No Japanese city was more brutally ripped apart by the deadly 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami than Higashimatsushima. More than 1,000 residents died, and 11,000 structures were destroyed. How do you bounce back from that?
The warming of the ocean surely has an impact on changing growth patterns of marine plants and animals, just as the changing pH or acidity of the ocean has been shown to modify habitat and migrations. But what else?
How do we understand the impact of climate change and natural disasters on people and architecture, and how does humanity learn from our mistakes and try to prepare for potential future cataclysms?
The truth is, we weren't looking for a vacation, we were looking for an adventure. We were looking for that beautiful chaos -- the extraordinary feeling of anything can happen.
On the standard, commercial television channels we hear about extreme weather virtually every single day. Droughts in the southwest hardly seen since...
The number of children affected every year by disasters is projected to reach 175 million over the next ten years -- a figure that will have nearly tripled since the early 1990s. Children represent more than half of all people affected by disasters, and not surprisingly, the children at greatest risk are typically the poorest and hardest to reach.
Nature is desperately trying to survive and return to its original state. The animals disappeared when they lost their ecosystem, but now, after three years of struggling to rebuild it, they are starting to recover their way of life.
A culture whose existence has been based, for as long as it's been a culture, on uncertainty, impermanence and due caution about everything we don't know, is much as it's always been.
Three years ago, I was living in Tokyo during the March 11, 2011 earthquake. I was plunged into deep fear, and over the next two days I slowly crawled my way out of my panic. Today I'm remembering what I learned in the dark days after that tragic event, and remembering and honoring all those who lost family and friends.
After 200,000 years of trying to wipe us out, and getting damn close once, we finally have the upper hand. That's right. We're changing the climate. We're shaking things up (Literally. We can make our own earthquakes now).
Does elevated, uncontrolled radiation gush--as from an artery--out of Japan's maimed Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant and into the Pacific Ocean?
Japan wants to build a mile-long, 100-foot deep Ice Wall around the crippled Fukushima nuclear reactors to stop hundreds of gallons of radioactive water from leaking into the Pacific Ocean each day. What could go wrong?
Angela is sometimes described as the Lara Croft of Tohoku relief work and it's easy to see why: she's attractive, smart, and determined, the perfect person to play a key role in running one of the most active Tohoku NPOs.
It's a sunny afternoon in the town of Funakoshi, and Jamie El-Banna is bustling around giving directions to volunteers. Watching him work, you would never suspect that his British-accented English will change in a moment to fluent Japanese.
Though they are alive and well, the nuclear refugees of Fukushima face a long, slow, surreal struggle that seems to have only just begun two years after they walked away from their homes and livelihoods.
I didn't really write much about the earthquake the month after it happened because after the initial shock, I didn't know how much it would change me or my life. I've only just started getting used to buildings rumbling due to large trucks.