Dear all,
I haven't really had time to settle down and reflect about what happened,
but the aftershocks have receded for a while, so things are a bit more
quiet. Because of the pending possible reactor meltdown(s) in Fukushima, an
emergency power saving program may be enacted nationwide, so I'm not sure
how long we will have power and Internet access here. So I'm giving you an
update while the infrastructure still works.

The good news: I'm fine and I currently have access to food, water, and
electricity. Everyone I know is more or less in the same situation (except
for electricity, perhaps).

In short, don't expect any responses or contributions to projects in the
next two weeks, because things are still far from normal. Public services
have mostly resumed in Tokyo, but if the reactor(s) melt down or explode
again, this could trigger a new wave of problems.

For mailing list readers: the rest will be off-topic but I hope the
exceptional circumstances mitigate this list abuse.

Our company has recently moved our offices to the headquarter campus in
Tsukuba, over one hour (by train) from Tokyo. I was lucky to have attended a
presentation in central Tokyo yesterday, because Tsukuba has been hit harder
by the earthquake, and probably still has not completely received power back
yet. Also, last time I checked, Tsukuba was still cut off from the train
grid.

While my schedule fortunately had me be in Tokyo yesterday, I was less lucky
that the presentation was on the 20th floor. In Tokyo, I have experienced
earthquakes in tall buildings before, but never something as extreme as this
one. On the Japanese earthquake scale, which measures destruction, Tokyo got
the forth-highest rating. This means items that are not secured will fall
down. Luckily, it is illegal in office buildings to have any furniture that
is not securely bolted to the wall or ceiling. So nobody was injured. (The
areas hit worst by the earthquake got the highest rating, which means that
even strong buildings may collapse.) If the epicenter had been close to
Tokyo, 30 million lives could have been wiped out. So in that sense, we were
lucky.

The presentation was stopped after we noticed the extent of the earthquake,
and how much the building was shaking. We had to brace ourselves against the
wall as we were leaving the presentation room, because all buildings were
swaying like a cruise ship in a storm. While we knew that Japan's building
codes are very strict, nobody knew if the buildings could withstand what was
to come. All you can do about earthquakes is prevention, so once the quake
starts, you are completely helpless. I would rather have been in the first
or second floor of a building in the countryside, because you would have had
time to run outside. On the 20th floor, you are helplessly trapped and just
have to wait and see. In this case, the first temblor lasted for a full
seven minutes, which is seven minutes with the heart rate near the maximum,
never knowing if the ceiling would fall down on you next. (I have to say
that weaker earthquakes I have experienced so far have never made me nervous
in the slightest, and all of my colleagues had the same experience.)

Not yet knowing what was to come, we tried to get back to normal and resume
the meeting, but frequent and violent aftershocks forced us to cancel it. I
had another appointment after that meeting, and at that point, I still
thought that I could maybe make it to the other place somehow (by train and
taxi). I knew that the subways would be suspended for quite some time, so I
walked 1 - 2 km to the nearest train station. As I had to see, many people
were already flocking to the train station, only to see that all trains were
suspended. I could not make any phone calls because the phone network was
out of order. At least I was outside, the aftershocks, which kept coming
every 5 - 10 minutes at high intensity, were not so easily felt there.

I spent the next few hours in various public spaces, together with thousands
of other people, trying to get Internet access with my phone. Internet
access, amazingly, still worked, although only slowly and intermittently.
Time passed, and eventually it was time for dinner; because of the
presentation earlier, we had made plans for dinner near where I was waiting.
At that time, the earthquake had already been upgraded to 8.8 or 8.9. (This
is probably the only kind of upgrade Japan still gets, with its credit
rating being downgraded more often than not.) However, some of the people
who I could still reach agreed that while a big dinner was out of the
question, we should try to find some food. This was actually easier said
than done.

At that point (6:30 PM), most of the convenience stores, and restaurants
near the train station, had already closed down. Without any resupplies,
they had sold out their entire inventory within one or two hours. Luckily, I
knew a noodle (ramen) shop nearby that still served food. We were doubly
lucky because just ten minutes after us, a long line started to form at that
restaurant. So we had just come in time to get some energy before starting
our long walk home.

