I’ve been blessed this week to learn about the gift of giving and how powerful it is. Doing a physical act without condition or pretense may be the single most powerful act each of us has to give. Today we wrapped up our last day of work, tomorrow we make our way back to Tokyo. My team was amazing. Richard, Martine, brother Joaquin, Seam, Yoko and Natsue were a dream. I have discovered a new family here in Japan.

We gave our soul to the mission and we touched the lives of many. Our hard work may not have made a dent in the devastation but our ears, hearts, commitment and the stories will hopefully resonate with those we have met and those whom we will share these moments. From time to time this week, we were asked to give well wishes and thoughts to the people of Tohoku and one of those moments, brought me to tears. With her giving hand she wrote “Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a beautiful butterfly.” -Nadine

The people of Ishinomaki amaze me daily and deserve all the assistance the world has to offer. From randomly dropping off cold drinks and food as we worked, to their daily wishes of “Otsukaresama desu” (“Your tired, but thank you for your work”) by my account, they are already butterflies.

With the end of Golden week in Japan, the amount of volunteers has fallen drastically. Peace Boat needs your support, finically and physically alike. The need has never been greater and the people more deserving. Please consider these possibilities, if you have questions I’ve become a great resource. This is an opportunity that only happens a few times in your life. Please jump, and I promises a net will appear.

Sending love to the butterfly of Japan,

Jayson Carpenter

A quote that has never more meaning for me, I hope it resonates with you.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us, it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

The next story was from a Florist. When the Tsunami warning was activated, he was able to make it to higher ground. Like many, he watched as the city was swallowed up by the wave, destroying everything in its path. He lost his shop and many of his friends. When the waters receded he was at a complete loss of hope, for so many reasons. His main concern was with how he could help the city when he could not even deliver flowers to funerals. Here is a man would felt that he had spent his entire life supplying flowers to his city, but just when the city needed his service the most, he had no way of delivering. One afternoon he offered one of the Peace Boat volunteers a flower as a token of appreciation.  But she insisted on paying and so bought a bundle in order to contribute to his recovery.

Today, we added another member to our group. Her name is Yoko, she is a sweet and quiet Japanese woman that works at the Panamanian Embassy. She had come from the embassy with her boss, to work for a few days on the Relief. I am excited to have another Japanese speaker in the group, it makes for a nice balance.

We spent the day cleaning a yard for an Ishinomaki older couple. It was covered in a toxic sludge. At this point it had mostly dried with the consistency of thick pudding that was black in color with no detectable odor. Initially, some of the group were concerned that today’s task wasn’t making enough of an impact. For myself, cleaning the yard was well worth doing, if it meant happiness for even one person; one victim. Happiness has a way rippling through a community. For me, each day holds its own opportunities, from cleaning someone’s home, to collecting fish in the streets. Each mission creates its own ripple. Today, was spent making a family’s beautiful garden whole again. Yesterday, it was helping to prevent disease and tomorrow who knows.

The families are always so grateful and insist on bestowing upon us a small token of their appreciation. Today, they gave us chocolate. I always feel awkward accepting something from a person that has lost everything, but in some small way, I think it helps them too. They are such a proud and gracious people. I am amazed by their warm hearts and their desire for honor, even in the face of a tragedy like this. This experience makes me want to be a better man.

The work had been psychical, today. We shoveled sludge for nearly seven hours, but it was the kind of work in which I excel. We moved sludge at a back breaking pace. I enjoy the meditation that can be acquired during physical activity. In this case, the repitition of shoveling, the engaging of every inch of the body, allows a deep connection for me to the work I am doing.

We were only able to get through half of the yard today, but it was nice to see how the family saw our small contribution as a major improvement to their yard. We decided as a group that we would like to come back tomorrow and finish what we had started.

Right now my body hurts and I smell awful. It is cold and windy, but I feel truly fulfilled. Because of the language barrier, I only understand fragments of what people are saying. People’s faces provide a universal language of gratitude and humility on both our parts. These are the moments you cherish in life. I feel blessed to have this experience, to find a way to live in this moment, to the fullest.

