YOU LIVE every day lives on the edge of the volcano, with the certainty of the end of the world under their feet, with the fear of shame, not death. The children exercised by the teachers, the district police officer knocks on your door to make sure that we are accepting, fire extinguisher, the distilled water, the first-aid kit and fire protection blanket, cockroaches who feel something and climb on the bed to seek the solidarity of mankind, are the norm, not the exception.
For gaijin, for foreigners living in Japan, the great earthquake with its waves of ground and then water is a monster, rises with the puff and the pajamas soaked in sweat, at the first ringing of the iron handles on the drawers the "Tansu" cabinets. For Nihonjin, for the Japanese, is the life they have chosen to live, the fate who agreed to be, being what they are.
Applies to them, to paraphrase, the formula of John F. Kennedy for undertaking lunar: "We are not Japanese because it is easy to be, but because it is difficult." Just know that anyone, rich or poor, noble born under the Mitsubishi three diamond barons peddler of sweet potatoes, miss the encounter with the earth trembles and practicing democracy of the volcano.
That there will be taxes to be paid to living in an archipelago that owes everything to the sea and the volcanoes from which it was created. The struggle against this enemy must be fought with small weapons of collective organization and preparation, not because it can never be won, but because it is the life that was given to live, like the banzai charges of the last departments in the Japanese islands encircled, assault suicide with no hope of discarded.
A matter of honor. The scenes of children of kindergartens and elementary regularly trained to crouch under their desks, to form orderly lines, even when everything around them dancing. There really is exercised because there may be protective maneuvers against a wall of water three stories high, ten meters, which moves inward at the speed of a train, but because in the practice and preparation are celebrating the rite of survival and the collective culture.
Resistance is victory, the sacrifice is the witness. "Your brother has fallen in battle, and what are you doing still alive?" wrote the mothers of soldiers and sailors in war. A week after the bombing of Hiroshima, the local radio station had resumed broadcasting. The authorities in Tokyo, who has 88 years waiting for the big jishin, superterremoto of the Kanto plain where they live a thousand and two hundred persons per square kilometer, ten times the population density of Italy, take hundreds of trucks, thousands of tons of food and rescue, ambulances, trucks, collected and hidden in large remittances bunker.
Shinjuko and skyscrapers are built on a foundation of Shibuya elastic, capable of oscillations on the top floors jump through the wall used as game balls, and they tumble even President Pertini, when he visited them and was surprised by a shock like any day experience. But it does not fall.
Any doctor, dentist, pharmacist or nurse, every hospital, every clinic has continually updated instructions for the day when the new, great Kanto earthquake will strike, as surely they will do. Their terror, almost in a city that lives below the surface of the earth above, in the infinite network of underground pipes and stations, gas stoves are the family of microristoranti roasting eel fillets, nuts, vegetables feed the flood of humanity that premature underground can buy everything, get married, take care, eat, anything but to be buried, a rite for which you must return on earth.
And 'the fire, not the collapse, the real nightmare. But even a hundred thousand deaths that the authorities are expected when Tokyo and the heart of the largest island, Honshu, will be affected as will be hit, is what can soak sweat mayors, teachers, police chiefs and authority military, when we think. 
For gaijin, for foreigners living in Japan, the great earthquake with its waves of ground and then water is a monster, rises with the puff and the pajamas soaked in sweat, at the first ringing of the iron handles on the drawers the "Tansu" cabinets. For Nihonjin, for the Japanese, is the life they have chosen to live, the fate who agreed to be, being what they are.
Applies to them, to paraphrase, the formula of John F. Kennedy for undertaking lunar: "We are not Japanese because it is easy to be, but because it is difficult." Just know that anyone, rich or poor, noble born under the Mitsubishi three diamond barons peddler of sweet potatoes, miss the encounter with the earth trembles and practicing democracy of the volcano.
That there will be taxes to be paid to living in an archipelago that owes everything to the sea and the volcanoes from which it was created. The struggle against this enemy must be fought with small weapons of collective organization and preparation, not because it can never be won, but because it is the life that was given to live, like the banzai charges of the last departments in the Japanese islands encircled, assault suicide with no hope of discarded.
A matter of honor. The scenes of children of kindergartens and elementary regularly trained to crouch under their desks, to form orderly lines, even when everything around them dancing. There really is exercised because there may be protective maneuvers against a wall of water three stories high, ten meters, which moves inward at the speed of a train, but because in the practice and preparation are celebrating the rite of survival and the collective culture.
Resistance is victory, the sacrifice is the witness. "Your brother has fallen in battle, and what are you doing still alive?" wrote the mothers of soldiers and sailors in war. A week after the bombing of Hiroshima, the local radio station had resumed broadcasting. The authorities in Tokyo, who has 88 years waiting for the big jishin, superterremoto of the Kanto plain where they live a thousand and two hundred persons per square kilometer, ten times the population density of Italy, take hundreds of trucks, thousands of tons of food and rescue, ambulances, trucks, collected and hidden in large remittances bunker.
Shinjuko and skyscrapers are built on a foundation of Shibuya elastic, capable of oscillations on the top floors jump through the wall used as game balls, and they tumble even President Pertini, when he visited them and was surprised by a shock like any day experience. But it does not fall.
Any doctor, dentist, pharmacist or nurse, every hospital, every clinic has continually updated instructions for the day when the new, great Kanto earthquake will strike, as surely they will do. Their terror, almost in a city that lives below the surface of the earth above, in the infinite network of underground pipes and stations, gas stoves are the family of microristoranti roasting eel fillets, nuts, vegetables feed the flood of humanity that premature underground can buy everything, get married, take care, eat, anything but to be buried, a rite for which you must return on earth.
And 'the fire, not the collapse, the real nightmare. But even a hundred thousand deaths that the authorities are expected when Tokyo and the heart of the largest island, Honshu, will be affected as will be hit, is what can soak sweat mayors, teachers, police chiefs and authority military, when we think.
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