Quake-stricken Japanese still stoic 100 days later

As Japan prepares to mark the 100th day since one of its worst natural disasters this weekend, its people having been showing patience and fortitude in their efforts to rebuild their lives. Their patience with their politicians, however, has been wearing thin, experts say.
Each morning, Naomi Hiratsuka reaches for the rubber boots of her daughter, who has been missing since the magnitude-9 earthquake and tsunami struck on March 11. The playground at the school 12-year-old Koharu attended still lies covered in mud. "We don't know where to look any more," her 37-year-old mother was quoted as saying by the Mainichi Shimbun newspaper Friday. Of the 108 pupils enrolled at Okawa elementary school in Ishinomaki, one of the hardest-hit towns, more than 60 are still missing.
Naomi has come to terms with the fact that her daughter is almost certainly no longer alive. But she has not given up her search for her remains. "A single one of her fingers would be better than nothing," she told the reporter with tears in her eyes.
Memorial services are due to be held on Saturday, the 100th day since the Great East Japan Quake, as it has come to be known, struck 70 kilometres out at sea, releasing a devastating shock wave and tsunami that left over 15,400 confirmed dead.
Whenever another decomposing body washes up on the shore, locals light incense and pray, the Asahi Shimbun reported. "Japanese people can only come to terms with death once they find the remains," one expert was quoted as saying. Over 7,700 people are still officially missing. The government has introduced new procedures to make it easier for relatives to declare missing loved ones legally dead.
Previous requirement for a statement from a witness has been dropped, and relatives now need only provide information such as the victim's whereabouts on the day of the tsunami. The move aimed to make it easier for survivors to claim life insurance or inheritances. Many are desperate for the money, having lost almost all their belongings, and often their jobs.
In Buddhism, the 100th day of mourning is known as Sokkoku ki, or the rite of the end of crying. It is feared that the tears of the bereaved can extinguish the lamp needed by the dead to light their way to the other side. "This does not put an end to the mourning," Buddhist priest Ryokan Ohgayu was quoted as saying by the Asahi Shimbun. "But it does mean one should stop making recriminations to one's self and to the departed for their absence," said the priest from the north-eastern town of Otsuchi.
Tsutomu Nakasato is a good illustration of this Japanese resilience. The 61-year-old held his crippled mother in his arms as she died of cold, he told the Sankei Shimbun paper. Three days later, the bodies of his wife and grandchild were found, and Nakasato was moved to an emergency shelter.
It was there that he was moved by the plight of the children, who were particularly affected by the restricting conditions. In memory of his own grandson, he set about improving their lot. "I want these children to be able to live more comfortably," he said. An estate agent before the disaster, Nakasato had several properties in the area, which he has restored with volunteer help and put at the free disposal of tsunami survivors with children.
"I want people to be able to live here without worries, until they can get their lives back up and running again," he said. "My grandson, my wife and my mother would be pleased." All over Japan are people who have lost everything, and who do not even know whether they will ever be able to return home, but with inventiveness and compassion are pulling through, standing together and looking to the future.
Patience is wearing thin, however, with politicians in Tokyo, who appear more concerned with party politicking and manoeuvring to oust Prime Minister Naoto after only a year in office. The disillusionment is nowhere clearer than regarding nuclear energy policy. The Japanese embraced the technology for decades, in spite of several safety-related scandals that revealed considerable proximity of the industry to its supposed regulators. But this faith in the suitability of nuclear power for earthquake-prone Japan has now been violently shaken, and the winds of public opinion have started to turn against it.
The government has already abandoned plans to increase the provision of nuclear power from 30 to 50 per cent of the nation's electrical requirements. But this does not seem to have been enough, with around 50,000 people expected to take to the streets in Tokyo on Sunday, in the largest show of public opposition to nuclear power to date.