2. Problem beim Wiederaufbau – Sozialer Wohnungsbau

In Rikuzentakata ist ein Gebäudekomplex bestehend aus 3 acht – und drei 9 geschossigen Apartmenthäusern mit 301 Sozialwohnungen. Wahrscheinlich werden davon 206 bezogen, ca. 25% werden allein lebende ältere Personen sein. 95 Wohnungen werden leerstehen. Die Vereinsamung ist vorprogrammiert.
Ein weiteres Problem ist, dass die Feuerwehr bisher nur Leitern für 15 Meter

hohe Gebäude besitzt (5 stöckige Gebäude). Diese Gebäude sind doppelt so hoch. Die Leitern müssen beschafft werden und die Feuerwehr muss geschult werden.

岩手

<災害公営住宅>コミュニティーづくり模索

2016年08月01日 月曜日
岩手県内最大の災害公営住宅「県営栃ケ沢アパート」

 岩手県陸前高田市で1日、県内最大の災害公営住宅「県営栃ケ沢アパート」の入居が始まる。9階建てと8階建ての2棟で、市全体の3割以上を占める計301戸を整備した。だが、持ち家が中心の市民に高層集合住宅はなじみが薄く、新たなコミュニティーづくりや防災対策が課題となっている。
アパートは高台の市役所仮庁舎近くに立地する。県大船渡土木センターによると、現段階の入居見込みは206世帯。このうち、1人暮らしの高齢者は24.8%に及ぶ。加えて入居者は市内各地から集まるとみられる。
高齢者らの相談に応じる陸前高田市地域包括支援センターの担当者は「都市型の住まいに慣れていたはずの神戸市でも、阪神大震災後に孤独死が出た。嫌になってストレスをためたり引きこもったりしないか」と心配する。
県営のため、住民サービスを担う市に入居者の詳しい情報が入らず、ケアの支障になりかねない。
県は市などと協議し、同意を得た入居世帯全員の氏名と性別、年齢の個人情報を、市や市社協、民生委員に提供することを決めた。
管理人や行政区長、班長の選任、自治会設立、入居者間交流といった課題にも連携して対応する。県大船渡地域振興センター復興推進課の米内敏明課長は「規模が大きく、コミュニティーづくりに危機感を持っている。住民の合意形成を大切に進めたい」と話す。
防災面でも懸念材料がある。東日本大震災前に中高層建物が少なかった市には消防のはしご車がない。栃ケ沢アパートをはじめ、7階以上の災害公営住宅が相次いで建ち、高さ15メートル以上の建物は9棟に増えた。
はしご車の整備については消防庁の指針でおおむね10棟を目安としているが、維持管理を含めた財源や職員態勢の問題もある。
市消防本部によると、災害公営住宅の部屋壁は鉄筋で隣室の延焼を防げるといい、玄関側とベランダ側からそれぞれ水平方向に避難しやすい構造になっている。同本部の担当者は「はしご車がなくても消防隊が支障なく上階に向かえる」と説明。今後は防火講習会を開き、入居者の不安解消に努める。

http://sp.kahoku.co.jp/tohokunews/201608/20160801_33005.html

Otsuchi, Return of a Perilous Beauty

 No1-2016-03Otsuchi

A March 2015 view of the progress of the incremental landfill operations in centrol Otsuchi that began in 2013 after debris-clearing. To the left is the district of Ando, with its fishing jetty protruding into the harbor; across the Kozuchi River to the right is Nobematsu, now connected by a temporary span that replaced the original bridge and its six-meter high floodgates.
A tsunami-battered town tries to get back on its feet: struggle, conflict, bureaucracy and, yes, hope.

 

by Charles Pomeroy

Not all has gone smoothly in the town of Otsuchi as it struggles to recover from the tsunami devastation wreaked upon it five years ago. (See my story, “The Perilous Beauty of Otsuchi,” in the April, 2011 edition of No. 1 Shimbun.) For starters, the loss of its mayor, Koki Kato, together with key department heads and the more than 30 experienced staff that made up a quarter of the town’s civil servants meant that there was no one to immediately get to work on a master plan for recovery. It wasn’t until January 2012 that a draft was finally completed, under a new mayor, Yutaka Ikarigawa.

Mayor Ikarigawa was faced with a number of tough issues, from organizing housing for survivors to sorting out land problems for the dead and missing. And over the next several years some progress was made, including a partial revival of the fisheries industry and construction of new residences to replace the temporary structures housing survivors.

But two key projects in the master plan led to discontent, as the long-range view of those who had forged the plan clashed with the more immediate desires of the survivors. One was a plan to raise the ground level in central Otsuchi by 2.5 meters; the other, to build a huge seawall 14.5 meters high.

After months of uncertainty, many displaced townspeople could not wait another six years and departed for other locales.

The plan to raise the ground level, intended as a safeguard against smaller tsunami and future rises in the sea level, will bring it up to the level of the entry road from National Highway 45 and the new town offices, formerly the burned-out elementary school. It is a six-year project, started in 2012 with debris clearing, followed by incremental landfill scheduled through 2016, and finally ending with a year of waiting for it all to settle before rebuilding can begin in 2018. But after months of uncertainty following the tsunami, many displaced townspeople could not wait another six years and departed for other locales.

THE PLAN TO BUILD the huge seawall – favored by Tokyo bureaucrats, but with the responsibility in the hands of the prefecture – has yet to get underway. Strong doubts have been expressed about its usefulness in protecting the town against future, perhaps even larger, tsunami. Critics also say that any concrete structure of this kind will deteriorate and require replacement in 50 years, which will mean another huge outlay of tax money. They prefer an enhanced system of tsunami alerts and evacuation routes, which are already included in the master plan for central Otsuchi.

In particular, opposition was voiced by the fisheries folk in Akahama, which is also home to Tokyo University’s International Coastal Research Center (ICRC). Akahama also has a walkway to Horaijima, an islet known to most Japanese from a popular 1960s NHK puppet program Hyokkori Hyotan-jima that featured a popular theme song. Many of its residents were lost in the 2011 tsunami, opponents said, because the earlier seawall at 6.5 meters had blocked their view of the “drawback” – receding water from the harbor that preceded the onslaught – that would have alerted them to seek higher ground. In their opinion, a seawall 14.5 meters high would just make such future situations even worse.

