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The People I Hear No.3

Robert and Regis both live in Fukushima City. Their homes are around sixty kilometres from the nuclear plant which has been the centre of the world's attention. Neither has, for the time being, decided to leave. We spoke to them on Skype, as the internet appears to have fared better than mobile phone masts in stricken parts of Japan.

Robert began, the line wobbling and distorting as it shifted across the ether.

'I am sitting on a sofa, and my posterior and legs are conscious of movement. It's just been going on so long. Even when you go to bed you feel it. It's so unpleasant.'

I wondered if Regis could feel the tremor too.

'I don't feel it right now but there was a tremor earlier. I've felt twenty or so that have shaken the house. But nothing compared with Friday.'

I've never experienced an earthquake. Or least I've never felt one. When we were in Mexico City during the swine flu outbreak there was a small quake which made the building sway. It passed me by though. I was too pre-occupied with the imminent news bulletin and was oblivious until everyone else asked 'did you feel that?'

It's hard for me to imagine a life where the earth shifts almost continuously. Surely it undermines your very being as you try and go about your day to day life.

Regis suggested that you do adapt.

'I find the most difficult thing is at night-time. You're woken up with jolts. Of course our small children keep us up at night too,' he added with what sounded like a wry smile.

'But just being rattled about at night-time is very nerve-wracking. At the same time when you see the TV with people who's homes have been washed away, we're very lucky to be alive, safe and to have our homes still standing'.

Lucky seemed an unlikely word to describe calling Fukushima home at the moment.

Regis mentioning his children made me think about my little girl. She's at the age when explaining death and disaster is becoming a conversation I can't avoid. Evidently though it's one thing to give logic and meaning to an event many miles from home, quite another when your shaking home is a constant reminder.

'They feel the tremors, and they're going to see the TV,' Regis explained. They see the adults being upset. My daughter is three and half. She was playing with a small doll's house and she was shaking and shaking the house. They understand what's happening. They learn to be afraid from the adults around them.'

Further north is Emu, a woman living one of the lives that makes Regis feel lucky. Her home is in the town of Tazajyo in Miyagi prefecture, which is close to epicentre of the earthquake. Many lost their lives there on Friday.

Emu has been driving along the sea front when the wave arrived. She jumped out her car, ran into a building and climbed the stairs to the roof from where she watched as her car was swept away.

'Some of my friends' homes are gone. My grandmother died. I just feel so sad, but I have to live because I was lucky.' That word again.

'We have some rice, but once it's gone I don't know about the future. I'm just worrying if I can eat tomorrow.'