As it turned out, no public transportation service would still work for many
hours, with all lines (trains + subway) but two being suspended until this
morning or afternoon. So people come to the inevitable conclusion that a
long walk would be the only option to get home that day.

Tokyo probably has the best public transportation system in the world, and
about 70 % of the commuters in the wider urban area use it to get to work
and back. The Kanto area has 30 million inhabitants, and the busiest train
line itself carries as many passengers as the entire New York subway system
combined. The largest stations are frequented by about equally many people
daily, 3 - 4 million. So it is very hard to imagine the scale of the chaos
that ensued.

Near the bigger stations with wide pedestrian zones, it felt a bit like
attending a street festival, minus the festive atmosphere. All sidewalks
were full with people, but it was not yet too crowded. I only realized how
many people had to walk home after leaving the inner area of Tokyo, where
the sidewalks became smaller and people were funneled into those sidewalks
along large main streets. Nobody typically walks for several hours as a
commute, so the large streets and highways were our navigation aids to get
home. At the large stations, we could ask police for directions, but these
would be the only directions we would get. Actually, police were doing
nothing but giving directions to people, one after another. And while many
public maps are displayed along sidewalks, their scale is too small for a
walk that covers 10 - 20 km, or even 40 km, depending on how far people work
from home.

Pedestrians walked along streets filled with bicycles, motorcycles, and
cars. The usual hierarchy among different ways of transportation was turned
upside down: Cars were by far the slowest way to get anywhere, as they were
frequently stuck in one place for several minutes at a time. Bicycles and
motorcycles could maneuver between rows of traffic jam and were probably the
best way to get home. Most people, like I, had none available, so we had to
walk for a few hours to get back home.

>From Tsukuba, the distance would have been prohibitive (a full day's march),
so I was lucky to have been able to get home at all. On the way home,
half-empty convenience stores, shuttered non-food shops, and busy
restaurants made up the scenery between empty office buildings. Near about
10 PM, I was finally home.

Luckily, family, friends, and loved ones are, as far as I can tell, all
fine. It took over 8 hours for me to be able to make my first phone call, so
it is not easy to confirm everyone's whereabouts. From what I can tell,
though, within Tokyo, no major damage was sustained. This leads me to assume
that everyone is alright.

Still, the night was a short and restless one. Every few minutes, a minor
vibration would shake the apartment, and earthquake/tsunami warnings for
just half a day would quickly fill the entire page (containing 100
warnings). However, eventually the tiredness of having spend many hours in
the cold night let me sleep.

This morning, I tried to buy food in the nearest shop, which was the only
one in the neighborhood that was actually open today. Unfortunately, I
mistook the opening time by half an hour, and arrived 25 minutes after the
shop opened. Except for the last half-loaf, all bread was already sold out,
and several types of other foods were also getting scarce. Still, we are now
covered for the weekend, in case another large aftershock should hit (I hope
it won't).

After that, it looked like life would, at least in Tokyo, slowly return to
normal. After a bit more than 24 hours, the traffic jams on the highways
leading out of Tokyo were finally dissolving, and there was hope that the
supply chains of grocery stores can be re-established by tomorrow.

However, not all is well; the destruction in the prefectures that were hit
by the tsunami is hard to imagine, and everyone is still worried about the
pending possible reactor meltdown(s) in Fukushima. (You know that sh*t hit
the fan if you have to think about pending meltdowns in plural.) This may
again trigger another wave of emergency measures. What makes things even
worse is that we have the most severe winter in many years in Japan, due to
a peak in the El Nino Southern Oscillation (ENSO, see wikipedia). An icy
wind has been blowing over northern Japan all winter. This, together with
the relatively high humidity, makes the night temperatures outside Tokyo,
usually slightly below freezing, feel like -10 to -15 degrees Celsius. I'm
very happy not to be outside now.

Watching the news, we still can't comprehend what happened at the east coast
of Japan, and we have to wait and hope for the best. If nothing bad happens
anymore, then you can reach me by e-mail (but probably not on my phone, not
for a while). On the bright side, it is now unlikely that any major
earthquake will hit Japan again in the coming years, so it's probably a good
vacation destination for the future...

Regards,
Cyrille Artho

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