Opponents had their point made for them with the release in April, 2015, of a documentary by director Haruko Konishi, titled Akahama Rock’n Roll. The film makes a strong case for the more traditional fishery environment rather than a high seawall. Even Akie Abe, the prime minister’s wife, expressed sympathy for the opponents’ cause at a UN Disaster Prevention Conference in Sendai last year, according to newspaper reports.

After losing almost 10 percent of its 15,239 citizens to the tsunami (one of the largest losses among the affected towns), Otsuchi’s population continues to drop. In fact, it had fallen by 23.2 percent by the end of 2015, according to a report in Asahi Shimbun. This is far and away the largest decrease among the coastal communities affected by the tsunami, with the next highest being Rikuzentakata at 15.2 percent. The reasons were various. Some former residents who had evacuated to inland towns just opted not to return to the gutted community. But the biggest hit came from the post-tsunami exodus of younger people looking for work or schooling elsewhere.
Today, Otsuchi has become a town occupied mostly by retirees and transient workers.

Aside from cleanup and landfill work and rebuilding, long-term jobs that can help persuade locals to stay are in short supply to this day. Although the partially recovered fishery industry continues to offer opportunities, these jobs seem to offer little appeal for the younger generation. And though MAST – Otsuchi’s major shopping center that attracted many residents of surrounding communities – reopened in December 2011, its consumer base began eroding after 2013 as a result of increasing competition from shopping centers in nearby towns, especially the Aeon shopping center in nearby Kamaishi.

Driving home the reality of a shrinking population was the merger of three elementary schools in April 2013. Today, Otsuchi has become a town occupied mostly by retirees and transient workers.

TO ENCOURAGE REBUILDING IN Otsuchi, government subsidies totaling ¥5 million are on offer to qualifying families. But no rebuilding can take place in the town center until 2018, and those who want to build in other areas face escalating construction costs. That is assuming, of course, that a construction company can be found, for even local governments are having difficulty in obtaining bids for their projects. Costs have been rising not only from demand in the stricken areas of Sanriku, but also from the general upgrading of the national infrastructure by the Abe administration, a situation further aggravated by the decision to hold the 2020 Summer Olympics in Tokyo.

These developments have fed growing cynicism among survivors all along the Sanriku coast. Many sense they are being abandoned, or at least having their futures downgraded in favor of other government projects. These feelings have only increased following the decision to hold the Olympics. And when the central government recently announced an end to the intensive five-year phase of Tohoku reconstruction and a reduction in such funds for the next five-year phase from fiscal 2016, this only added to their pessimism.

Despite these negatives, one of our family members, a brother-in-law in his mid-60s who spent most of his adult life in Tokyo, returned to Otsuchi after retiring in 2015. He now works part time to supplement his retirement income while looking for new opportunities in his hometown. So far he has found none.

Many sense they are being abandoned, or at least having their futures downgraded in favor of other government projects.

Still, all is not lost, and perhaps the long-range planning of Ikarigawa’s experts, representing central and prefectural governments as well as academia and knowledgeable locals, will see a new dawning in Otsuchi. But he won’t be in a position to lead it. Difficulties with his master plan’s implementation eventually led to his defeat in the August 2015 election. His victorious opponent, Kozo Hirano, ran on a platform calling for a review of the planned reconstruction projects.

In addition to the slow but ongoing recovery of the fisheries, positive signs include the revival of the old railway line by Sanriku Railways in 2021 and the completion of the new Sanriku coastal expressway in 2022. Both will make Otsuchi more accessible for commerce and tourism as well as much easier to live in, especially for students who had pleaded for a return of the railway to enable commuting to schools in other towns. This should also increase the town’s attraction for families with school-age children.

OUR HOME WAS AMONG the 3,359 in Otsuchi destroyed by the tsunami. My wife Atsuko and I plan to begin rebuilding in 2018 on our small parcel of land at the southern edge of the central district, which will allow us to continue our retirement that began there in 2004. It will again put us within a five-minute walk of the family gravesite at Dainenji, and give us easy access to that mountain’s scenic hiking trail.

Sadly, we will no longer be joined on these hikes by our favorite companion, Atsuko’s elder sister, Noriko, who had lived nearby. She and her husband, Yuji, were both lost to the tsunami. Her remains were not identified until August of 2011 and his were never found. The addition of her ashes to the family gravesite has made our visits for the annual Obon Buddhist observances even more poignant.

Half of our neighbors were also lost to the tsunami and, apparently, none among the surviving families will return. So we will start afresh with new neighbors, but bedrock support from Atsuko’s brother and other relatives as well as friends dating back to her childhood.

No1-2016-03Pommag
The author’s feature on Otsuchi in the April 2011 earthquake special.

And with any luck, some of our favorite local shops will restart their businesses. In particular, I would like to see the reappearance of Akabu Sakaya, which made it a point to keep my favorite gin and vermouth in stock. ❶

Charles Pomeroy retired from journalism 12 years ago. He is the author of Tsunami Reflections—Otsuchi Remembered.

http://www.fccj.or.jp/number-1-shimbun/item/757-return-of-a-perilous-beauty.html

検証変貌するまち>読めぬ集客 出店迷う

左手の山裾に建つ災害公営住宅前のかさ上げ地が新たな市街地になる=2月10日、陸前高田市

◎(上)未来図への不安

東日本大震災の津波で壊滅した陸前高田市中心部の高田地区に、海抜12メートルにかさ上げされた約100ヘクタールの大地が誕生する。
ことし市街地区域で商業施設の集積が始まるが、住宅の整備はまだ数年かかる。新しい街にどれだけの住民が戻るのか。予測ははっきりせず、商業者は出店すべきか悩む。
先行する26ヘクタールの新市街地で今夏、大型商業施設が着工する。周辺に商店街、さらに周縁には住宅地。公共施設やJR大船渡線バス高速輸送システム(BRT)の陸前高田駅を設ける。市が描く未来図だ。

