Yes, my weltschmerz seems to be forever ratcheting upwards. This time it’s Japan. The only thing I can think to do is throw all my money at the Red Cross and dig out old photos of our 1999 journey to Nippon.
We were living in Korea when we decided to use our summer vacation to take a trip across the “East Sea“. It was just a 3 hour ferry ride from Pusan to Fukuoka on the island of Kyushu. Despite my broken toe, we explored the city before taking the bullet train down to Nagasaki.
We watched fireworks from the top of that little hill, saw a drunken businessman puke off a bridge, sang karaoke in what may have been someone’s living room, ate fish heads on rice for breakfast, swam with flying fish at sunset, paid ten billion dollars for bowls of noodles and 100 trillion dollars for (separate) bunks in hostels. It was amazing. I loved the place. I would live in Japan in a second.
This is ground zero for the atomic bomb we dropped on Nagasaki in WWII. And this is why I know Japan will recover from the natural disaster they are facing today. Meanwhile I’ll just spread the word on ways we can help, and let my 6-year-old climb into bed with me when she has another tsunami nightmare.