Received a text minutes after the news.
“Japan was hit by an earthquake.”
“Heard. He said he felt it.”
“Damn and you’re going there – more over on the 20th!”
My acquaintance was referring to the Mayan prophecy. A few of us have been making jokes about everything coming to an end on the 21st.
“I’m leaving on the 24th. So ok la. If we survive I’ll celebrate there.”
“Oh yeah haha.”
It’s been quite a while since we’ve heard of an earthquake hitting Japan at a magnitude such as yesterday.
I recall the time I touched down Narita late last year. A police officer noticed myself walking out of the arrival hall, approached and handed me a booklet — a small and colorful guide on what tourists should do, should there be an earthquake. Informative sheets for those with zero clue.
In the few instances an earthquake did happen while I was strolling in the city, I hadn’t noticed a single one – even when he’d have pointed it out.
The only time I’d felt that there was an earthquake was (ironically) the time I was unconscious. Was sleeping on the 6th floor of a hotel in Tokyo earlier this year, dreaming that I was floating on a boat that was slowly moving back and forth. The dream felt real, in fact, too real to be a dream. I woke up at once to learn that the bed was rocking, alright! Parents had already switched the TV on, wanting to understand the magnitude of what was happening.
Though I wouldn’t wish to be stranded in an earthquake ridden Tokyo, I find the experience quite fascinating.