It is March 11, 2012 today. One year ago, the magnitude 9.0 earthquake struck Tohoku, the north eastern Japan, wiping countless beautiful coastal towns with the great tsunami. This huge disaster killed approximately 19,000 people, destroying thousands of homes and businesses that are still far from being recovered.

Just one day before the earthquake struck was the start of my Japan cycling tour. I left my home in Fukuoka Prefecture to head south to Okinawa on my pink bike. I was so far away from the disaster site, but soon found out as I took a break from cycling around 3:30pm that afternoon. The event occurred at 2:45pm.

I was sad, confused, even had guilt for going cycling when so many people were dying as I watched the small TV screen in a little ramen restaurant. I’d done a lot of preparation for my tour, and started cycling with so much excitement like I’d never felt before in my life. Then on the very next day, it happened.

The sadness and helplessness took over me while I was cycling for some time. It took me days to want to share the fun stories with the world like I’d planned. In the middle of this sadness, I just felt lucky to be cycling in the south western Japan. After all, it was in my plan to cycle along the Pacific in the coming months, right where the tsunami struck.

There was much confusion in the country and mixed information about the nuclear plant disaster situation up in Fukushima. After six months and having learned more about the situation, I took the safe route to reach my goal on September 12th at Cape Soya of the northern tip of Japan in Hokkaido. After reaching my goal, I headed south and took the ferry boat to Sendai, one of the tsunami struck cities in Tohoku.

Even though it had been several months from the event, the coastal towns I reached were much like a post-war zone or possibly even worse. I was overwhelmed, being surrounded by this nothingness and the sheer power of nature that took everything in such short amount of time.

From Sendai, I cycled to the town of Ishinomaki, one of the badly hit towns in Miyagi Prefecture. I also visited the town of Onagawa, a 30 minute bike ride away from Ishinomaki. Both were fisherman’s towns, but most everything was taken away by the water.

The locals told me so many stories that you would not hear in the news media. I gave a free English tutoring session to a 4th grade girl during the five days of my stay in Ishinomaki. She told me stories that a child should never have to experience. It wasn’t just the tsunami that took away her friends, but also the bullying problems occurring in the temporary school location, where these younger kids were mixed with older middle school students. Teenagers have problems anywhere in the world. I know how awful and hurt it feels, because I’ve been there, being mentally attacked by a thoughtless teenager who ended up giving me an apology letter some months later. I wish I could protect these children, but I can’t be in school with them. The recovery of infrastructure also mean reducing these overlooked, secondary hurtful damages occurring to small school children’s lives.

It wasn’t all sad being there though. I was surrounded by so many people’s positive energy in Ishinomaki, that the victims of tsunami ended up cheering me up. They’d gone through so much emotional waves in the past six months, but were now back up and working hard to get as close as they could to the norm they used to have. Some young girls must have painted this on this destroyed house. It certainly brought up my mood.

A man my age from Osaka, Chun, had moved to Ishinomaki and had started a bicycle repair shop. It wasn’t much of a business yet, as he’d been volunteering by repairing thousands of bikes before he started charging small fees so he could continue his effort and making it sustainable. He had some horrific stories from the time he entered in Ishinomaki in April. It wasn’t just bike repairing, but so much more he’d done with others to make it as far as they’d gotten when I arrived on my bike, Sakura. Bicycles were the transportation that came in handy right after the tsunami, when little gas and few cars were available in the area. The pedal powered machines were what moved people between places in the days of recovery effort, and they still are.

I helped clean up a property by the place where they let me stay.

Chun was also an artist. He loved drawing, and this was the sign of his bike shop, Sono Kodomo Cycle. He’d rented a space from this yakitori restaurant owner, whose home/restaurant had been hit by the tsunami, but luckily survived. They’d cleaned it together, and that was where I stayed for five days. Look at this 70 year old yakitori man. He has finally opened up his restaurant again a couple months after I left Ishinomaki. All these people are trying to get themselves back up on their feet to live, and they’ve given me courage and energy to keep moving forward with my life too. It sounds like it should’ve been the opposite, I know, but that is how I felt.

I saw so many smiles on the survivors. Everyone was helping each other with kindness, and I’d say I was helped more than I helped them during my short stay. I want everyone in the world to know that this recovery effort is still continuing, and will take a long, long time. There are numerous existing problems still, but Japan won’t give up, till we can truly say that we are back up and running again like it used to be. Many, many thanks for all your support and prayers from around the world – we are receiving your love. Peace!

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One major reason why I wanted to cycle closer to Mt Fuji was to see Sakasa Fuji, literally meaning, Upside Down Mt Fuji. Mt Fuji has many different nicknames, depending on the way the clouds cover the mountain, or by how the sun shines from behind her. The mirrored reflection of Mt Fuji appears on the surrounding lakes, only when the water is dead flat. This seems easy to come across, but the weather conditions have to be just so.

Waking up by Lake Kawaguchi, I walked across the bridge to catch Mt Fuji in the early morning haze. It was near perfect in its faint appearance, as if it were a huge water color painting in front of me. No, there was no blue sky, nor a clear definition of the mountain, but it felt just right.

Not only was I lucky with Mt Fuji being in a good mood, the wind in the morning decided to wait just until I was done with my morning walk. Twenty minutes later, I could not longer see the mirrored Mt Fuji on the lake.

Moving on from the dreamy images of Mt Fuji, let me show you unreal in another way. This is called yakisoba pan. It is stir-fried noodles in a hotdog bun. Yes, noodles sandwiched in a bread. Confused? Is it totally wrong? It’s actually not as bad as it may seem, plus it was a perfect carb loader for someone about to cycle over the hills.

Up, up on the quiet green road I go.

In the clouds you see (or don’t) is Mt Fuji. She was finally hiding from me, but the swans were out and about in Lake Yamanaka.

Just when I was admiring these pretty swans, I saw something coming from afar in the lake, getting closer and closer to me.

Can it be…?

Oh, it IS.

It’s a GIANT swan SHIP!!

Really, this ain’t no ordinary two-seater duck boat. Isn’t this so… Japan?

Being surrounded by the green tunnel feels so good even in the uphill.

Marking my record speed of 57km per hour on the downhill with a huge adrenaline rush, I took a break by the river with crystal clear water. There I found a rather cute statue of kappa, the Japanese water monster, said to live in rivers and ponds. These mischievous monsters are known to drown children in the river, making them not so cute in its act. I think this folklore may have been a way to warn children to be careful when they swam in the river.

It was not just the monster that was sitting by the water. Japanese water iris was in full bloom in bright purple and yellow.

If you have been to Japan before, but only to the big cities like Tokyo and Osaka, you still have a lot to see in the rest of the country. Majority of Japan is far less crowded and full of nature, just like these rice paddies, with countless mountain hiking trails with see-through rivers to cool you down. Hiking is one of the major activities that many people love in Japan, followed by a long dip in a hot onsen bath to relax the muscles.

Cycling between the quiet, peaceful rice fields with birds chirping is a time to cherish.

This village looked like it came right out of an old storybook.

Tempura dinner seized the day as I entered Sagamihara City in Kanagawa Prefecture. I was finally in Kanto area (the center region of Japan). Well, that only took 3 short months. Go figure, I can cycle more than just two hours!

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