Writing Fukushima #5 Onahama Harbor, Iwaki City: Hopes for Recovery
Onahama Harbor —
a carp streamer, tail leaping
in the wind
(onahama no kaze ni o wo hane koi-nobori)
※koi-nobori (carp streamer): A summer season word. In an old custom which can still be seen in some parts of Japan today, people hang windsocks made of paper or fabric and decorated with pictures of carp on the edge of their veranda on May 5. This is a way of wishing for the health and success of boy children.
As I stand at Onahama Harbor looking far out to sea, two poems I wrote once come back to mind. One is the school song I wrote ten years ago for Iwaki Shuei High School, with music by Kobayashi Ken'ichiro, who comes from Iwaki City. In it I compared the young people to the winds that begin their travels from Onahama and journey to the far off oceans. It was a way of expressing my hope that the young people too would spread their wings and accomplish great things.
Eight years later, at the time of the Great East Japan Earthquake, I again wrote about this area. The poem sequence "And then, Spring: From Fukushima to the World," with music by Akira Senju, has the lines "Lonely once, I made my way to the sea and the sound of the waves embraced me. At Onahama and Oragahama, shining stars blanket the sky." The people who live here all agree on the beauty of the star-filled winter sky that shines on their beaches.
A few days ago the first bonito of the season was brought in at Onahama Harbor. Several aquariums and sea parks such as Aquamarine Fukushima and Iwaki Lala Mew* have also reopened already and are crowded with people. However, the fish market is not selling any fish caught in Fukushima. "There isn't anything at all, the fish just aren't there...," laments a female fish-seller. They say that except for the deep-sea fisheries, Fukushima's fishing industry is keeping a low profile. Even if there were fish to catch, the damage caused by rumor would make it almost impossible to sell anything at any price. I am again reminded of Fukushima's reality now.
As the car takes us a little inland, the newly-planted rice paddies spread out before us. The rice grown with such care and devotion is another victim of damaging rumors. The fields and hills that were beginning to change color when I visited a month ago have now all turned deep green. I am always overwhelmed by the life force of nature here in the deep north.
About 45 minutes from Onahama Harbor we arrived at our destination, the Shoko Kanazawa Museum.* Shoko Kanazawa, a young woman with a disability, studied very hard with her mother, who is a calligrapher, and has achieved renown as a young calligrapher of rare talent. A museum dedicated to her work opened last year in the town of Tono in Iwaki City.
Let me quote the words of Shoko's mother Yasuko, who is also the museum's director: "Amidst the rubble that spread out desolately from the disaster, Shoko shook and wept. Then she noticed a small red flower blooming and whispered 'The light of hope!'. . . . She cannot do anything now but she is staying close to the victims of the disaster. In that spirit, she did a calligraphic rendering of the phrase 'To live together' (tomo ni ikiru). And wanting to convey the sense that there is a light of hope, she also created a calligraphic rendering of the phrase 'Light of hope' (kibō-kō). From now on Shoko's works, which she creates with the full force of her mind and body, will be collected in this museum."
At the entrance to the museum, we were greeted by the characters for "phoenix" (fushichō) written very large. And it was not only the phoenix that was waiting for us. Several students from Iwaki Shuei High School had come to meet us with bouquets of flowers. So many things have been lost in the earthquake and tsunami, but the ties that bind people are still strong.
"Ah, the wind's direction has changed." At the words of my companion, I saw that the carp streamer for Boy's Day, by the old lunar calendar, was all puffed out and had begun to swim merrily in the wind blowing in off the harbor.
* Aquamarine Fukushima and Iwaki Lala Mew
Onohama Harbor is the largest harbor in Fukushima Prefecture and its wharf, which was redeveloped as a green space for water-lovers, is dominated by Aquamarine Fukushima and the Iwaki Tourism Products Center known as Iwaki Lala Mew. Both were heavily damaged in the Great East Japan Earthquake but Aquamarine reopened four months after the disasters and Lala Mew reopened eight months after, thus helping the recovery of Iwaki.
* Shoko Kanazawa Museum
After the earthquake, in the hope of promoting the recovery of eastern Japan, the Shoko Kanazawa Museum was established on the premises owned by a traditional kimono shop.
Haiku and text: Madoka Mayuzumi
Translation: Janine Beichman
Photo credit: Fukushima-Minpo Co., Ltd.
First publication: 11 June 2013, Fukushima-Minpo Newspaper
Photo caption: Onahama Harbor
