In Japan, earthquakes happen at least once a week. There’s a system that predicts earthquakes five seconds beforehand to help you prepare.

On March 11, I was working out in a gym. Suddenly, the power went out and the ground started to shake. I thought to myself, “Well okay, again. No big deal.” But the shake didn’t end, and I soon realized that this earthquake was huge. Personal trainers told me to evacuate. I couldn’t walk. I felt as if my legs lost control. Fortunately, the buildings in Japan were built strong for earthquakes so we were safe, but phones had no service and I couldn’t communicate with my family. It was chaos.

When I got back home after walking for an hour, I turned on the TV. I was shocked out of my wits. Tohoku was destroyed by a tsunami. I saw people on the top of a hospital waving and asking for help. It was absolutely unbelievable. Cars, houses were all gulped by the tsunami.

Why? Why did this happen? Why Japan?

A week later, the death toll went up to 6,900 people. I was just shocked. What if I lived there? What if my families and friends were there…?

But in the midst of this heartbreak, there was a one thing that made my happy. I discovered the beauty of Japanese culture.

There was a very little looting. People waited patiently for food despite the length of the line. This summer was all about saving electricity for Tohoku. It was over 90 degrees everyday, but the air conditioners on trains and some parts of shopping malls were off. But nobody ever complained. We had only one thing on our minds: to help rebuild Tohoku, and still today, we are striving for that.

Before the earthquake, nobody was truly patriotic. I was a little bit disappointed how people didn’t appreciate the country. After the quake,  I was very moved and proud of being Japanese. I’ve never seen people working as one for people who are suffering from this disaster.

Please, pray for us.

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