* The following is an excellent editorial piece on a volunteering experience with the It's Not Just Mud group, written by Brent Danley Jones, posted with permission.
THE PROGRAM:
It's Not Just Mud (INJM) is an NPO started by an
Englishman-turned-teacher-turned volunteer leader who upon seeing the
extent of the damage to the coastal city of Ishinomaki decided to start
an organization to support a grass-roots rehabilitation effort in the
community. Although only recently developed, the power of social media
and the positive reputation of the program created a steady flow of
volunteers. Focusing primarily on rebuilding, there is also a strong
community aspect and the very presence of the volunteers can help give
hope. INJM is not alone in the effort as other volunteer organizations
in the area overlap and work together. The people of Ishinomaki, even
nine months after the initial disaster, are still living in the second
floor of destroyed houses or have not yet moved out of temporary
housing, struggling with unemployment and supply shortages, while
picking through the rubble to recover what they can from lost lives.
There is a sadness that has settled about the area that shows signs of
lifting as citizens of the city begin to reassemble, and the presence of
volunteers and their efforts help warm against the winter cold. More
than saying "Ganbarou Tohoku" (do your best banners displayed to support
the most affected region) there are people here, taking no pay, willing
to do whatever task, big or small, that will help return a sense of
normalcy to an area that is still correctly categorized as a disaster
zone. In addition to contributing their hours of work, volunteers in
INJM give a bit of strength and spirit, as if to say "You are not alone"
through their actions. Between the contributions both tangible and
invisible, INJM is supporting those who wish to do their part for the
affected people of Japan.
THE CITY:
Ishinomaki is a coastal area big enough to get its own stop on the bus
line from Shinjyuku to Sendai. Even 9 months after the highly
destructive combination of earthquake and tsunami, the damage remains
evident. With limited funds and resources, the slowly progressing
process of cleaning up and rebuilding is still the daily task for a
majority of its people. Before, in the area based near the volunteer
organization, there were about 1000 families living in an area of the
city where there are now less than 200 remaining. Some parts of the city
have been rebuilt, some businesses have reopened, and vending machines
again line the streets, however there is an eerie feeling when driving
along the main city strip and seeing brand new buildings neighboring a
shop front that is still bashed in, furniture and debris scattered and
left as it was months before. There is a large ship still breached out
of the port and a gigantic red oil tower barrel in the divider section
of a main highway. Garbage dumps have stacked hundreds of cars in
alien-like pyramids. Barren landscapes near the coasts are like house
graveyards, where only foundations and wreckage are left with a few
shaky but still standing structures in the distance. There is not a
suburban location in the whole city where you can turn 360 degrees and
not see some sign of the catastrophe that took place. The damage to the
city you can't see is left in the hearts of its people, many of whom are
still living in the shadows of their formers lives. The job of
volunteers is to do what they can to repair both. As time passes,
glimmers of hope can be seen as well: new shipments of supplies being
given away on the streets, small memorial shrines along roads, families
restanding their family's grave stones, stores reopening, students
biking on their way to refurbished schools--there is a resilience here
that acknowledges the horrendous past, but continues to push forward
into a better
tomorrow.
THE DESTRUCTION:
THE WORK:
Everything from breaking down and entire first floor's drywall to
helping a community tent lead a soup kitchen and bingo day for elderly
residents, from cleaning photos of sports days twenty years ago to
helping replenish the dwindled supply of shellfish, the work is varied
and volunteers go wherever they're needed. No labor skills are required
to join, so those who volunteer with INJM take the jobs that simply need
to be done. Sometimes volunteers may work with other organizations, be
they other foreign aid organizations or local community efforts, going
wherever they're told, to do what they are requested to do, as best they
can so someone else with plenty to deal with doesn't have to. Because
everyone is making this effort, it adds up little by little into
progress. It can be surprisingly fulfilling to do what would even seem
like repetitive work, such as taking nails out of rotted boards barely
holding together a house for six hours, but because you've done it
someone else doesn't have to, and they will move to work onto the next
stage in the larger plan to fix a house in the grand scheme project of
rebuilding a city. Every strike with a sledgehammer or conversation
listening to the story of loss puts repair and healing another step
further. The work can be hard, but it not usually to the point of
exhaustion, and always in the company of other like-minded volunteers
whose positive optimism helps ward off some of the residual darkness
that still envelops many corners of the city.
THE WEATHER: S'cold.
THE HOUSE:
Through the power of social networking, when originally setting up INJM
they were looking for a home base to live, and through extensive
tweeting and retweeting found someone willing to leave a house standing
that was planned for demolition. It was fixed up along with a
neighboring home and both now serve as the main base of operations. Over
30 volunteers can fit in and hopefully no one snores. Meals are done
banquet style and everyone is in charge of keeping the place clean and
functional. The main room is the "lounge" where most spend their time
when not out working. It feels like a commune of sorts, and when you get
the right sort of people together (and from my albeit limited
experiences they were always the right sort) you're going to want to put
down your book or laptop and be a part of the house, and you'll most
likely not want to leave.
THE ROUTINE:
The basic procedure goes like this: wake up --> toast --> work
--> get home --> chill --> onsen --> party --> sleep.
