What I Really Think: The Ipponmatsu Debate

Let me be clear.  I'm not writing on behalf of Rikuzentakata City Hall, nor have they asked me to speak out on this topic, and this post is by me as an individual.  These are my thoughts, my opinions, my feelings. 

Today's topic is Rikuzentakata's Ipponmatsu.  Translated into English as the Miracle Pine, The Lone Pine Tree of Hope, and several other similar words strung together, it's about the one pine tree that stood its ground when 70,000 other of its tree siblings were washed away by the tsunami.

First, a brief history lesson.  Ancestors of those living in Rikuzentakata now planted pine trees meant to serve as a tsunami barrier along the coast of Hirota Bay, the ocean facing an expansive flat land leading into the town.  This was in the 1600s.  More pine trees were added to this initial planting, and over the past 300 plus years, the number grew to 70,000.  Paths were created so lovers could stroll at dusk.  Park benches were strategically placed.  By all accounts, this pine grove was peaceful, beautiful, and serene.

The key word here is "was."  All but one of the 70,000 pine trees were blown to bits by the tsunami, sending large trunks into buildings, cars, and people.  Even today there is a large pile of this wood in town almost white now with two years of sun exposure and salt bleaching.  They remind everyone who drives past the mound of what was.

Ipponmatsu, the miracle pine is the one tree left standing.  Or, again, was. 

The short version is this:  this tree, the miracle, the lone survivor died.  Its roots steeped in salt water, the tree was declared dead in the fall of 2011.  The city spent a good amount of time deciding what to do.  On the one hand, the perseverance personified by this tree gave hope to those who were left in the town and to those visiting.  "Life goes on" is what it says.  "If I can withstand a massive wall of water, you can defy hardships as well" is the message it sent out.  The city could cut it down, the tree having served its purpose.  Or, it could attempt to preserve it.  But, how?  How does one go about "preserving" a 27-meter tree?  And who pays for this?

Politicians, businessmen, and visitors to Rikuzentakata made similar suggestions on their trips:  "Why don't you leave old city hall (or the gymnasium, or the library, or the museum) as a monument?  That way people can come here for generations and see what the tsunami did.  It would be like Tohoku's version of the Hiroshima Memorial."  There's some sense to this.  Showing just what the tsunami did, that there was a beat up, bent out of shape car in the lobby of city hall mixed in with chairs and desks and broken glass, that the floor of the gymnasium was covered with several inches of ocean sand with various kinds of artifacts and debris strewn around the floor--this would show the power of the waves, that a robust evacuation plan is a must, that every city everywhere must put time into creating a strategy for how to survive a disaster.  What these same politicians, businessmen, and visitors did not take into account is this:  people died here.  For those still living in town who lost family members, friends, and colleagues, these grotesque buildings are reminders.  Every time they see the gaping monuments they're ripping off the band-aid keeping them together.  Save the buildings?  So others can visit and learn and understand?  What about those with band-aids?

The problem with the analogy with Hiroshima is that no one who made the decision to keep the dome in its place is left to ask how these decisions were made.  Similarly, almost all of Hiroshima was wiped out, hundreds of thousands of lives lost.  It was war.  No apples and oranges comparison here.  Apples and spaghetti, maybe.  War and tsunamis are both disasters.  Apples and spaghetti are both food.  The comparison ends there.

Rikuzentakata City Hall decided to preserve the tree.  The cost for this was unprecedented:  preserving the tree required new technology, multiple processes, and a task no one had ever undertaken in Japan to date.  The price tag is somewhere around 1.5 million US dollars.  That's a lot of money for a tree.  Yes.

Critics say, "If you're going to raise that kind of money, why don't you build temporary homes faster instead?"  Others have said, "You're creating a cyborg."  Still others have said, "You're taking away money from other projects donors might give to."  Here's where I roll my eyes.  Dear people.  Do your homework before you cast stones.  Please.

The only criticism I might agree with is the "cyborg" comment.  Fine.  It's no longer a "tree."  So what?  The tree died.  Would it have been better to cut it down and leave a gaping hole, a stump that would rot, or a plaque reading "here's where the miracle pine was"?  That provides hope?  To whom?  How?

True, the cost for the preservation of the tree is steep.  But, as far as I'm concerned those who don't live here, who don't have to muster up faith and hope and the will to go on need to back off and take a seat.  The Metropolitan Government of Tokyo just spent a huge amount of money luring the Olympic Committee to host the 2020 Olympics.  I live in Tokyo.  As far as I can see, we're fine here.  We don't need tourist yen injected into our city to survive.  Why is no one writing about that?  Where are the reporters (foreign and Japanese) who question whether this was a justifiable or smart use of funds? 

