If you haven't experienced an earthquake, or if you haven't experienced multiple earthquakes this might come as a surprise to you. In short, not all earthquakes are alike.
Case in point, the M5.2 that hit near Tokyo earlier this morning was what I call a "shaker." My building moved side-to-side. Then there are the "zingers." This is like a rubber band being pulled back and let go. There's one or two large "bangs" or "zings" with little else. It's a jolt. Then there are the "jumpers" which bounce buildings up and down as if 1000 people on one floor are all jumping up and down in sync.
This all has to do, presumably, with how the plates are moving underneath us. I'm no seismologist. I understand the gist of it, know that it happened (or that it's happening), and can at times hear the earth rumbling under me just a few seconds before the shaking begins. It's all getting rather annoying, tiresome, and is still a bit scary.
Not scary enough, however, to get me out of bed at 5am when I'm aware another earthquake is hitting us. My body wakes up, and my mind knows what's going on. I make myself think through how much the building is shaking, and if it's "not that bad" I roll over. This bothers me.
When there have been this many earthquakes in Japan in the past year, I argue we've all become so used to movement, complacency is a natural consequence. We can't possibly freak out with every jolt, big or small. Right? Really? How much do we have to shake before we become truly concerned? Many people would answer, "We'll know it when it happens." It's a survival tactic. We would all become nervous wrecks if we allowed ourselves to be concerned each time another aftershock hit.
All this to say, assigning cute names to the types of earthquakes aside, Japan is still shaking. Not being able to do anything to stop them, we live with them daily. They're like the really annoying relative who just won't leave the table after a meal. How long he's staying is anyone's guess. This too shall pass, yes?
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