Silence

"Silence. That's what I'll remember: The blinds stopped shaking and banging into the windows of my classroom. The TVs hanging from the ceiling over my head stopped 'dancing'. The 65 kids in the choir all held their breath in the seconds following the horrible shaking. No voice (I was wearing a body mic because I had severe laryngitis).

Silence. A school is never silent.

Once we were outside on the field: No trains. Those trains we see multiple times an hour running right beside our campus...they run so often we aren't aware of them...until they stop.

Silence. Nothing spells disruption or disaster in Tokyo like 'no trains'."

Today is the third anniversary of the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. Starting midday on March 10, my Facebook newsfeed began to fill with remembrances of March 11, 2011; requests for prayer, for continuing help and hope; reminders that while the world has moved on to the next tragedy, the next war, the next news story, some of us have not. Some of us will never forget, just as some will never forget Aceh or Newtown or Syria or Ukraine or Venezuela or Katrina or 9/11 or the too many other places and tragedies and wars to even mention. One person can not remember them all but each of us makes a connection to something and we remember it and that is important.

One way I choose to remember is to make sure I am prepared (as well as can be) for disaster. In Japan, September 1 is National Disaster Prevention Day (the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 happened on September 1; schools observe a moment of silence and nationwide earthquake drills are held). For me, my Disaster Prevention Day is March 11. I use the day to go through my emergency kit and replace any food that needs replacing. Last year, I finally bought a hand-crank radio. I've got a first aid kit, a backpack with food and clothes that I can grab at a moment's notice. I've got dog food and people food, an emergency blanket and a can opener (really important). I still have things I need to put together, like an emergency kit for work. Some people tease me for my "paranoia" but I would rather be prepared than have to walk home six miles in heels. I'd rather be prepared than wonder, how do I get to my family, where do we meet up. Shortly after the Tohoku earthquake, I remember reading some (ignorant) comment about "why bother being prepared? Japan was prepared and it wasn't enough." Japan's preparation might not have been enough to prevent everything but as bad as it was, think of how much worse it could have been. You only have to look at the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami where there were no plans in place and hundreds of thousands of lives were lost.  Almost 20,000 lives were lost in Japan but how many lives were saved because there were plans in place, plans that people knew and followed.

Koji Sasahara - AP

The quote at the start of this post is from my mother, her memory of the moments right after the ground stopped shaking long enough to evacuate the building. And it is true, nothing spells disruption in Tokyo like no trains. One of the specific images from three years ago that continues to stick with me (besides the countless photos of terrible devastation and loss) is of office workers in Tokyo walking home on the tracks of an elevated train. That is the only way they know to get home and with the power out, for once, there was no danger of being hit by a train. And when your world has been shaken beyond recognition, you just want to go home. It's an image akin to that of the workforce of New York, walking across the bridges after the attacks on the Twin Towers. They just want to get home.

And, as I look at before and the most recent after photos of the Tohoku region, I can see rebuilding happening but not a lot of home building. There is still so much to be done in Tohoku and they are starting to see unexpected effects. Children in areas surrounding Fukushima don't know what it is like to play outside and it's starting to affect their health and development. Hundreds of thousands in Tohoku are displaced and still living in temporary housing (houses that, size-wise, make FEMA trailers look palatial). So, please, continue to pray for Japan, for the rebuilding, for people to be able to go home.

Don't let the memory fade away into silence.