Big changes and small changes
In this episode, we explore why small changes are so important, even when we need a much larger change.
A mid-sized town called Onagawa, a fishing port on the east coast of Japan. Home for more than ten thousand people, with schools, shops, factories, a good sized hospital, its own railway line, and plenty more.
It’s late winter in 2011. 11th March, to be precise. Just after three o’clock in the afternoon
Still bitterly cold at this time of year. Oh, and it’s snowing, too.
Everyone’s just been a bit shaken up, less than half an hour ago - though not because of the weather.
And then, with only a frantic few moments of warning, this happens:
But it’s not a train-crash.
And that’s not a rail-car lying on its side, either:
No: it’s a full-sized three-storey building, sprawled amidst a sea of rubble.
And it’s not just here - the same has happened everywhere across the entire town, as far as the eye can see:
Not just this town, either - it’s everywhere along the coastline, for at least a hundred miles either side of Onagawa, and up to several miles inland, too:
So what happened?
Tsunami.
Not that unusual on this coast, of course: in fact Onagawa itself had been hit by another one just the previous year.
So every town along that coast had some sort of sea-defences, not just against tsunamis, but also against the storm-surges that arise each year during the typhoon-season. The towns had typically set their sea-walls at five metres high, which was considered more than enough for any threat that might come their way. The small town of Tarou had built its sea-defences all the way up to a full ten metres high, though most people, even in the town itself, regarded this as somewhat absurd, bordering on paranoia.
But, no, this tsunami was different. This one was huge.
Five metres? - this tsunami barely even noticed seawalls that size. In town after town, it went straight over the top. The Tarou township did survive, though even their defences were pushed to the limit. And many towns fared worse. A lot worse.
A tsunami isn’t like an ordinary wave, a quick rush of water, and then gone. No: it arrives as a huge, unrelenting rise in the entire sea-level, smashing everything in its path, often reaching its new height in a terrifyingly-small handful of minutes. And staying up there for maybe half an hour or more, before then tearing its way back out to sea again. Until the next wave comes; and the next wave; and the next…
In 2011, that first wave was bad; the second wave even worse. Just how bad it was for each town depended a lot on the vagaries of geography. Some were lucky; too many were not. At Onagawa, it went higher than most, up to almost eighteen metres, or well over fifty feet. (At 3mins55 on this video, that high-water mark is visible on one of the few surviving dockside buildings, as the flood drains away.)
At Omoe, a small town further along the coast, it reached a staggering forty metres, more than a hundred and twenty feet. To give some sense of what a forty-metre tsunami looks like, imagine a typical two-storey house. Put another same-sized house on top of its roof. Then yet another on top of that. For good measure, add another one as well. Now imagine that all of that has gone underwater: all of it. And that all of it went underwater in little more than a couple of minutes, shredding everything to matchwood and worse as it did so. Then the wave dragging the wreckage and remnants back out to sea. Over and over again, for hours.
At Onagawa, it wasn’t quite that bad. Not quite. But there wasn’t much left of the town after the waters had drained away. And more than eight hundred residents and others had lost their lives.
Definitely a big change.
Recovery, for the town, and for the townspeople who survived, well, that was definitely a big change too - and still is an ongoing big change, for that matter.
Yet that big change of recovery was and and is made up of vast numbers of small changes.
Search the wreckage straight away for survivors, and for those who didn’t - small changes to do whatever can be done for people.
Clear the roads.
Set up food, shelter, safe spaces.
Maintain those spaces, day by day, day after day, for as long those needs exist.
Pick up the pieces, literally and metaphorically. Rescue whatever can be rescued, that’s still worth rescuing.
Clear the rubble and the larger wreckage.
Repair buildings that can be repaired.
Rebuild schools, and the regular pattern of schooling, too.
Rebuild hope.
Pray for the dead, to ease the hearts and minds and souls of the living.
Rebuild lives and livelihoods.
Plan for the new.
Rebuild anew.
Small changes, moment by moment, hour by hour, day by day, month by month, year by year.
And big change, made up of almost-innumerable small changes.
If we pay attention to each of those small changes, the big change that we need will take care of itself.
For further information, the following are some of the YouTube videos about Onagawa, during and after the 2011 tsunami.
Tsunami at Onagawa:
Tsunami damage at Onagawa:
March 19, 2011: A train lying on its side, aerial view of Onagawa Town, Miyagi Prefecture
Tsunami damage: Onagawa Town, Miyagi Prefecture, over 20m above sea level - shows the same train as in the previous video
FN311: Onagawa Town, which was severely damaged [3rd day of the earthquake] - three days later [turn on subtitles in the playback-controls at lower-right of the video]
Tsunami Survey in Japan (Onagawa) after the 11 March 2011 Tsunami - two weeks later
Japan Tsunami Aftermath Worst Hit Areas, Onagawa and Shizugawa - one month later
Sequence of small changes in recovery at Onagawa, spread out over various periods of time:
The Changing Face of Onagawa (March 11, 2011 - March 11, 2013)
Onagawa-cho Hospital 2012/3/11 PM2:46 - prayer and ceremony for the dead, exactly one year later
Great East Japan Earthquake Series 35 Reconstruction of Town with a View of the Sea - Miyagi / Onagawa Town - 2011 to 2016 [no subtitles]
REC 311 Onagawa Town - Fixed point shooting - 2011 to 2021