<投資見合わず>
市が貸す商店街用地の地代は被災事業者なら1平方メートル当たり年311~340円と格安だ。仮設店舗の集積を狙うが、1月末に締め切った借地申請は29事業所にとどまった。
地元商工会が2014年に実施した調査で、中心市街地での再開希望は118事業者に上っていた。市商工観光課は「スタート時としては想定内の数字」と受け止めるが、先行きは見えない。
仮設商店街でカフェを営む太田明成さん(49)は大型店へのテナント入居を考えた。だが家賃と共益費が震災前の倍となる月20万円と分かり、諦めた。
新店舗建設の見積もりでは自己負担が1500万円を超えた。「月の売り上げを30万円増やさないといけないが、投資に見合うだけの集客があるのか。借金を返すための出店にならないか」。自問を繰り返す。
仮設を限りに廃業を決めた人もいる。布団店経営の菅野幾夫さん(66)は「年も年だし、後継者もいない。潮時だ」と創業140年の老舗を畳むつもりだ。
高田地区の土地区画整理事業の計画戸数は震災前と同規模の1560。対照的に市が15年6月、仮設住民を対象にした住宅再建意向調査で、地区内の高台やかさ上げ地を希望したのは230世帯(15年9月集計)にとどまる。しかも家を建てられるのは17年度以降だ。
既に地区内の災害公営住宅に住む人は調査対象に入っていない。実際の居住世帯はこれより増えるとみられるが、市も実数をつかみきれていない。

<生活の場分散>
数年間は近隣住民がほとんどいない。地域経済を支える復興作業員は減っていく。病院や学校は高台に移り、生活の場が分散する。市街地には買い物や飲食の機能しかない。そんな街の姿が出店意欲を鈍らせる。
「またシャッター街をつくるのか、と言う人もいる。でも、誰かに設けてもらった街で愚痴を言いながら商売したいか。考えに考え、自分たちの手で魅力ある街を実現しよう」
地元商工会の中心市街地企画委員長の磐井正篤さん(59)は勉強会の度にげきを飛ばす。商店街に和雑貨店を出すが、もちろん不安だ。
「人工的に街を築く壮大な実験。でも、身の丈より少し背伸びした街にしたい」。今は笑って前へ歩くしかないと覚悟を呼び掛ける。(太楽裕克)

津波被害を防ぐため、まちが変わる。巨大事業が進む中、被災者は暮らしや日々の営みで厳しい選択を迫られた。復興まちづくりで生じた課題を追う。
2面に関連記事、

http://www.kahoku.co.jp/tohokunews/201603/20160306_33006.html

Kinder in Tohoku, fast 5 Jahre nach dem Tsunami

Wie geht es den Kindern in den zerstörten Gebieten? Haben sie die Erinnerungen an den Tsunami und den Verlust von nahe stehenden Verwandten und Freunden verarbeitet? Wie verläuft der Alltag in den vorübergehenden Gebäuden der Ersatzschule und das Leben im Container. Es gibt keinen Platz, in Ruhe Schularbeiten zu machen.

【東北の子ども達へ、あなたができること】
津波で家を流され、学ぶ場を失った子ども達が、被災地には残されています。
東北の子ども達のために、一人ひとりができること、考えてみませんか?

被災地負担、反対相次ぐ 復興相、首長らと会談 復興予算

2015年4月12日05時00分

 東日本大震災復興予算をめぐり、竹下亘復興相は11日、被災した岩手県市町村長らと会談した。2016年度以降は被災地側の一部負担を検討する考えを伝えたが、自治体側からは反対意見が相次いだ。復興相は近く宮城、福島両県も訪れるが、復興予算の枠組みが固まる6月までせめぎ合いが続きそうだ。

岩手県釜石市ログイン前の続きで開かれた会合には、竹下復興相や小泉進次郎復興政務官らが出席し、被災地からは野田武則・釜石市長ら13市町村の首長らが参加した。

冒頭、竹下復興相は「復興の基幹事業は引き続き国費で対応していく」とあいさつ。その後、約2時間の会談は非公開だった。終了後、野田市長は「(国から)一部地方負担を検討しなければならないという発言もあった」と明らかにした。復興予算を国が全額負担する集中復興期間を今年度で終え、16年度以降は復興予算の枠組みを見直す考えを示されたという。

岩手県幹部によると、竹下復興相は「復興に使うお金は、国民からいただいた税金ということをおさえていただかなければ」と語ったという。

被災地側は、復興予算の地元負担に反対する姿勢を示した。大槌町の大水敏弘副町長は「市町村ごとに被害と復興の度合いが違う。資材や作業員の確保が難しい事情もくんでほしい」と訴えたという。

町では市街地のかさ上げ工事が始まったばかり。会談後、大水副町長は「町は重傷を負ってリハビリ中の段階。人口1万人の町が政令指定市並みの額の大事業を進めており、国に支援してほしい」と述べた。

戸羽太・陸前高田市長も「財政や復興状況をみて議論してもらわないと困る」と話した。市は今年度、市街地かさ上げと高台造成工事に約300億円を充てる。震災前の予算の2・7倍の規模だ。「社会教育施設や市役所も建てないといけない」とも語った。

市町村が懸念するのは厳しい財政状況だ。財政力指数は、震災前の10年度でも大槌町が0・31、陸前高田市が0・27と、全国平均の0・53を下回っていた。

会談では被災地側で負担する具体的な内容について説明がなかったという。終了後、竹下復興相は報道陣に「地方負担について共通の認識はできた」と話した。岩手県の中村一郎復興局長は「被災自治体は、自分の財布が痛まないから何でも国にやってもらったらいいという思いでは決してない」と語った。

(竹山栄太郎、斎藤徹、田渕紫織)

http://digital.asahi.com/articles/DA3S11700665.html?rm=150

Fighting to recover from the ocean’s wrath

BY

SPECIAL TO THE JAPAN TIMES

On April 11, Wataru Takeshita, the minister for reconstruction of the areas most seriously affected by the Great East Japan Earthquake, met in Kamaishi with local government representatives to discuss the budget for Iwate Prefecture. After the meeting, the mayor of Kamaishi spoke to the press and said Takeshita told them the central government would continue paying for reconstruction work through next year, but after that he expected the prefecture and municipalities to cover part of the burden themselves.

“Please understand that the money we spend on reconstruction is from taxes levied on people nationwide,” Takeshita reportedly said during the meeting, which was closed to the media.

According to an article in the Asahi Shimbun, the local governments in attendance rejected the minister’s remarks, mainly because he neglected to go into detail about how much of a burden he was talking about and what sorts of things they would be paying for. The mayor of the city of Rikuzentakata seemed offended by the government attitude.

“They must discuss our financial situation and the reconstruction process,” he told an Asahi reporter. “Otherwise, we can’t envision a future for ourselves.”

Rikuzentakata is currently spending ¥30 billion to elevate levees and prepare higher ground for new residential housing, an amount equivalent to 2.7 times its whole annual budget. “And we still have to build schools and a new city hall,” he added.