Peace boat is asking that volunteers consider staying for an additional week. I wish that I could, but bills call and I have not worked in weeks. I dream of staying longer. It is all so complicated. I do know though, that this is the beginning of a lifelong journey of service and I will be back to Ishinomaki to help again.

Sweet dreams.

I’d rather sit in a hot port-o-potty than endure the smell of cleaning up rotting fish.  Now, with that said, today was a long day.  I started at 4:30 a.m., sunrise.  I promised that I would make everyone pancakes today. When I awoke I was greeted to 30 mph winds which had scattered tents, laundry and debris everywhere. So I rallied, and rounded up all of my ingredients for making pancakes and set off to an extra tent for international volunteers.  There, I made my futile attempt to make semi-edible pancakes, severed with maple syrup and peanut butter.   I was greeted with many “Oshi Desu” (it tastes good.)   I think they were being nice, but it was wonderful bringing everyone together to share a meal.

At breakfast Joaquin was convinced that it was much too windy and dangerous to work today, I assured him that everything would be o.k. and we should continue to try and make an impact wherever it was necessary.  We just needed to make sure that all of our tents were secure and everything was stowed away.

At 7:30 a.m. we headed out for our daily meeting and exercise.  The wind was picking up and even more as the sun rose.  Many more people were up at this point and realizing that their tents were flat and their belongings were blowing about.  They scurried around trying to stake down and cover all of their belongings.  For whatever reason, I feel more comfortable in these conditions than most.  Every year, I go camping in the desert.  We always have a few days of wind much stronger than the mischief that the weather was giving us that day.  So, I welcomed the old friend.

At the end of our meeting we were given our assignment: we would be working in a fishing town called Ibarazu and cleaning up the dead fish that were strewn all over the city from the local fish processing factory.  It was hard to fathom at the time what this actually meant…until we started collecting.

We loaded up on buses and set off for the 30 minute bus ride.  When we entered the city it was clear that Ibarazu was hit even harder than the section of Ishinomaki that we were working in previously.  Cars were hanging from trees, upside down, in buildings and even on top of buildings.  It was a ghost town.  We saw military and aid workers, but very few locals.  I was a bit shell shocked by the devastation and the smell that permeated from the area.

We were given maps with sections of the city to work in, along with wheelbarrows, shovels and burlap bags to collect the fish.  It is hard to imagine a fishing plant large enough to strew fish across an entire city but as the day moved on, the reality of that possibility became clear.  The smell was horrendous; five week old melting, rotting, maggot filled fish carcasses were everywhere.  They fell apart when you grabbed them and were too slippery to stay hoisted on a shovel.   Some were in boxes, some inside bags, most just strewn about. They were in any place you could think of: cars, under cars, on sidewalks, hanging from trees and in big piles of trash along the road.  It was like a smelly Easter egg hunt, but the eggs were too easy to find and you were not as excited to find a good one.

I brought menthol, Vick’s vapor rub, to put on my nose under my mask.  This was not the most glamorous task, truth be told, and I wouldn’t wish this on my worse enemy.  But I wasn’t there for the glamor.

I think I was most impressed with Richard; he seamed to have no reaction to the stench.  By the end of the day I was referring to him as the Fish Pit-Bull. Richard would just dive in and grab fish like he was as at sushi bar!  For me, as the day went on it didn’t get any easier.  Somehow it just got worse.  When we came close to done with our task, I came across the most fowl smelling box of fish on the planet.  When I picked it up the box tore apart and shot maggots all over my rubber gloves, then came the hot rotting stench that I may never forget.  My stomach decided that was enough.  I begged Joaquin to remove my mask as he had his gloves off already.  As soon as he did I started dry heaving, and then I lost my cookies.  I made my way up the embankment that we were working next to, but it seemed I couldn’t escape that smell.  The hot wind blue the stench right back to me.  For the next fifteen minutes I fought to contain myself.  When I recovered, it was back to work.  Vick’s, you failed me.

At the end of the day we were told that our group of 60 people recovered 10 tons of fish in one day.  It was unbelievable and rewarding.

Today, I felt the most powerful earthquake so far.  Until this point, it has just been a little wiggle here and there, but this evening we experienced a 4.9 with the epicenter very close.  I know this isn’t much by most Japanese standard, but it did throw my heart into action.

