Behind The Nihon Review

Taken from the Japanese blog Kaeru Nikki.

As most of you are well aware by now, a 9.0 magnitude earthquake struck the northeastern part of Japan at 2:46 pm on March 11^th, 2011. Although the actual damage done by the earthquake seemed to be relatively minimal by most reports, the devastating tsunami that swept across the region left almost nothing in their wake. Traveling at hundreds of kilometers per hour, the monstrous waves mercilessly swallowed all in its path, rising to ten meters in height in some areas. The murky waters carried fragments of flaming buildings inland, spreading fire as cities burned for days after the initial earthquake and tsunami.

When the quake struck, I had just boarded a bus heading out of Odawara, a city southwest of Yokohama and Tokyo.

At first, the bus rocked gently, but soon the windows in the surrounding buildings began to shake, and the ground rumbled with anger. Despite all this those on the bus remained calm, with several of the old ladies calmly asking, “Is this an earthquake?” The bus driver announced that he was stopping the bus on the side of the road just as we saw dozens of people running out of the buildings around us, seeking the open space outside as various objects were tossed around violently inside buildings. Cars along the road stopped in their tracks, remaining calm and collected to prevent traffic accidents.

An eternity. A few seconds. Immediately after the earth had stilled, people inside the bus and on the streets brought out their cell phones, looking for the vital information they sought. Whispers echoed throughout my bus: “That was huge.” I read the news on my phone as the driver kicked the engine into gear. Immediately, tsunami warnings were raised across the country.

The day before the earthquake I had just finished reading Kanojo wo Mamoru 51 no Houhou, which depicts an apocalyptic disaster as the result of a large earthquake striking the Tokyo region. In the manga, the two main characters endure horrifying trials on their journey home. Structures collapsed all around them with dead body trapped in the debris, the manga presents a gruesome world, revealing to readers the psychological ordeals that disaster victims experience. It’s a bit more graphic than the anime Tokyo Magnitude 8.0, which is based on a similar premise.

One of the first things I noticed about the current situation in Japan is that the initial earthquake was nothing like what either Kanojo wo Mamoru 51 no Houhou or Tokyo Magnitude 8.0 depict. First, footage in the news showing the areas struck by the quake suggests that few buildings crumbled during the earthquake itself, with most of the damage caused by the monstrous tsunamis that resulted. Unlike in the manga and anime, where the surrounding structures almost collapse entirely, images in the news didn’t show the utter destruction one would expect after such a large earthquake. Neither manga nor anime mention anything regarding a tsunami either, which is an imminent threat after a massive earthquake. In fact, it was the the cause of so much of the destruction up north over this weekend, and arguably more destructive than the earthquake (assuming the Fukushima reactors don’t melt down completely).

Although the imagery in both works is meant to have visual impact by painting a world of destruction, in actuality Japanese engineering is capable of constructing buildings able to withstand the shaking of a megathrust much better than both manga and anime depict. In that sense, solid Japanese construction techniques saved thousands of lives on Friday in a way that fortunately proves both manga and anime wrong. However, construction can only do so much in face of a tsunami traveling at hundreds of kilometers per hour, as demonstrated by the heart-wrenching images of a devastated Japan.

Copyright @ 928 via Pixiv.

The most striking difference between Kanojo wo Mamoru 51 no Houhou and Tokyo Magnitude 8.0 is how they predict people would act during a crisis: the former provides some examples of the most shocking and inhuman behavior during a calamity, while the latter leaves its viewers with a sense of hope in humanity. While I certainly feel that the powerful, dark lines and rough style of the manga create a fitting atmosphere for a psychological thriller that embodies the despair a catastrophe can instill upon a population, I think the manga was proven wrong in its characterization of the Japanese people during a catastrophe.

Following the devastation of the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami, it quickly became clear that areas affected by the disasters remained relatively orderly despite the fear apparent in the air. Thousands of people were unable to return home the first night after the quake in Tokyo as transportation was paralyzed, yet people remained calm and formed neat lines at stores to buy food, water, and necessities. Similarly, no word of looting or violence arose in the north even after tens of thousands of people were left with no water and electricity.

Twitter exploded with helpful Tweets regarding how to confront the aftereffects of a megathrust and encouraging tales of individual actions throughout Japan. A page consolidating various tweets filled with hope was created, and gradually the outside world came to understand the endurance and perseverance of a people who tended to obey the law and maintain social order no matter the cost. One tweet describes how two flashy girls took dozens of candy from Tokyo Disneyland and handed them to children at an evacuation center. Another describes homeless individuals giving people cardboard to stay warm with as some spent a cold night on the train platform in Japan.

Over the past few days I’ve come to realize that, despite my conviction that anime has just as much power as film, television, music, and books to impact the world, these things never come close to what actually happens. Images of entire villages washed away by the flood continue to be broadcast, and yet amidst all of the horrors, sparkling diamonds of hope remain. It’s not the world of Kanojo wo Mamoru 51 no Houhou.

At the moment, several of the students I live here with at my university dorm near Tokyo have been trying to conserve energy by keeping lights low and wrapping ourselves in blankets instead of using the heater. By using less electricity, the demand for power in the most devastated areas can be fulfilled. People all over the country are doing what little they can to provide relief.

When I recall the ending of Tokyo Magnitude 8.0, when Mirai realizes just how brave her little brother Yuuki had been, smiling and bearing the hardships of a disaster, it makes me think of just how strong people have to be to survive the current tragedy happening here in Japan. Despite all the fear and anxiety, by discovering some of the happiness and warmth still remaining in their devastated world, I truly wish that the victims of this disaster can find the strength to go on.

In one tweet, someone described a situation in which an old man at an evacuation center in Chiba wondered “What will happen from now on?” He was answered by a boy—about high school age—who said, “It’ll be okay. When we become adults, we’ll get things back to the way they were.” The person who wrote the tweet continued: “It’ll be okay. There’s still a future.” Mirai. The Japanese word for future. It’s also the name of Tokyo Magnitude 8.0’s main character. Looking back, Tokyo Magnitude 8.0 was right in conveying a message of helping one another, of standing strong in the face of danger, of looking for the tiniest bit of happiness when all seemed lost. Of hope.

Do your best, Japan.

Notes

Thanks to 21stcenturydigitalboy for beginning the “Diary of an Anime Lived” project, which now spans a series of articles by multiple authors across several blogs. A complete diary and more information can be found on his website.

Kaeru Nikki is a Japanese blog I found on google. Original at: http://d.hatena.ne.jp/kaeru_geko/20070220/1171934648

I’m always up for discussing anime, manga, and just about everything. Feel free to follow me on Twitter.