Takeshita seemed oblivious to the resistance. He told reporters that he and the local governments “came to a common understanding” regarding division of reconstruction costs. A prefectural representative tried to point out that the municipalities weren’t saying “the central government should pay for everything and we pay nothing,” only that there had been no substantive discussion about what would happen after the current reconstruction budget expired in 2016.

As the Asahi presented the story, it read like a classic instance of official condescension, but the situation is more complicated. The report implies that the local governments formed a united front, but as the vice mayor of the town of Otsuchi said, the degree of damage suffered and the amount of reconstruction required differs from one place to another. By treating all the local governments the same way, the agency effectively demonstrates a lack of imagination and coordination, while the media gives the impression that money is the only issue.

Otsuchi, in fact, is the subject of a new documentary by Haruko Konishicalled “Akahama Rock’n Roll.” Akahama is the district closest to the sea and the one that contains the town’s fishing industry. One-10th of Akahama’s residents died in the 2011 tsunami or remain missing. The central subject of the film is the surviving residents’ objections to the central government’s plan to build a 14.5-meter-high seawall along the edge of the community. The rest of the town approved the seawall, or, at least, didn’t object to it.

The budget for construction was set in January 2012, when the town’s residents were still in shock from the disaster and hadn’t had time to think over the plans carefully. Since then, the people of Akahama decided that a better idea would be to move homes in the district to higher ground. The seawall, they contend, causes more problems than it solves. The tsunami, after all, was 22 meters high, so 14.5 meters may not do any good, but in any case, the fishermen of Akahama need to have constant visual contact with the ocean, and not just for the sake of their livelihoods. One reason so many people died in the tsunami was that they didn’t see it coming, since there was already a seawall blocking their line of sight, and that one was only 6.5 meters high.

Akahama is too small to attract the interest of the mass media, but Konishi managed to enlist one powerful supporter: Akie Abe, the wife of Prime Minister Shinzo Abe. At the U.N. Disaster Prevention Conference in Sendai in March, she raised the matter of the seawall during an awards ceremony, saying that if you have to destroy the environment in order to safeguard a community from the forces of nature, then something is wrong. Since then, the movie and Akahama have been featured in a number of newspaper articles.

Konishi divides her footage between two principals: Tsutomu Abe (no relation to the prime minister), a fisherman who went back to work a few days after the tsunami, even though it killed his father, and Hiromi Kawaguchi, chairman of the Akahama Reconstruction Committee, who spearheads the local resistance to the seawall. This dual narrative approach toggles between the political aspects of the issue and the less concrete cultural ones.

Abe the fisherman represents the community’s soul, a man whose close relationship with the sea is primal. The tsunami was a tragedy, but, as he says over and over, you can’t fight nature.

“As long as our lives are connected to the ocean,” his mother says, “we have to be here.” And what’s the point of being here if you can’t see the water? When your life is dependent on the sea, you make peace with it as best you can.

People, however, are another matter, and it’s Kawaguchi’s job to fight the powers that try to tell him and those he represents what is best for them. Once the bureaucracy has a notion in its head, it’s difficult to change, and his fellow committee members, worn down by the subtle but relentless force of authority, seem willing to compromise, but Kawaguchi isn’t.

“Life comes from the sea,” he says. “And keeping the sea separate from us destroys life.”

If Konishi’s purpose is to show how a community’s desires should not be discounted even if those desires place it at risk, her movie acutely points out how specific needs can’t be summarily dismissed by logic or taken care of by charity.

“I’m not interested in people’s sympathy,” says Abe as he shucks oysters. “I just want to sell my products.”

Buchbesprechung „Rikuzentakata 2011-2014“ Naoya Hatakeyama

(書評)『陸前高田 2011―2014』 畠山直哉〈著〉

2015年7月5日05時00分

 ◇受容の意志の厳かさ、美しさ

「僕には、自分の記憶を助けるために写真を撮るという習慣がない」。かつて畠山直哉はこのように書いた。写真を撮ることは自分の住む世界をよりよく知ることと同義だった。だが東日本大震災で故郷の陸前高田の風景を喪失すると、この考えは変容を余儀なくされる。故郷にレンズを向け記憶との対話が始まる。

震災前後を収めた『気仙川』に続く本書では、町が再建されるさまがとらえられている。まずは瓦礫(がれき)が撤去されなくてはならない。機械による破壊とはまったく異なる姿を晒(さら)す何百台もの押しつぶされたクルマ。波が瓦礫を持ち上げ鉄骨に引っ掛けて去った後の体育館天井の凄(すさ)まじさ。白砂の浜に林立する松の木の根っこも人間の手が造り出せない猛々(たけだけ)しい形状だ。これら破壊された事物の姿を、彼は厳粛なまでに「津波」の目になって撮っていく。

後半を占めているのは町が再建される様子だ。嵩(かさ)上げされた土地、土を運ぶために巡らされたベルトコンベア、それが川をまたぐためのつり橋、防潮用の鉄板の列。これら人間の技術力を証する、目を引きつけてやまない造形美が、考え抜かれたアングルと色彩で抽出される。そして最後のページに来て気づくのだ。ここに写っている風景は町が完成した暁には消えてなくなるということに。しかもその町が再び津波に呑(の)み込まれないという保証は、どこにもないということに。

写真はどれも非常に美しく、そう感じていいのだろうかと戸惑う人もいるかもしれない。だが、本書は長大な自然史的時間と個人の時間が交差する地点に立たされた人間の報告なのだ。自然の力にもそれに負けまいとする人間の営みにも等価な視線を注いで歩こうとする者の。写真集に流れる美しさの本質は、その受容の意志の厳かさだ。批評ではなく問うことの大切さを伝える。巻末のエッセイが素晴らしい。

評・大竹昭子(作家)

河出書房新社・4212円/はたけやま・なおや 58年、岩手県陸前高田市生まれ。97年、木村伊兵衛写真賞

Ihre Freude ist unsere Freude

Konzert „Ihre Freude ist meine Freude“

Konsul Yasushi Fukagawa lud am Sonntag 15. März 2015 aus Anlass des vierten Jahrestages der gigantischen Naturkatastrophe im Nordosten Japans vom 11. März 2011 eine Vielzahl von Institutionen und Privatpersonen ein, die sich auf verschiedenste Art und Weise für die betroffenen Regionen eingesetzt hatten und mit großem Engagement japanische Landsleute in der schweren Zeit unterstützten.

