A fond farewell to Sendai

We woke up at 6.30am this morning to a genki, hearty breakfast prepared by Yuki's momma. Both momma and papa had to go to leave for work early. After a fond farewell to both of them, we left Sendai in happy spirits!

Today felt easy because we rested well. The weather was perfect and we kicked merrily, chatting jovially along the way. Don't be deceived by all our happy posts though because sometimes we become cranky and whingey. But today wasn't one of those days. We had deep conversations about life today, what this trip meant to us, what we hope to achieve when we go back...

Occasionally, we would hear the distant shouts of someone yelling, "ganbatte!", to us. We even had a junior high school girl wishing us good luck and giving us her last pack of Pocky sticks. People everywhere have been very friendly but people around Sendai are not shy to express it! We wonder if this openness is because people in the countryside focus more on the community and also being present to life than city people.

Aside from a beautiful sunset on the bridge where we literally saw the sun drop into the snow-capped mountains, the other highlight was staying in a hotel that initially seemed abandoned. We later found out that that hotel was built to house the workers and builders who worked on rebuilding the destruction of the Sendai tsunami.

If you arrived at the hotel in the evening as we did, you might feel like it's a scene from the game, "Fallout". There was nothing much around in the vincinity. There were wide open areas and an abandoned bowling center and arcade. Do-not-enter ropes were drapped across entrances and dim flashing lights where the light bulbs needed replacement lit up some areas. I swore the hair on my neck stood up. The hotel lobby itself was wide and big but there was no one around except a receptionist. There were three slot machines flashing, their lights casting an eerie glow on the wall as we walked passed. When we spoke, there was also a slight echo. I can't stress enough the vivid images of an apocalyptic disaster wasteland.

When we found out what the hotel was constructed for, it all fell into place. The hotel was built to house the volunteers, builders and construction workers who were working to rebuild the destruction zone after the tsunami aftermath. And there were 5 such spots that have now turned into a hotel. Just that one piece of information changed the whole scene from freaky to humbling, scary to meaningful. From a disaster zone to a purposeful beacon of hope in one small piece of information.

Funny that isn't it? And then it follows that if life is simply a matter of interpretation, then perhaps there are so many more perspectives from which we can potentially view our lives right now.

Michelle Yang