Volunteers come up for days, sometimes weeks at a time, with others who
came and never left. Volunteers, it seems, never really say
goodbye--they most always come back. This, I would say, is due to a
casual genius of the work and structure of the program. Unlike some
other larger-scale efforts which develop many rules and procedures for
those who come, INJM has a basic routine of working and living that gets
the basics in order so that necessary things get done while leaving the
rest of the time fairly free. Volunteers choose assignment crews to
join and work from about 9am-4pm. After completing the jobs, everyone
eats, sleeps, and lives together in two houses. No mandatory tasks
outside of work are administered to volunteers, but when you see people
preparing for dinner or cleaning up afterwards, you feel compelled to
assist as well, and so everyone does so without being designated to
tasks. It's quite amazing how fast new arrivals, myself included,
quickly fall in line with this system of administration-free
responsibility and seem to adjust to life in the house. The rest of the
available time outside of work and chores is free to be used at the
discretion of volunteers, which usually takes the form of gathering in
the main (heated) room where everyone comes to talk and spend time with
the others there from all over Japan and the world. The feeling of
working with these people, all good people, and then spending the nights
together in revelry is a great source of motivation; the relaxed
atmosphere of the base camp allows the volunteers to unwind while
becoming better friends, making everyone look forward to spending the
next day of work together. Also, after most everyday of work, there is
an onsen trip to relax and recuperate after a day's work and get
everyone clean at once instead of having up to 30 people lined up for
the shower. This is also a… powerful bonding experience, in that you
will most likely be sitting naked in a jacuzzi with friends made that
same day. Lights out by midnight to be up at 8am for a toast buffet.
THE PEOPLE:
The work is the goal, and the people are the energy; volunteering is a
mix of both. The people I met while volunteering were an outstanding
group of positive, humorous, quirky-to-eccentric folks from all around
the world. An Australian oil rig towboat deckhand, a British fashion
designer, a kindergarden bus driver from Brussels, a New Yorker with a
passion for roller disco working at a cosmetics production factory in
Tokyo, a radio engineer from Oklahoma who came just to volunteer,
Japanese company employees who take their vacation just to help
Ishinomaki, English teachers from around Japan using their breaks for a
purpose, a group of Japanese college students, a group of study abroad
college students, and a deaf Japanese girl who taught everyone Japanese
sign language during her visit that people were still using even after
she left. So many people from so many backgrounds, here in Japan for so
many reasons, but all of them brought here for the sole purpose of doing
something for nothing, volunteering to give something back. This
spinning world is powered by such acts of kindness. There wasn't a bad
apple in the bunch, even if some are quieter than others everyone will
find something to laugh about, something to add to the group, and
everyone works to validate their being there. What really surprised me
was just how fast you could feel like real friends living with these
people; I think I may have come at a particularly good time when a lot
of great folks happened to show up all at once, but could scarcely
believe how quickly not just a few people warmed up to one another, but
how everyone came together as a group, and I'm not the only one who
didn't want to leave partly because of that. Doing good work with good
people sounds a lot better than warming my desk at the office.
THE PARTY:
Upon arriving back home after the nightly onsen trip, preparations are
made for dinner, and it's a makeshift banquet hall where everyone eats
together. Now properly bathed and fed, the party takes the night. As
many know, when I say party, I rarely mean dancing, flashing lights, and
bad club music. A party is anywhere that good people are laughing and
drinking long into the night, and the parties here are every night to
bond and blow off steam and rejuvenate the soul for the next day's work.
Don't get me wrong, the purpose of all volunteers being here is to help
the people of Ishinomaki as best we can, and that goal of making an
outstanding contribution to the community is never surpassed by anything
else. With that work completed, however, the night is your own, and
spending time with these amazing members and happily chatting and
laughing for hours seems to be the best way to spend time before bed. A
few chu-hi Strongs from the local convenience store and laughter amongst
friends is the best thing to get you into a deep sleep and avoid the
chilling cold that takes the house as soon as the lively conversation
comes to a close (and the heating stoves are turned off). Some of the
dumbest moments led to some of the biggest laughs, such as the story of
Oklahoma's hometown single stop sign parade, or certain complications
involving a virgin marriage and birthday candles, and the true nature of
dance parties. The Party is where you make new friends of complete
strangers and I made a baker's dozen in only five short days.
THE RESULTS:
A feeling of accomplishment. The positive vibe from helping people
through hardship. Many new friends. Knowing you've made a difference.
Having finally been able to aid in an effort I felt compelled to assist
in ever since March 11th, 2011, albeit if only in a small way for a
short time. Smiles from those around you and the validation of doing a
little bit to help the country you live in. Actually going to Tohoku and
doing your best after reading hundreds of signs saying "Tohoku, do your
best!" I was originally planning on staying 3 days, maybe four, but
ended up pushing all the way into the 5th, barely catching the last
train home from Tokyo so that I could be up at 7am for work the next
day. Others felt the same, wishing they could have stayed longer, and
entire groups revised schedules to be able to continue volunteering.
Throughout my life I don't have a history of giving back. I enjoyed it
when I did, but didn't seek out the opportunities often. Something about
the work, organization, situation, and people of It's Not Just Mud
really came together to instill a sense of having done something good
that I hadn't felt in too long a time. I'm already planning my trip back
when I'm back on break, and thinking about who I'm going to take with
me. Volunteering in a disaster zone gave me a new look at myself, to see
the things I was worrying about as insignificant, and allowed me a
better look at the bigger picture. This world and the people in it
thrive off kindness. Even when politics and big corporations, mother
nature, and jerks-in-general seem to be making a bigger change than good
actions, it is all I can do to participate in a program like this so at
least I'm doing something positive to help those around me, hoping
those good energies are received and duplicated. It's motivating, and I
plan on taking this as a fresh start to a new year. And I'll be back for
more. Maybe you can be too.
Please visit the blog of writer Brent Danley Jones to follow up on his further adventures and writing. His Profile states that Brent is a "Writer writing from somewhere in Japan. Expect to see novel
serialization, flurries of haiku, the occasional drinking song, and more
metaphors than you can shake a stick at."