Oasis

Two devastated communities on either side of a seaside hotel. One with skeletal houses, the other with bare foundations and heavy equipment. 

The hotel was built high on a hillside, and was sheltered by a small mountain topped with a sleek white lighthouse. The wave took out 25 out of 27 little boats, destroyed the public restrooms, came up the bank, surged across the parking lot and covered the middle of the road, and then receded, leaving the hotel intact. An oasis of sorts. 

I heard numbers like 7, 9, and 15 meters. One man asking why he hasn't seen tide pools by the hotel since the quake, and being told that the coastline dropped. (One of the communities has "tide pool" in its name.) 

A school teacher from out of town who spilled her quake story to the first volunteer she met, about kids hiding under desks just like during their earthquake drills, then evacuating to the playground but without time to grab coats, and standing there shivering in the snow flurries. No mention of the wave. Maybe her school was on a mountainside. 

A woman who called out from her second story window to the people heading to the seawall to watch the tsunami (seawalls had been completely safe any other time), warning them to run the other way, got a snide comment from one of them, and then saw them all get washed away. 

Don't judge the departed. Hindsight, remember? Breached seawalls were unthinkable a few months ago. Pray for the living who saw too much. 

The hotel owner saying that nobody but nobody expected damage from the tsunami, and some went shopping by the seaside after the quake. "If only they hadn't gone..."

The Japan Self-Defense Force soldier off-duty  who brought his grandmothers to see the coastline. The tired way that he accepted my thanks for his hard work. He nodded quietly. "If only the nuclear plant hadn't been damaged..."

The silent pain in one grandmother's eyes. 

Everyone there had lost so much. 

The hotel parking lot was where we set up the barbecue. Frankfurters on a stick, grilled fish topped with grated radish, steak kebobs, chicken skewers, sautéed onions/mushrooms/green peppers, grilled onions, grilled corn, rice balls, yakisoba (Chinese noodles stir-fried with pork, cabbage, onions, and almost-BBQ sauce, and served with pickled ginger), watermelon and snow-cones. 

Technically the snow cones were supposed to be for the kids. Bah. You should have seen how many adults ate two or more snow cones all by their lonesome. 

There was a ring toss game and a water balloon pool set up for the kids. I saw the staff add extra candy to the ring toss winnings. And you never saw a water balloon pool so lax with the rules. So much for using a paper hook to fish out the string of a water balloon floating in the pool. There were more little hands in that tiny plastic pool than disintegrated paper hooks. It's all good. 

And bubbles. That's where the laughter was. Kids chasing bubbles. 

Cloudy skies during the meal, then hot, hot sun afterward. 

I didn't even bat an eye when I heard that a YWAM (Youth With A Mission) team was coming. YWAM shows up absolutely everywhere, worldwide. Their bus couldn't get through the narrow roads so they walked the last mile or so. They entertained the crowd with drum performances and breakdancing. 

That completed the feast and the gift of a little bit of laughter. 

The silent grandmother enjoyed the drums. Mission accomplished. Small mission, but accomplished.