Ein Bericht über die Veranstaltung mit einer Kurzfassung des Berichtes von

Frau Gesa Neuert zu Spendenprojekten in Tohoku finden Sie hier:

Ihre Freude ist unsere Freude

Untitled 26

Untitled 13Untitled 12

Interview mit dem Bürgermeister von Otsuchi: Ikarigawa-san

岩手県上閉伊郡大槌町長 碇川豊さん

地震と津波の大きな被害を受けた岩手県上閉伊郡大槌町の町長をしていらっしゃる碇川豊町長にインタビューをしてきました。町長の復興への熱い想いを語っていただきました。2015.03.09

IMGP0215

Interview for 3.11 vol.3岩手県上閉伊郡大槌町の現町長、碇川豊さん。2011年に東日本大震災が起こったのち、8月に大槌町長となり現在に至る。著書に『希望の大槌 逆境から発想する町』(2013年3月 明石書店)がある。

町長としての4年間

―本日はよろしくお願いします。早速ですが、まず震災当時の大槌町の状況についてお聞かせください。

東日本大震災の直後は、まさに空襲を受けた焼け野原のような景色が広がっていました。
その中で、ゼロからまちづくりをして行くというのは、想像するのも大変な状況でした。本当にこのような状況から復興できるかどうか、不安に感じていた部分も大きかったです。でも、やっていかなきゃならないことがある。絶望の淵におとされたような、再び立ち上がることさえも難しい状況でした。人口の約1割にものぼる多くの住民が亡くなり、復興の担い手である職員も大勢亡くなりました。。
いま思うとあの状況の中で町長になろうと思ったこと自体が、無謀までとはいかないけれども、大きな決断をしたなと思います。

―「町長になろうと思った」とおっしゃいましたが、あの災害から5か月後に、碇川さんは町長選挙に立候補されています。震災後、大きなプレッシャーを受けることが予想される中で、立候補を後押ししたものは何だったのでしょうか?

私は町長になるための選挙が行われるまでの数か月間、いかにして復興を遂げるか悶々として考えていました。その中で、「この復興は行政が一方的に押し付けてはだめだ」と気づきました。「住民主体のまちづくりをしていかないと、この町は無くなるぞ」という思いでした。明治29年、昭和8年、昭和35年、そして今回。明治29年、昭和8年、昭和35年、そして今回。この4回の大震災津波を踏まえて、そこに住んでいた人、またこれから住み続ける地域の人たち自身が、復興を考えることが一番重要だろうと思ったのです。
したがって私は町長に就任してすぐ、『住民主体のまちづくり条例』を議会に提案し、可決したことの趣旨通りに復興を始めました。まずは、復興協議会というものを地域ごとに計10個立ち上げて、震災後の10月に全体会を開きました。そこで「地域ごとの復興計画をできるだけ早めに作ってください」とお願いしました。
震災で前町長がなくなり、トップ不在の期間が長かった大槌はその時点で他市町村に後れを取っていました。一刻も早く復興計画が必要でありながらも、町の将来を決める、とても大きくて重要な計画、しかも行政ではなく住民達が自ら作るものですから、平時であれば、一か月やそこらでできるものではありません。
しかし、この時は、年内に復興計画を完成できるという気持ちが強くありました。それは昔から大槌の集落に根付き、住民の間で育まれてきた「結(ゆい)」の精神、つまりは助け合い団結する気持ちのこと、私はそれに賭けたのでした。
そして期待通り、12月10日頃にそれぞれの集落から復興計画があがってきたのです。そして12月26日に大槌町復興計画が議会で成立しました。
あの状況において行政が先頭に出ていくのではなく、震災前から大槌にある東京大学大気海洋研究所の先生方にお手伝いを頂きながら、住民から上がってくる復興への計画を調整してもらったことが、功を奏したのかなと思っています。

写真② (2)

―では、復興計画を策定してから4年を迎えるにあたり、町長が現在の復興状況について感じることを教えてください。

大槌町は平成23年度から30年度までの8か年の復興計画を建てています。したがって今は、折り返しの時点にきていることになります。
復興状況について感じることは、水平線をゆっくり進む船のようなものだということです。
毎日この復興状況を見ている人から見ると、なかなか進んでいることがわからない。でも目を少しそらしてからその船を見ると、動いていることがわかるように、町外から来る人にとっては復興が進んでいるのが解る。そんな感じなのかなと思います。

―町長は40年以上も大槌町職員を務め、大槌の良さや魅力を今までもたくさん見てきていると思います。その中でも特に、町長の4年間を振り返って感じること、考えることはありますか?

復興を通じ、地元を思う住民のパワーや、住民の結束力が向上したことを誇りに思います。
震災以前は町の総合計画を作るような時に、懇談会を開いても参加率は高くありませんでした。しかし、震災の影響もあって、自分たちの町をこうしたい、ああしたいという懇談を何十回もやっている中で、今まで、参加しなかったり、発言しなかったりした人も参加するようになりました。今まで、我々は外の地域との交流を積極的には行っていませんでした。
しかし、震災後に多くの支援者、ボランティア、学生、外国人など、これまでにないくらい様々な人と交流を深める機会が増えました。
そのなかで、自治体だけでなく、町民の視野も広くなったように感じています。

大槌の魅力を広め、これからも忘れないために

-町長は、40年以上大槌町の職員を務めておられ、まさに大槌の町に捧げてきたといえると思います。それは、大槌町の魅力が町長を惹きつけているのではないかとも考えたのですが、大槌の魅力、地域の強みはどのようなところだと思いますか?

日本全国そうだけど、特に自然の景観が美しい街だなあと感じます。
それに大槌町には郷土芸能団体が19団体あります。神楽であったり、虎舞であったり、獅子踊りであったり、七福神であったり、さまざまな団体が現在も活動しています。
こんな小さな町で、こんなにも多くの郷土芸能がある町ってなかなかないですよね。
歴史的にも古い土地で、香り高い文化のある町だと思います。人情味があり、心の優しい人がたくさんいる、そんな町ではないかなと感じます。

ワードプレス用

―震災直後から今まで、大槌町を含め被災地域で活動しているボランティアがたくさんいます。
ボランティアの活動を見て、どのように思いますか?また、4年が経過する今、ボランティアに行く意味があるのかという声もあります。
町長はどのように考えますか?