If money was being taken away from other projects, if donors all of a sudden stopped showing up at Rikuzentakata City Hall offering assistance all because of the Ipponmatsu I, too, might question whether all this publicity on one tree was a good thing.  This is not the case.  I've personally worked with organizations still interested in helping the city.  Right there is proof money is not drying up.

As for "build temporary houses faster".... oh, honey.  You really have no clue, do you?  We would be building homes faster if we could.  Typical of what the city faces is this:  thirteen months from three government ministries for paperwork approval to build public housing.  That's the problem.  Not a tree.

Without selling papers, magazines, finding and keeping sponsors for television and internet news, the media can't and won't survive.  I get that.  I do find it rather tedious and tiresome, however, that some reporters have to go out of their way to butcher a story to guarantee sales.  It's the name of the game, I suppose.  Sad, really.

Rude, Stupid, and Clueless: Those Who Get It and Those Who Don't

On the eve of another US Presidential election, I sit in Japan (not eve here) and wonder what's going to happen over the next several days.  Often struck by how angry my friends are at those who disagree with them, violently at times, absolutely sure they are right in their opinions and thoughts and beliefs, the election and whatever the outcome will be......it all feels like a lose-lose situation.  How much more divided can the US be?  The polls are split at 49% for each candidate.  Will we know for sure in 48 hours, or will there be another recount, postponing the inevitable for another several weeks?  I dread this.  It's depressing.

At which point I tell myself "at least I get to vote."  I may be voting for the "one I dislike less" but I still get to vote.  Those in Japan do not.  That's just the beginning of the list of countries where ordinary citizens do not get to cast a ballot for their leader.  I would not handle that well, especially considering there have been rumors, promises, and challenges surrounding the current Japanese Prime Minister and his Cabinet.  As in, they're out by the end of the year.  I would want a say in picking someone, in the hopes they'd stay longer than eighteen months.  I'll stop there, as anything else I write will be cruel.

The gap between people with such strong opposing viewpoints--this seems to be a real trend.  Or, perhaps I'm just seeing more of it, having been thrust into the middle as of late.  With both sides convinced, truly convinced they're right, often I find there's no point in continuing the discussion.  If I don't agree with them, I'm simply wrong.  The opposite is true as well.  That's the part we don't often admit.  We judge others who disagree with us just as harshly as they do us, except when they don't agree with us we tend to think they're small-minded and stupid (which we mostly don't say out loud), and when we don't agree with them we're just wrong.

Apply this to what's going on in Tohoku, and very possibly in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.  (Or, any natural disaster for that matter.)  There's a word tossed around Japan that outlines the gap between those affected and those far removed.  The literal translation is "temperature difference."  The distance between those who get it (from the Tohoku locals' perspective) and those who don't is, simply put, a major problem.  Everyday I hear a new story about someone who says or does something unbelievable.  Locals shake their heads saying, "If you're not here, you simply don't get it" meaning they're not fond of, nor do they appreciate those in Kasumigaseki (Japan politics central located in Tokyo) who create policy and have yet to come to Tohoku, all while formulating plans and solutions in their heads with no practical knowledge.  I point out there are plenty "here" who don't get it either.  Here are examples of both.

Federal funds allocated to Tohoku relief are used for impish projects.  The latest is money sent to fix a highway in Okinawa.  That, for those unfamiliar with Japanese geography, is as far as you can get from Tohoku.  The press had a field day with the "injustice."  As they should.

Then there are the locals who move forward, getting things done, getting publicity for doing so who are criticized in ways that hit below the belt.  Just recently, the wife of a prominent and active Ofunato man received criticism for accepting a donation of vitamins from a friend for her brother recently diagnosed with a grave illness.  "If multivitamins work then you don't need hospitals.  What's the point of him getting treatment?  And, how are you special enough to get a donation of vitamins?"  This is helpful how?  That it was said on Twitter (can't say it to your face?) makes it all the worse.

In the end, we're all mean to each other.  This temperature difference, those who say things that really shouldn't be said and those who just think things that shouldn't be said, those who truly believe they're right and look upon others who don't agree with them with a "how stupid are you?" look and attitude...this scares me.

There are plenty of times in history where we did some pretty horrific things to each other because we were so convinced we were right.  Careful, people.  Be nice.  Whoever becomes the next US President, and whoever says cruel things to you, careful how you respond.  Someone has to take the high road, and the more of us who can and do the better.