The times you feel like cooking seems to always be the times you can't. There's been a need for energy conservation here so of course, no oven or stove top; they drain the most. Now I have a constant urge to make pizza, Wookie cookies, Hollandaise sauce, and plenty of other things I can't do. Really puts a damper on things. Things since the earthquake has been going smooth; except for an occasional tremor, seems we've gone a whole day without one though which is a great accomplishment I think. Still; every creak I hear from the ceilings I still freak out and glance around the room to see if anything that's dangling is shaking.
Some people may be evacuating, there's only a voluntary leave for people. I won't be, I love this place too much to leave it and I think we'll last; we always have after all. Our community is based on everyone, even my mom reaches a hand to deployed spouses when she isn't even a key spouse anymore. Now that's commitment to a job you don't get credit for anymore.
The earthquakes are starting to blend into one another; every time there's a shake we get a reading of about 6 or so and have to stare in awe for a moment and realizing we've become immune to earthquakes now. Ever since Friday all the later ones just seem like a butter knife to a cleaver. Perhaps that isn't the best metaphor but it is the Diary of a Cook. School will be up and running on Monday though, I don't want to complain, but I am not looking forward to it. Now that the cold I inherited had finally started to fade I was looking forward to heading to the chow hall to help out the people there. Since the quake they began serving food to the residents on the base; which is helpful when there's so many people who don't have the advantage of 20 tons of camping gear.
Despite the time during the blackout, I swear my mother made the best food in a cast-iron skillet on the grill outside. I wouldn't mind flipping the circuit breaker just to have her cook some more food like that. Another good part is sitting around eating MREs but my parents think I'm crazy. What can I say? It's a meal ready in just a few minutes. Yes it isn't the best food in the world but when you're hungry you're hungry, and the cute little Tabasco bottle with it is to die for.
Day 4 can't compare to the previous day. I get constant comments from my mother about how wonderful it was and how they've spread it out. I'll tell you ahead of time, that can only happen late at night from sleep deprivation, I wouldn't suggest trying it yourself though. Other then this I have something else going that I started a long time ago on Facebook. I titled it Diary of a Believer. No, it's not like this diary where I tell my day to day things. Well not exactly day to day things, but you get the point. I named it that because it's a book based on the most important events in a person, the Believer's, life. It goes from birth, all the way to well, death. The name Believer I thought of because of the end chapter I already have written out but won't show to anyone until I reach that point; if I ever do because I'm such a procrastinator. Who isn't now days?
Friday, March 18, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Day 3
Sometimes the most exciting, and the most terrible things can happen in a small matter's time. Every Friday when there's a school day I play music over the PA in the school; welcoming in the weekend. The morning began with the pokemon theme song... and the day ended with an incomplete song by Maroon 5.
I remember the shaking.
I remember the smile on my face.
I remember the drain of life on everyone as the doors began to rattle.
I remember me switching off the music and screaming over the PA to get outside or under a desk.
I remember dropping the mike and diving for the nearest desk next to a teetering TV bolted against the wall. The principal screaming my words over the dead PA system that switched off with the power. Her running to a support against the wall; and my eyes locked on the swinging dead mike against the sound board of the PA. My heart stopped with the trembling earth.
Adrenalin hit me and I rushed to my bag next to the entrance; fumbling for a cell phone I knew wouldn't go through. I tried anyways. Nothing. I ran for the door, exiting the building to a slew of high school kids wondering around, lost about what to do. I went for my car; churning the dying engine to life and screeching out of the parking spot with horrible brakes. Screaming to bystanders to get out of the way, and me peeling down the road home. On my way the adrenalin faded... it almost felt like everything was fine, that the dread I felt in the pit of my stomach was all a game.
I arrived home to see my brother alive, him reassuring me mom and dad were okay as well. His room in tatters, mine just dandy with a half open closet. All was good. Until the aftershock hit, shaking me practically from my feet and both of us running for a door frame. Mom came home shortly after; breathing heavily telling us to go outside. She said she was going upstairs, to the 9th floor where other families live, no doubt suffering even more from the trembles. I went with, running up the stairs to reach a family. Mom helped the children down while I continued upwards; barely reaching the 8th floor as another aftershock hit me and made me stumble and grasp the door handle; pulling it ajar and crawling out of the staircase into the halls of apartments. A name plate on a door; I crawled for it to open it to a mother and baby in only a diaper.
Everyone was downstairs, all families gone from the building and resting in their cars; leaning to the radio for comfort.
8.9 earthquake. Two days prior had been a 7.2... today was even worse. Things eventually settled and we returned to our homes to fine broken things, no power, no heat, no connection to the outside world, but we had each other.
Even now the aftershocks still shake the building; reminding us what happened on Friday March 11, 2011. A earthquake that shook northern Japan like none other. A boat ended up in the middle of a city just a few minutes drive from where we were; the most devastated city just a few hours drive. We had survived; as much as we knew from Japanese folks.. only a few residents of the town had perished along the coast. Even now people are terrified of it happening again as the aftershocks remind us. Even my family did as much as they could just in case the power went out again. Turning on the heaters to full blast to warm the tomb of a house. We were alive though... and that's all that mattered.
I remember the shaking.
I remember the smile on my face.
I remember the drain of life on everyone as the doors began to rattle.
I remember me switching off the music and screaming over the PA to get outside or under a desk.
I remember dropping the mike and diving for the nearest desk next to a teetering TV bolted against the wall. The principal screaming my words over the dead PA system that switched off with the power. Her running to a support against the wall; and my eyes locked on the swinging dead mike against the sound board of the PA. My heart stopped with the trembling earth.
Adrenalin hit me and I rushed to my bag next to the entrance; fumbling for a cell phone I knew wouldn't go through. I tried anyways. Nothing. I ran for the door, exiting the building to a slew of high school kids wondering around, lost about what to do. I went for my car; churning the dying engine to life and screeching out of the parking spot with horrible brakes. Screaming to bystanders to get out of the way, and me peeling down the road home. On my way the adrenalin faded... it almost felt like everything was fine, that the dread I felt in the pit of my stomach was all a game.
I arrived home to see my brother alive, him reassuring me mom and dad were okay as well. His room in tatters, mine just dandy with a half open closet. All was good. Until the aftershock hit, shaking me practically from my feet and both of us running for a door frame. Mom came home shortly after; breathing heavily telling us to go outside. She said she was going upstairs, to the 9th floor where other families live, no doubt suffering even more from the trembles. I went with, running up the stairs to reach a family. Mom helped the children down while I continued upwards; barely reaching the 8th floor as another aftershock hit me and made me stumble and grasp the door handle; pulling it ajar and crawling out of the staircase into the halls of apartments. A name plate on a door; I crawled for it to open it to a mother and baby in only a diaper.
Everyone was downstairs, all families gone from the building and resting in their cars; leaning to the radio for comfort.
8.9 earthquake. Two days prior had been a 7.2... today was even worse. Things eventually settled and we returned to our homes to fine broken things, no power, no heat, no connection to the outside world, but we had each other.
Even now the aftershocks still shake the building; reminding us what happened on Friday March 11, 2011. A earthquake that shook northern Japan like none other. A boat ended up in the middle of a city just a few minutes drive from where we were; the most devastated city just a few hours drive. We had survived; as much as we knew from Japanese folks.. only a few residents of the town had perished along the coast. Even now people are terrified of it happening again as the aftershocks remind us. Even my family did as much as they could just in case the power went out again. Turning on the heaters to full blast to warm the tomb of a house. We were alive though... and that's all that mattered.
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