震災当時も今も心から感謝の気持ちでいっぱいです。
震災直後からの復旧期には全国からたくさんの方々が駆けつけて下さり、本当に助かりました。一方で、震災後3年4年と過ぎてくる中で、ボランティアも減り、震災が風化し始めているのは当然のことだと思います。
復旧期にはガレキ処理や泥の片づけなどマンパワーが必要な作業が多く、始めはボランティアに頼る部分もかなりありました。
でも今は、作業として業者の担う大きい工事が進められている状況にあります。
橋や道路を作る仕事などは、当然ボランティアじゃできません。そのかわり、復興のソフト面ともいえる住民の心のケア、例えば、応急仮設住宅の暮らしが長い皆さんを勇気づけるような存在、心の拠り所となり、被災地を励ます役割を担ってもらえるのではないかと思います。
私はいつも、「私たちはいつも大槌にいるので、来てくれるだけでありがたいです。」という話をします。そして大槌で買い物をして、ご飯を食べて、励ましてくれる、それだけでいいのです。大槌に来て感じた魅力についてほかの人へ発信してもらえれば、さらに嬉しいことです。
そして、例えば手紙などで交流が続くような大槌との繋がりを持っていただき、リピーターとなって足を運んで、長い目で復興を見守ってもらえたらありがたいですね。

―では最後に、現役の大学生や高校生に向けてのメッセ―ジをお願いします。

被災地を訪れたことのない学生は、一度来てみるべきだと感じています。
大槌は全人口の一割の方が亡くなり、いま、ゼロからのまちづくりをしています。多くの学生は、これから人生の中で、楽しいことだけでなく、様々な苦しみ悲しみにも遭遇するでしょう。
今、現実にこれほどの苦しみや悲しみに遭いながらも、再び立ち上がろうとするこの町の様子を目にし、ここに生きる人々の決意や明るさに触れることによって、視野が少し変わったり、自分を少し成長させることができたりするのではないかと思います。

http://youthfor311.com/interview-for-3-11-vol-3/

Finding a place to call home still plagues Japanese displaced by quake and tsunami

BY MIMI WHITEFIELD

MWHITEFIELD@MIAMIHERALD.COM

01/08/2015 7:00 AM

arahama_ariel1 arahama_ariel2

SENDAI, JAPAN

For Kiichi Kida, the reason he doesn’t want to leave the land where the Great East Japan Earthquake shook his home and then triggered a killer tsunami that swept it away begins 500 years ago. That’s where he starts the story of his fight to stay on his land in Arahama, a southeastern coastal district of Sendai that was devastated on March 11, 2011 when 36-foot waves — looking more like a black stew of broken trees, bobbing cars and unmoored houses than water — rushed far, far inland. His ancestors, he explains, were samurai who lived on Shikoku, an island in western Japan. After they hung up their swords five centuries ago, they moved to the Arahama area where fish were plentiful and the mountains full of game.

Now, little remains of Arahama beyond the stone foundations of the homes once occupied by Kida, 69, and his neighbors. The city has told them they can’t rebuild on their ancestral lands because they are too close to the coast.

APTOPIX Japan Earthquake (1)

Waves of the 2011 tsunami hit residences after a powerful earthquake in Natori, Miyagi prefecture (state), Japan, March 11, 2011. It was the largest earthquake in Japan’s recorded history. | AP

The local government would like to buy the land and turn it into a park or other public facility, but it can’t force people like Kida to sell.That tug-of-war in Arahama points up the problems of reconstruction and rebuilding lives nearly four years since the twin wallop of the earthquake and tsunami claimed nearly 16,000 lives — 2,623 are also still listed as missing — and destroyed 127,305 homes. More than 1 million others were damaged.

In Arahama, 187 people died and six are classified as missing. It once had a population of 3,400, but now Arahama is little more than a ghost town. A wall of water that swept over the pine forest separating the community from the wide beach snapped off the trees like toothpicks and turned them into spears that came crashing into homes. “It’s the city’s opinion they should move to a safe place, rather than rebuild — expensively — on a coastal site,” said Kenichi Suzuki, who has been working with tsunami victims on behalf of Sendai’s Wakabayashi ward office. But that collides with a traditional way of thinking that some residents still embrace. “They believe that the ancestor spirits still reside in these areas and they should protect the land for them,” said Akiko Sugita, secretary general of Japan’s Foreign Press Center. “Public authorities want to encourage them to give up the land and move on, but it is taking a long time.”

Even for the third-largest economy in the world, putting communities back together is a struggle. During the disaster, 470,000 people were forced out of their homes. Some 240,000 people, including 80,000 evacuated because of the Fukushima nuclear plant disaster that followed the quake and tsunami, are still displaced. They live in temporary housing or bunk with relatives and friends. “Home rebuilding is our top priority,” said Yoshifumi Ayusawa, of Japan’s Reconstruction Agency. But shortages of building materials and construction workers, land ownership issues and the relocation of residents from areas no longer considered inhabitable have slowed the process. This fiscal year work is expected to be underway on 87 percent of the public housing planned for those who lost homes. Over the span of five years, the cost of reconstruction is expected to reach $220 billion. The plan is to close the reconstruction agency dealing with the triple disaster known as 3-11 by March 2021 but the expectation is that dealing with the fallout from the nuclear plant will take far longer. Some 1.35 million tons of debris were cleaned up in Sendai after the tsunami and quake and the mountains of destroyed cars were sent to the recyclers long ago.

But the memories of March 11 are everywhere.

The bridge where traffic became so congested that people couldn’t escape still stands. At the Yuriage Junior High in nearby Natori, the clock is still stopped at 2:46 p.m., the hour the 9.0 earthquake — the greatest magnitude ever recorded in Japan — hit 40 miles offshore.

Along the more than 300 miles of Japanese coastline affected by the tsunami, tide walls are being constructed or rebuilt, and the concrete barriers — the highest will be nearly as tall as a five-story building — aren’t without controversy.

Critics claim this Great Wall of Japan won’t be sufficient to protect against a tsunami of the magnitude that ravaged the coast on March 11, are an eyesore that cuts off the sea from fishing communities and could adversely affect the environment. The government says they are needed to save lives in a country that experiences 1,000 earthquakes a year.

