(More) Kit Kats in Japan

I came, I saw, I bought Kit Kats.

As I have mentioned before, I like to collect Kit Kats from different regions in Japan. It started out innocently, but has sort of developed into an obsessive and nerdy hobby. I'm not even living in Japan at the moment, but I still occasionally check the Nestle Japan website for Kit Kat updates. FYI, there's a new thing where you can order custom-made Kit Kat packaging, complete with your own photo and message. How bloody cool is that? I'll have my face on a Kit Kat wrapper, thanks.

On my recent visit, I was able to tick off several items on my Kit Kat bucket list. First, I came across the special edition Tohoku region Kit Kat in a souvenir shop at Aizu Tajima station in Fukushima. This was a Zunda-fumi, or Edamame Soybean flavoured Kit Kat. It was created by Nestle to support Tohoku after the earthquake, and 10 yen of each chocolate bar sold went to the relief fund.

A few days later we were riding the Tokaido Shinkansen line to get to Nagoya. At Nagoya Station, I picked up a cool box of Kit Kats designed to represent the four major stations on the Tokaido line: Shin-Osaka, Tokyo, Kyoto and Nagoya. Each individual chocolate bar even has a little picture of the different types of bullet trains! Although the flavour of this variety is a simple milk chocolate, I like to imagine people buying these so they can eat a Kit Kat at each stop on the line. At least, that's what I would do.

To my immense excitement, in a souvenir store at a shopping mall in Odaiba, Tokyo, was a whole stand of Kit Kats. Although I had found many notorious flavours on my last trip to Japan, there was one that I had missed out on - the crowning glory of Japanese Kit Kats: Wasabi. And it was here. The Shizuoka-Kanto regional edition, Tamaruya-Honten Wasabi. I laughed like a maniac and purchased it immediately, knowing it was destined for some poor, unsuspecting victim's Christmas stocking.

All too soon, the trip came to an end, and I found myself at Narita Airport, with 800 yen to my name. In what is becoming a slightly embarrassing tradition on each of my Japan trips, I ended up spending my very last yen on a box of Tokyo Rum and Raisin flavoured Kit Kats. Because I'm classy like that.

Aizu-wakamatsu: Tsuruga Castle and Aizu Sake Museum

As simple as it sounds, one of the most important parts of our stay in Fukushima was to spend time enjoying the region from a tourist's perspective. Since the nuclear disaster, tourism has been slow to recover - both domestic and foreign tourists have been hesitant to spend time in the region. The uncertainty has snowballed into harmful rumours and hearsay. Even on the flight over to Japan, when we told the flight attendants that we were going to Fukushima, they warned us not to eat the rice or drink the water.

We spent a day checking out the sights in Aizu-wakamatsu, a city with a rich samurai history. To learn about the wars and warriors of the past, we visited Tsuruga Castle, one of the most famous tourist attractions in Tohoku. The castle that stands today is actually a reconstruction - the original castle was damaged by an earthquake in 1611, then destroyed by the Meiji government after incessant warfare in 1868. It was completely rebuilt in 1965, and now contains a museum detailing the history of the Aizu region.

Tsuruga Castle: a treasure of the Aizu region

View from the top of the castle grounds, covered in snow

View of Aizu-wakamatsu city, tucked beneath the hills

A 'samurai' at the castle. He let me try on his hat.

Another important part of Aizu's history is its long tradition of rice wine or sake brewing - the cold climate, pure spring water and rice are ideal for sake production. In Aizu-wakamatsu there are numerous local sake breweries, and we were able to visit the Miyaizumi brewery, which also contains a museum - the Aizu Sake Museum. Our tour guide was a jolly man who taught us drinking games and sang the praises of the sake, advising us to sample everything but to try not to get drunk! He also told us about the Miyaizumi brewery's struggles after the disaster - people had been warned not to eat or drink anything within a 100km zone of the condemned nuclear plant; unfortunately the brewery is located 97.8km away. Almost all of the brewery's orders were cancelled in the year following the disaster, however, they remain hopeful for this season's brew.

Students entering the Aizu Sake Museum

With my Australian friend Emilee: sampling the sake!

The brewery's spring water tap

Sake production is done in the Winter, as cold temperatures are necessary for best results

If you're thinking about going to Japan, put Fukushima on your itinerary. Places like Aizu-wakamatsu are unique hotspots of Japan's natural beauty, history and culture. If you've already been to Japan's larger, more well-known cities, Fukushima's cities and towns can offer a completely different experience, and one that I found enriching. By spending money on accommodation, tourist attractions, and souvenirs in Fukushima, you can make a small but significant contribution to the local economy, which so desperately needs boosting. More than anything, visiting Fukushima as a tourist helps to give the people hope, that someday the region might be able to return back to the way it was before the disaster.

Story of a Fukushima Evacuee

In Aizuwakamatsu city a speaker from Tomioka town described her experience following the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant disaster. Yoshiko Aoki was the principal of Tomioka High School. As the town is located within a 20km radius of the nuclear plant, all residents were evacuated. They will most likely never return. This is an excerpt from her talk, taken from my notes.

Tomioka town in the Futaba district of Fukushima had a population of 15,839. It was a small town, but famous for having some of the most beautiful cherry blossoms in Japan. Every year Spring was celebrated with the Yonomori Sakura festival. The cherry blossoms trees were lit up on the nights of the festival, and there was a free market, yosakoi dancing and karaoke contests. Volunteers worked hard to plant new cherry blossom trees each year, ensuring that the festival could be enjoyed for generations to come.

