Japanese attitude

[Salwani Ali]

 

Satu lagi cerita :

 

EDITOR'S note:

 THIS letter, written by Vietnamese immigrant Ha Minh Thanh working in Fukushima as
 a policeman to a friend in Vietnam, was posted on New America Media on March 19. It
 is a testimonial to the strength of the Japanese spirit, and an interesting slice
 of life near the epicenter of Japan's crisis at the Fukushima nuclear power plant.
 It was translated by NAM editor Andrew Lam, author of "East Eats West: Writing in
 Two Hemispheres." Shanghai Daily condensed it.

 Brother,

 How are you and your family? These last few days, everything was in chaos. When I
 close my eyes, I see dead bodies. When I open my eyes, I also see dead bodies.

 Each one of us must work 20 hours a day, yet I wish there were 48 hours in the day,
 so that we could continue helping and rescuing folks.

 We are without water and electricity, and food rations are near zero. We barely
 manage to move refugees before there are new orders to move them elsewhere.

 I am currently in Fukushima, about 25 kilometers away from the nuclear power plant.
 I have so much to tell you that if I could write it all down, it would surely turn
 into a novel about human relationships and behaviors during times of crisis.

 People here remain calm - their sense of dignity and proper behavior are very good
 - so things aren't as bad as they could be. But given another week, I can't
 guarantee that things won't get to a point where we can no longer provide proper
 protection and order.

 They are humans after all, and when hunger and thirst override dignity, well, they
 will do whatever they have to do. The government is trying to provide supplies by
 air, bringing in food and medicine, but it's like dropping a little salt into the
 ocean.

 Brother, there was a really moving incident. It involves a little Japanese boy who
 taught an adult like me a lesson on how to behave like a human being.

 Last night, I was sent to a little grammar school to help a charity organization
 distribute food to the refugees. It was a long line that snaked this way and that
 and I saw a little boy around 9 years old. He was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of
 shorts.

 It was getting very cold and the boy was at the very end of the line. I was worried
 that by the time his turn came there wouldn't be any food left. So I spoke to him.
 He said he was at school when the earthquake happened. His father worked nearby and
 was driving to the school. The boy was on the third floor balcony when he saw the
 tsunami sweep his father's car away.

 I asked him about his mother. He said his house is right by the beach and that his
 mother and little sister probably didn't make it. He turned his head and wiped his
 tears when I asked about his relatives.

 The boy was shivering so I took off my police jacket and put it on him. That's when
 my bag of food ration fell out. I picked it up and gave it to him. "When it comes
 to your turn, they might run out of food. So here's my portion. I already ate. Why
 don't you eat it?"

 The boy took my food and bowed. I thought he would eat it right away, but he
 didn't. He took the bag of food, went up to where the line ended and put it where
 all the food was waiting to be distributed.

 I was shocked. I asked him why he didn't eat it and instead added it to the food
 pile. He answered: "Because I see a lot more people hungrier than I am. If I put it
 there, then they will distribute the food equally."

 When I heard that I turned away so that people wouldn't see me cry.

 A society that can produce a 9-year-old who understands the concept of sacrifice
 for the greater good must be a great society, a great people.

 Well, a few lines to send you and your family my warm wishes. The hours of my shift
 have begun again.

 Ha Minh Thanh