These aren’t trinkets

Tsunami cleanup must be done respectfully

More than a year has passed since the earthquake and resulting tsunami devastated Japan, killing almost 16,000 people and causing entire villages to disappear.

Tsunami cleanup must be done respectfully

More than a year has passed since the earthquake and resulting tsunami devastated Japan, killing almost 16,000 people and causing entire villages to disappear.

For many people, it was a sad event that fell out of their memory after a few weeks. But for those of us who dealt with more than just news reports that day, the debris washing up on the Oregon coast is more than just an interesting story. It’s a reminder of things that happened a year ago and the source of countless questions that could never be adequately answered.

As everyone knows, Oregon shares an ocean with Japan. The Pacific stretches nearly 5,000 miles between the Japanese coast and the western coast of the United States. After the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, more than five million tons of debris washed into the Pacific Ocean: wreckage of entire homes, plastic bottles, containers, cars and whole ships, even a shipping dock. Almost 3.5 million tons of the debris sank, but the rest—more than 1.5 million tons—floated out, drifting over the ocean.

The debris will travel wherever the winds and currents take it. In April, the U.S. fired cannons at the Japanese “ghost ship” that found its way to the Gulf of Alaska, where it sank more than 6,000 feet to the bottom of the ocean. And from now through 2014, the debris will wash up everywhere along the western coast of North America.

Most of the debris is likely to be garbage. Human remains will have decomposed at this point, so the likelihood of finding any is low. And despite some people’s worries about radiation, it’s not a concern: Most of the debris washed into the ocean before the nuclear event occurred. The radiation on debris that washed into the ocean after the Fukushima Daiichi disaster has since dissipated.

But some things don’t dissipate so easily. Emotional damage is something else entirely.

I lived in Japan for over a year. I was 19 and had barely come out of my shell. At my best, was awkward, and my grasp on the language wasn’t always on par. Still, I made friends. Some spoke English. I made friends from Germany, Thailand, China, Mongolia and all sorts of other places. I also made friends from different areas of Japan: Kyoto, Kanazawa, Okinawa and Sendai.

After I left, I wasn’t the best at keeping in touch with everyone. Time difference and Internet access aside, I got busy. Other than Facebook and the occasional email, we didn’t talk much. Then the earthquake happened. I spent two days calling, emailing and frantically looking for news about all my friends in Japan. Everyone answered. Everyone except my friends in Sendai.

The news never got better. Losing people in a natural disaster is unlike anything I’d ever imagined. There’s nobody to blame and no satisfactory answer as to why.

Hearing about the debris washing up on the coast brought it all back. If the stuff floating to shore was any other debris, I’d be as fascinated as all the other people headed to the coast to dig through what washes up. I’d be the first in line to help clear the non-native species from the dock or to help keep the coast clean.

I’m not saying not to go to the coast. It’s fine to help with the cleanup. But it needs to be done respectfully.

The debris washing up is not something to be put in someone’s collection. It’s nothing to pick up, clean off and put on your shelf. It’s is what remains of people’s lives. It’s a symbol of loss and a reminder of a terrible time.

Pick it up, sure. Dust it off, clean it and take a few minutes to consider where it came from and what it means. But treat it with respect.

After all, the loss of almost 16,000 people is not something to take lightly.