important concerns than that for us now. I love

this peeling away of



non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct,

of intuition, of caring, of what is needed for survival, not

just of me, but of the entire group.



There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a

mess in some



places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out

drying in the sun.



People lining up for water and food, and yet a few

people out walking



their dogs. All happening at the same time.



Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the

silence at night. No



cars. No one out on the streets. And the heavens at

night are scattered



with stars. I usually can see about two, but now the

whole sky is filled.



The mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp

air we can see them



silhouetted against the sky magnificently.



And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come

back to my shack to



check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the

electricity is on,



and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have

no idea from



whom, but it is there. Old men in green hats go from

door to door checking



to see if everyone is OK. People talk to complete

strangers asking if they



need help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but

fear or panic,



no.



They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other

major quakes, for another month or more. And we are getting

constant tremors, rolls, shaking, rumbling. I am blessed in

that I live in a part of Sendai that is



a bit elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So,

so far this area is



better off than others. Last night my friend's

husband came in from the



country, bringing food and water. Blessed again.



Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience

that there is indeed



an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring

all over the world



right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the

events happening now



in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My

brother asked me if I



felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't.

Rather, I feel as



part of something happening that much larger than

myself. This wave of



birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.



Thank you again for your care and Love of me,



With Love in return, to you all,



Anne