In Sendai, the tsunami walls are being raised from almost 20 feet to 23.6 feet. Work also has begun on raising land that sank as much as three feet after the quake and elevating a 6.2-mile stretch of the Sendai Tobu highway to 20 feet. New stairways and signs indicating people should climb the highway embankments in the face of a tsunami are being put up. The highway project is expected to take five years to complete but officials say it is vital because during the 2011 tsunami elevated sections of the highway prevented waves from flowing even further inland. “We think that with these two barriers (the elevated highway and the walls), we will be able to protect against a tsunami of the once- in-100-years variety,” said Suzuki. But the waves that pounded the northeastern coast of Japan in 2011 were of the once-in-a-millennium variety. Simulations show that with the raised embankment and higher tsunami walls, flooding on the west side of the elevated road would be less than 6 1/2 feet. Through such simulations, “we’re gaining more knowledge about how tide walls can save lives,” said Katsumi Abe, of the Miyagi Harbor Restoration agency. “We expect when the repairs are complete, this area will be safer than before.”

But Kida doesn’t think so: “I’ve opposed the walls from the beginning. They are changing the land. Every time it rains, the water flows toward the sea and those flows shouldn’t be interrupted. We think Sendai City isn’t putting enough focus on nature.” As the fractious debate continues, memories of the snowy March day when coastal residents’ world went under water are still causing psychological scars. Kida is determined to hold on to his plot even as he readies a home site further inland. “My ancestors are here and I want to protect this area as long as possible,” he said. “People should have a choice where they want to live; they shouldn’t be forced. The decision to establish restricted areas is up to Sendai and the other towns and cities along the coast, Abe said. But Kida said his ancestors came “hundreds of years before Sendai was established. I am not leaving because the city says I have to.”

He heads an organization called The Group that Wants Restoration of Arahama. “We think that living on the shore is natural in an island like Japan. Modern technology should make this possible,” Kida said. On his former home site, he has put up two buildings that seem quite permanent but technically aren’t homes. One, which has electricity and cooking facilities, is the club house for the Arahama group. The other, which includes a bathroom, will be Kida’s personal office. One of his neighbors — the only one in the community to resume fishing — has built two rough fish shacks on the land where his home once stood, and Chickako Syoji, who does office work for the Arahama restoration group, has put up a tent near her former home’s foundation stones. She dreams of someday having a seaside library on the spot. It wouldn’t be a conventional library, but rather a place where local people could come together to tell their stories and bring in books they wanted to share with others. “It won’t be a big square building with a lot of books,” she said. “My son is a librarian. It’s still in the concept stage and we’re still figuring out the details.”

But despite the hopeful dreams, Arahama and Yuriage are still desolate. Here and there a lonely pine that escaped the onslaught punctuates the coastline or a battered concrete block home stands.

“When we first came back to see Arahama, it was swept clean; there was just this vast space and it was horrifying,” said former resident Adachi Tadashi, a community leader. He later found his crushed house 2.5 miles inland. Homes, businesses, boats and the top soil from farmlands also were washed away in Yuriage. Now the wide open fields make it resemble a rural area and vegetation is beginning to reclaim the roads in a 158-acre protected area where no home can be rebuilt. “Part of the reason the damage was so great here was because we weren’t acting responsibly,’’ said Koichi Sakurai, who worked in a Yuriage seafood processing plant and fish market that was destroyed by the tsunami. “People in this area weren’t expecting a tsunami or perhaps only a small one.” Instead, he said, the giant waves came five times, killing 750 people in a district that had a pre-tsunami population of 5,000. “Evacuation drills only took place once a year — and usually only elderly people participated,” said Sakurai. “But it was a drill in name only.’’

He shows a terrifying aerial video of people moving leisurely toward higher ground as, apparently unbeknown to them, a menacing wall of water just a few rows of houses away rushes toward them.

No tsunami warning was given in Yuriage, Sakurai said, because the earthquake had already knocked out emergency communications equipment. In other areas, the rising water damaged emergency equipment. “They thought all they had to do was install the devices and their job was over. Residents have lost faith in the authorities and that is one reason reconstruction is so slow in this area,’’ Sakurai said. Abe, of the Miyagi Harbor Restoration agency, said lessons were learned during the tsunami and new emergency facilities will be built on higher ground. Meanwhile, the work of repairing docks and fish packing and distribution houses continues. The ports in Miyagi Prefecture sustained damage of around $2.2 billion but all are now at least partially operational. Many people don’t want to return to Yuriage even though they still owe debt on their destroyed homes, Sukurai said. “If I had the money, I would be rebuilding elsewhere,” he added. Many former residents are still living in temporary housing far inland from Yuriage.

“My mother is 85 years and she says she doesn’t plan to have a funeral in temporary housing,’’ Sakurai said. “I’m grateful for temporary housing but now very few people are appreciating it.” Scattered around Sendai, a city of 1.7 million, are 20 temporary housing sites with 1,500 units. Many more families, said Suzuki, have rented apartments on their own. Around 130 families live in temporary quarters on a city-owned site earmarked for the Arai elementary school. Some residents have tried to brighten up their low portable dwellings with plants and flowers but others have fallen into depression. Teams of mental health workers visit periodically. “Some are really depressed and for them, small problems can seem very big. Everyone is feeling stress but some people are annoyed by the very trivial,” said Tadashi, 72, who is a leader at temporary housing as he was in Arahama. “They complain their neighbors are too noisy or they hear pigeons and sparrows walking around on the tin roofs because people are feeding them,” he said. “We listen to their stories even if we can’t solve them. I do think this has helped me grow as a person.” To keep spirits up, there is karaoke and dancing at the community center, and a group of women has learned to play songs, such as Orange Tree on the Hill on the koto, a traditional instrument.

Katsuyoshi Hayasaka, 74, who headed the Arahama Residents’ Association has taken up a similar role at the Arai community. During the tsunami, he helped to organize community residents who sought refugee at the Arahama Elementary School and were rescued by helicopter from the roof. At the school, he tried to keep his neighbors together and drew up lists of who was there and who wasn’t. “It was very cold and the teachers tore down the curtains and wrapped the children in them,’’ he said. Now he feels a similar sense of responsibility for the people at Arai. Syoji also lives there with her 89-year-old mother Tsumeko. They are packed in but the tiny apartment does have air conditioning and everyone was given a refrigerator, microwave, rice cooker, small television, washing machine, blankets and a pot to boil water. Still, Tsumeko is happy. When the family’s home was swept way, the wooden memorial plaque for her ancestors was lost. It later turned up in a lost-and-found and she beamed as she displayed the nicked but still intactihai to a visitor.

