Dear Family and Friends,
We began our day before the sun had even thought about rising—at 4:30 a.m., groggy but
eager, shuffling through the hotel halls to store away our luggage. Tokyo Station awaited, its
underground maze-like corridors a prelude to the journey ahead. In between navigating the
station’s currents, we made time for a quick stop at a bakery, grabbing snacks to sustain us for the next leg of the trip. The highlight of the morning was boarding the Shinkansen bound for Kurikomakogen in Miyagi Prefecture. The bullet train sliced through the landscape at an astonishing 310 km/h, and in a blink, we arrived at our stop. Exiting the train was its own adventure—90 seconds to step onto the platform before the doors shut and the train rocketed off again.
From there, a one-hour charter bus ride led us to Kesennuma, where we were greeted by
Megumi Ishimoto and Tomoyoki Miura at the Oya Coast. The air smelled of salt, and the
rhythmic sound of the waves set the tone for the day. At Hamanasu Kaiyoukan Hidamari
Restaurant, we sat for a lecture about the long and complex process of getting a seawall built post-3/11. Tomoyoki Miura’s words left a deep impression on me, especially when he said,“Consensus-building is like the ebb and flow of the tide.”
His insights highlighted the delicate balance of empathy, trust, and justice required in community decision-making. He spoke about relationships of trust, group psychology, and the confrontational structure that often arises when rebuilding after a disaster. It was a reminder that the process of healing—both literal and metaphorical—is never linear but requires patience, resilience, and understanding.
After taking some time to reflect in small roundtable discussions, we made our way across the street to the Oya Kaigan Road Station, which was built thanks to Miura-san’s work as a
community leader. Here, we wandered through the Otanaikaigan Sanchoku Market, browsing through local goods and selecting omiyage for our loved ones back home. The shopping spree ended on a sweet note at Hama Cafe, where we indulged in ice cream before boarding the bus once more.
Next, we arrived at the 3/11 Memorial Museum in Minamisanriku. As we lined up in rows,
excitement and nervous anticipation filled the air. We waited as our host families entered the
room, each of us wondering what the next 24 hours would hold. One by one, we exchanged
goodbyes and followed our host families to our respective homes. Some of us were taken inland towards farmland, while my group was driven towards the coast of Minamisanriku, Motoyoshi District, where we met the Watanabe family.
Oto-san and Oka-san, an elderly couple with warm smiles and welcoming gestures, greeted us at the door. As soon as we set our bags down, they ushered us to the table, instantly filling it with homemade dishes—takoyaki, conger eel freshly caught by Oto-san, octopus, and more. We gathered around the kotatsu, the warmth of the heated table making the experience even cozier. Despite the language barrier, we shared laughter, exchanged stories, and listened attentively to the wisdom of our hosts. Oto-san made it a point to tell us that this experience should not stay in Japan—we must take it back with us, continue learning, and share what we have gained.“Interculturalism is important,” he emphasized, before adding with a knowing smile,“and democracy is the best thing.”
As the evening winded down, we found comfort in the simple act of being present—eating
together, watching a little television, and letting the sounds of the coast lull us into a sense of peace. Tomorrow promises more lessons, more stories, and more moments of shared humanity.
Sincerely,
Tyler Jones
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