“There was nothing left of the city”: the gloomy landscape of Fukushima 10 years later

FUKUSHIMA.- After the earthquake and tsunami that hit the nuclear power plant Located about 25 kilometers from their home, Tomoko Kobayashi and her husband were urgently evacuated and had to leave their Dalmatian dog, assuming that in a few days they would return home.

It lasted five years. A decade after this natural disaster on March 11 that triggered a nuclear disaster, the Japanese government has not even fully reopened villages and towns within 25 kilometers of the original evacuation zone. surrounding the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power plant. And even if it did, many former residents have no intention of going back.

Some of those who returned felt that returning home justified risk of residual radiation. Others, like Kobayashi, 68, had to resume their activity.

“We had reasons to go back and resources to do it,” says Kobayashi, who runs a youth hostel. “We thought it made sense.”

But the Fukushima they found is less welcoming than haunted.

On the nearby waterfront on the Pacific, for example, stands a massive boardwalk built to prevent another tsunami from hitting the nuclear power plant, a disturbing sentinel in a once bucolic region known for its peaches and thick noodle ramen.

In nearby towns, like Futaba, grass grows in cracks in the asphalt and on the terraces of abandoned buildings. Almost invisible among the overgrown pastures, the forgotten bicycle of a schoolboy or a delivery man.

For many of those who returned, it was quite a process of rediscovering these familiar and hostile places.

“Everyone asks me why I came back, how many came back,” Kobayashi said. “I don’t understand what they mean, because in reality the place no longer exists.”

The disaster that hit northern Japan in March 2011 was claimed the lives of over 19,000 people and it was a moment of truth for the world about the dangers of nuclear power. He also gave the name of Fukushima an international reputation unfortunately comparable to that of Chernobyl.

In Japan, the legacy of the disaster remains imminent: the Japanese government has proposed to dump around 1 million tonnes of polluted water into the sea, angry local fishermen and lawsuits against the government and the plant operator are being taken to the highest courts in the country. The nuclear issue remains very sensitive.

And in the miles around the factory, there are physical markers, reminders of an accident that forced the exodus of around 164,000 people.

In Katsurao, about 40 kilometers inland from Kobayashi’s house, radioactive soils are being deposited in temporary waste sites. From a distance, the green mounds look like children’s toys strewn across a beige carpet.

In Futaba, the grounds of a Buddhist temple are still covered with debris from the earthquake.

And in some wooded areas of Fukushima, scientists continue to find evidence of persistent radiation.

The young families who left the evacuation zone have already rebuilt their lives elsewhere. However, local governments – sometimes with funds from the nuclear power plant operator – have built new schools, roads, social housing and other infrastructure, in an attempt to entice former neighbors.

For some over 60, who cannot imagine living elsewhere, the option is attractive.

“They want to be in their hometown”says Tsunao Kato, 71, a third-generation barber, who reopened his barbershop even before the running water was restored. “They want to die here.”

One advantage is that the threat of radiation seems less immediate than that of the coronavirus, says Kato, who has his hair salon in Minami Soma town. In that sense, living amid reminders of a nuclear disaster, in cities where streetlights light up empty corners, is a welcome form of social distancing.

Like Kato, Kobayashi runs a family business, in his case an inn. Her guesthouse in Minami Soma has been in her family for generations and she took over in 2001 when her mother retired.

The hostel suffered extensive damage, mainly due to tsunami waters. But the family restored it and decided to reopen. Her Dalmatian dog, who survived the nuclear accident, died just before the renovations were completed.

Kobayashi says that They never expected an avalanche of tourists, but they received people who wanted to return to the area and had nowhere to stay..

“There was nothing left of the city”, He says. “Anyone who wants to come back will have to rebuild.”

Translation of Jaime Arrambide

The New York Times