Today was emotionally powerful for me.  But in the end I feel that we enabled some amazing change to occur.

We were dispatched to assist in the cleanup of a government building as well as a woman’s home in the relief area.  Today began at 7:30 a.m. with our daily meeting followed by group exercise.  Yes, group exercise.  In Japan, older blue collar workers and labor intensive companies participate in group exercise.  It is so foreign to me, this ritual, but I really enjoy it.  I rely on the person in front of me, as a model, for the morning poses.  Since there are many of us in the same boat for that matter, it is always a gamble as to whether or not anything effective will be accomplished.  I am often one move behind the entire group.  This act allows me a tender awkwardness, like being a child again.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=r99rhuDK48U

After our meeting our shuttle took us to Eye Plaza.  From there we began our walk.  The streets were eerily quiet, they sky a deep gray, and there was a slight chill in the air as we made our way.  The longer I am here, the larger the devastation seems to appear.  I am starting to realize that we are only on the fringe of the destruction.  We are in the area that has “survived.”  Many buildings are completely destroyed.  Rubble, debris and peoples’ belongings are heaped in a haunting architecture, everything from appliances to books, furniture to children’s toys.  And in the end, all of this will go to the dump.  It seems less than fitting or respectful to the person’s life, but a necessary evil at this point.

As we made our way through the train station, I was struck by the presence of hundreds of bikes.  Many people bike to the station and catch the train to their next destination, so there are large bike parking lots everywhere.  The odd thing was that very few of the bikes had been moved since the quake.  Hundreds of chains were slowly collecting dust, the rust layering their skeletons.  I can’t help but imagine a lost soul for each one of these bicycles; tombstones of sorts.

My heart sinks and my eyes fill with everything.

When we arrived to the government building we were asked to move tatami mats and clean the floors.  The large space felt more like a church than a government building.  We were given brooms, mops and a high-pressure washer.  This section had restored electricity and water.

The hard wood floors had buckled and the room was a wreck.  We were assigned two other teams to work with because the project was so overwhelming.  The men made quick work of the tatami mats, shuttling them to the street while the others started on the floors.  It was amazing to see what the will of these teams will accomplish in a short amount of time.  Everyone worked extremely hard, no one complained about the job at hand.  We worked in unison as a team with a common goal.  It felt amazing and within a couple hours we had made a huge impact.  Our leaders asked that the groups break into smaller units as there was still so much more to do in the rest of the city.

Our second assignment was to assist a single older woman in cleaning her home.  She was only a few blocks away but had no running water or electricity, nearly six weeks after the quake.  Peace boat had already dispatched to her home prior to our groups arrival and had done an amazing job.  We were asked to help her continue the work they started, beginning with scrubbing the floors.  We were given rags and pales and begun to clean on our hands and knees.  We had to walk around the block to a school where the military was dispensing the water we needed.

I can’t express how amazing it feels to know that what you’re doing in that moment will affect someone’s life.  I’ve never cleaned and worked so hard.  I wanted the job to be perfect.   While we were working she brought us drinks, I was moved by her generosity.  This woman had lost everything but she still felt the desire to bring us tokens of her appreciation.  As we worked Natuse had a conversation with the woman.  When Natuse returned I could tell she was moved by the woman’s words.  Natuse shared the woman’s story with me, later in the day.

This woman lost her daughter and two grand children right before the quake to a car accident.  She was ready to give up, then the earthquake ripped through her life, destroying her home and killing three more family members.  Just this thought brings me to tears.  When we were done she kept thanking us and bowing.  She was embarrassed by the lacking of color in her hair, but kept lowering her head to us anyway.  In her excitement and gratitude for our work, she started to break off branches of a Sakura tree (cherry blossom) and handed them to us.  I was overwhelmed.  I felt like this was one of the only things left that she had.  Something sacred, something that was beautiful and complete.  And she gave them to us.  We had to beg her to stop, and everyone was in tears.  We captured a few moments with her in photograph, and left with our cherry blossoms.