Cherry blossom picture from Tomioka Town website (here)

On March 11, 2011 Tomioka town was hit by a shindo 7 earthquake and 22 metre high tsunami. It took the lives of 109 residents.

The next day, all remaining residents were ordered to evacuate. We didn't understand why - not all houses were badly damaged. We had survived the earthquake and tsunami, why did we have to leave now?

The reason was that less than 20km away, the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant had exploded - but no one was told this at the time.

People didn't know what to bring, or how long they would be gone, so many didn't bring anything with them. There was only one route to evacuate from, as a main highway was damaged. The only place to go was a nearby village, Kawauchi. Usually it would take 20 minutes to get there; following the disaster it took 8 hours. The Tomioka evacuees were supported by the village for a little while, but soon Kawauchi was also told that its residents must evacuate.

After that 3000 people went to the Big Palette convention centre in Koriyama, Fukushima, which had been turned into an evacuation centre. Upon arrival, residents underwent a screening inspection for radiation.

Initially evacuees had nothing but cardboard boxes to protect their privacy. Messages were written on bulletin boards, for families who had been separated in the confusion of the evacuation. Emergency plans were put in place, in case there were more aftershocks.

When it became clear that we would be staying there for a while, we did things to improve life in the evacuation centre. A 'women only' space was planned for privacy. People set up an FM radio station, to communicate the latest information. Residents could watch the broadcasts taking place in front of them, and this became a sort of social gathering.

The most difficult part was that there were no prospects, no jobs - everyday was just eating and sleeping. It was often stressful and irritating sharing the same space with 3,000 people. Of course, flu and infections spread easily - but these could be treated by a doctor. It was the mental diseases that were not so easily treated.

Residents created a 'help each other' centre. Students volunteered to give foot baths and massages, and lent an ear to those who wanted to talk. As people began to talk more, faces began to brighten.

By August 2011, the evacuation centre had closed. Evacuees were now scattered all over Fukushima, and even Japan. The community that was once so strong had been destroyed, giving rise to a new challenge - how to reconnect the Tomioka town residents?

The solution was relatively simple. We created a phonebook, tracking down and listing the present addresses and numbers of Tomioka residents throughout Japan.

With the future so uncertain, it has been important to create something for the people to live for - something to encourage them to live for tomorrow.

What happened in Fukushima during the disaster was different to other areas in Tohoku who only experienced the earthquake and tsunami. In Fukushima, we had been told the nuclear plants were safe. We felt shocked and betrayed. A natural disaster you can forget, but the nuclear disaster was a human error.

Despite this, it is necessary to remember we may be the victims of a disaster, but we are also the heroes and heroines of the reconstruction. I want people to love Fukushima.

A year after the diaster, visitors in radiation proof suits admire the cherry blossoms in Tomioka (source)

Temporary Housing for Disaster Victims in Aizu-wakamatsu

After the nuclear disaster, the city of Aizu-wakamatsu in Fukushima became home to thousands of evacuees from Okuma town, the location of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant. All 11,515 residents had to be hastily evacuated, eventually placed in temporary housing complexes. These temporary housing complexes are an example of lessons learned from the 1995 Great Hanshin Earthquake: after this disaster many elderly people were left isolated and alone, and died as a result. To avoid this situation happening again, this time whole communities of temporary housing have been set up around Japan, in an effort to keep both the people and the spirit of their former towns alive.

As Okuma was a farming town, a sense of community is particularly important for its residents. A representative of the town spoke to us about what happened on that day in March 2011. Most of the town were in the process of preparing the rice paddies for spring. When the earthquake hit, it caused the paddies to move 'like a wave'. The residents gathered at the local shrine, and were told by firefighters that a nuclear plant explosion had occurred, and they would need to evacuate immediately. They were taken by buses to evacuation centres such as schools and hotels, where they would stay for the next few months. By July 2011, the temporary housing complex at Aizu-wakamatsu was ready - a block of 80 houses, to hold about 170 people.

The accommodation is far from ideal. Standing in austere rows, each unit is identical. People's whole lives have been reduced to a number in a housing block - A3, C1. Small attempts to personalize each unit are visible; some pot plants outside doors, a hanging flower basket. Particularly poignant is the mural of hearts that has been painted on the wall surrounding the complex, in an attempt to brighten the place up.

It is a new environment for the people. The Aizu climate is harsh, and Okuma residents, who used to live on the coast, have to contend with the heavy snow. Work is difficult to find. The majority of those of a working age commute long distances, spending the weeknights in their town of employment, returning to the temporary housing complex for the weekends. It is a disruptive lifestyle, transient and uncertain. While 'safe zones' in Okuma are being uncovered, it will be at least a decade before the majority of residents can return; maybe longer until the soil is decontaminated and able to be farmed again. For many residents, they will never return home in their lifetime.

On the day we visited the Aizu-wakamatsu temporary housing complex, residents were involved in a meeting with TEPCO, undergoing negotiations about their current situation and compensation. Currently, they receive ¥100,000 a month (NZD1372) from the government for psychological damage. Considering all these residents have lost, it is a small price for the government to pay. The fight for their future will surely continue for years to come.