Just as we were almost back to eye plaza we were stopped by a woman with a large bandage on her thumb.  She thanked us for our hard work and asked us where we were from.  When she realized I was from California she started crying.  She said that the doctor who had arrived to help her and many of her friends, were from California.  While I had no idea who this man was, it was obvious the impact he had made on this woman’s life.  I did not want her to see me cry so I thanked her and quickly moved along.  Once out of sight I made my way to the port-o-potty and lost it.  These women had lost so much but were still so gracious, so willing to hope and find joy.

I have been able to keep it together until this point, but today has changed me forever.  I know that in this moment, right now as I write this, I am in precisely the right place.  I have never been so fulfilled.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLVSdO1-JJs

Last night, we arrived to Ishinomaki, ten bus loads of volunteers strong, the scale of the relief is astounding.  We are only a small portion of the NGOs working in this area and I am told many more are still needed. This week has reached its peak for volunteers.  It is  “Golden Week” here, a yearly vacation time for Japan.  So, for many Japanese, it’s the only time of the year they can get off from work to help.

We took an overnight bus from Shinjuku, Tokyo, setting off at 9:15 p.m., traveling through the night and arriving to the campsite at 8 a.m.  Apparently, we stopped every few hours, but I slept though the entire trip.   Thank you, sleeping pills.

It feels good to finally have my boots on the ground.  It’s been a bit of a whirlwind but I’ve made it and it feels invigorating to know we will be getting to work very soon.

This morning we set up our tents at a college track field.  It was a bit strange to see students doing their morning training while we made our small homes in preparation for the week.  By 11 a.m. we were in our first meeting and by 1 p.m. we were working.  Peace boat is running this mission with the efficiency and preparation of a military operation.

Our small group consists of our team leader, Natuse, Joaquin from Spain, Richard from the UK-Australia, Martin from Guatemala and myself.  As we drove into the city from our encampment making our way to our assignment, we had our first glimpse into the scale of the devastation.  Homes and business were completely washed away.  Piles of trash, dirt, and peoples’ belongings were everywhere, filling every square inch of free space, stacked ten feet high.  Boats scattered the roads, but oddly with no sight of water.

It’s shocking and I am not sure how to feel.  The images are surreal.  Coasting by us, in a bus propelled film strip.

We made it to our meeting point in the center of the city, the place is called Eye Plaza.  From here we broke up into our teams and deployed to our work sights.  We were given our assignment and started our walk to the specific home where we would be doing our work.  The first day consisted largely of moving Tatami Mats.   These are 4 x 7 straw floor mats which are 3 to 4 inches thick.  They make up the traditional flooring of many of the homes in Japan.  They are beautiful maps of a family’s life.  Unfortunately, when they get wet they are ruined and extremely heavy, my guess is nearly 200 pounds each.  We were asked to carry approximately 30 of them 150 yards to the street for disposal.  As a group, we worked together to move these beasts to a wheel barrow to shuttle them to the road.

It has becomes clear that this is going to be a very physical week, but I only find joy in that idea.

Once we were finished the owners asked us to come into the house to help them with another project.  Entering a Japanese person’s home is very unique and very much unlike the west.  The Japanese culture tends to be more private.  They welcomed us in and asked that we assist in removing some drawers from cabinets that had swelled from the water and were stuck in their places.  I felt awful that I had to resort to using a crowbar to loosen the cabinets, but it had to be done.  When the drawers were removed, we discovered they were full of rancid black water from the floods.  It was devastating to see the trauma on the family’s faces.  Their home was slowly being reduced to ruin, remnants of what it once was.

When we were done, they thanked us profusely.  We all bowed and I left wishing that there was more that we could do.  As we walked back to Eye Plaza, it became even clearer that each house we passed had the same need, the same loss.  Each person, possessed a story, which I could not even begin to imagine.

I pray we can make some difference while we are here.

Today I also visited a museum in Roppongi Hills, called the .  I love this gallery.  It is situated on the 53^rd floor which provides spectacular views of the city.  At this point, I have been here a few times and find I love sitting at the window, soaking it all in.

Art is my drug. I always feel so energized and inspired after leaving this museum.   If you ever make it to Tokyo, don’t miss this place, you won’t regret it.