Syoji had hoped to only be in temporary quarters for two years but she said there have been delays in finishing the public housing where she hopes to move. Sendai plans 3,200 units of new public housing but in October, just 660 units had been completed.At Arai-higashi, where a new 197-unit building recently opened, residents gathered at the community center on a rainy afternoon after the remnants of a typhoon had blown through. Even though the complex hasn’t been fully completed, they were moved in anyway because the need was so great. The rent varies at Arai-higashi depending on income, but it is about one-third the cost of regular public housing.About a third of the residents used to live in Arahama, and about 40 percent are 65 years or older — an age when change comes hard. With Suzuki’s help, they had just formed a residents association. “We’re planning on building a community here,” said Kimio Oyashi, 71, the newly minted association president. “We’re pretty satisfied to be here. The size of our apartments is about double what it was in temporary housing. And there you could hear everything the neighbors were doing.” “We’re making efforts to get our lives back together. We just have to keep trying,’ said Teruko Sumi, who recently move in with her two chihuahuas. Unlike most public housing buildings, pets are allowed at Arai-higashi.

Tani Endo, who used to live in Arahama, is feeling much better since the first traumatic days after the tsunami. “It was almost like watching a movie — not our real lives. People were all stacked together after the disaster and we all had to sleep in the same room. “I try to forget but when I look from this building I can see the place where all the pines trees were in Arahama and now there is nothing there,” she said. “But this is a nice place and we have our privacy. Now we are smiling again.” “More than 3 1/2 years have passed,” said Oyashi. “Many people who are here lost everything and we think living in a safe place is most important. Only a small percentage of people want to return — mostly the rice farmers. But for former office workers, it is just too scary.” Sokichi Shoji, 78, and his wife Sachiko have done their best to make their new apartment seem like home even though it is only about a third of the size of their former house. They have brought in plants, artificial turf and stones to recreate the tranquility of a zen garden on their small balcony.

http://www.miamiherald.com/news/nation-world/world/article5653362.html

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Luftaufnahmen der zerstörten Küstenstädte in Tohoku

復興庁は5月9日、震災直後からの復興の状況を示す基礎資料の1つとして「空から見る復興の状況」を整理・公表しました。

写真は撮影地点一覧と、比較写真の例(大船渡市・大船渡駅周辺地区と、陸前高田市・高田地区)

『空から見る復興の状況(2014年3月31日)』
復興庁・2014年5月9日公表(PDF):

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POINT OF VIEW: Don’t let disaster-stricken Tohoku region remain as Tokyo’s ‘colony’

By YUZURU TSUBOI/ Staff Writer

March 11 marked the third anniversary of the earthquake and tsunami disaster that triggered Japan’s worst nuclear accident.

One question sums up the frustration felt by residents of the stricken Tohoku region of northeastern Japan: “Does the Tohoku region still remain a colony?”

The question was in an essay written by Norio Akasaka, director of the prefectural Fukushima Museum and folklorist, and carried by The Asahi Shimbun on Jan. 29. Akasaka was a member of the Reconstruction Design Council, an advisory panel established by the central government.

In his essay, Akasaka posed critical questions.

He asked why Fukushima Prefecture was obsessively devoted to providing electricity, generated by two nuclear power plants, to Tokyo as if it were a vassal state paying tribute to the capital.

Akasaka also asked why the intentions of local people were ignored in the name of reconstruction that focused on large-scale public works projects.

After raising these questions, he went on to point out that the 2011 triple disaster exposed a bleak reality that the Tohoku region has faced for far too long.

His view is not so far from the truth in three respects.

One is that localities stricken by the nuclear accident have been effectively abandoned.

Even today, newspapers dated March 12, 2011, remain piled up at a distribution store in Namie, a town close to the crippled Fukushima No. 1 nuclear power plant.

Residents separated from their families and communities by radioactive fallout cannot even get close to the point where they can contemplate restructuring their lives.

Secondly, there has been little progress in what is termed as “creative rebuilding,” a vision that was drawn up for the depopulated region which serves as an epitome of any rural area in the future.

The rebuilding projects, which were cobbled together with little coordination among central government ministries, do not offer a new platform that will allow residents to rebuild their communities based on a plan that factors in continued population decline.

The projects do not make it any easier to take on a new model for fishing and agricultural operations, either.

On top of this, preparations for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics are accelerating the drain of manpower and materials, which are essential to the rebuilding process.

Thirdly, searing memories of the devastation are fading with the passage of time. The fact that about 100,000 people are still forced to live in prefabricated temporary housing does not make headlines any more.

Last month, an article in The Asahi Shimbun noted that local government chiefs felt a huge gulf between the affected region and Tokyo after seeing a poster celebrating Tokyo’s hosting of the Summer Olympics. It was displayed in the Reconstruction Agency, which they were visiting to lobby for rebuilding. I find the episode a painful reminder of the perception gap.

Admittedly, smiles are returning to the faces of many people in the stricken region.

That said, the Tohoku region still seems to be regarded as a convenient “colony” of Tokyo, the nation’s center of affluence.

This is a reality of Japan that has not changed even after the unprecedented adversity.

I propose that everybody contemplate this third anniversary by asking some key questions.

What kind of a community are we aiming to build? Rebuilding efforts are still in the first chapter and a review of the plans is possible. We should also ask whether investments from government coffers are being spent for a meaningful purpose and are sustainable.

A picture of the stricken region five years from now or 10 years from now must be nothing but a reflection of our own in the future.

 

***

RECOVERY STILL DISTANT GOAL

According to the National Police Agency, 15,884 people died and the whereabouts of 2,633 others remained unknown as of March 10 due to the Great East Japan Earthquake, tsunami and nuclear accident.

In addition, 2,973 people died of causes related to the disaster, such as deteriorating health resulting from the evacuation and suicide, in Iwate, Miyagi and Fukushima, the three worst-affected prefectures in the Tohoku region.

In Fukushima Prefecture, the number of deaths resulting from evacuation after the nuclear accident exceeded that of the earthquake and tsunami.

About 267,000 people nationwide are still displaced due to the 2011 disaster.

About 104,000 households live in temporary housing.

The occupancy rate of prefabricated temporary housing is about 84 percent in the three prefectures.

The figure compared with less than 60 percent reported three years after the Great Hanshin Earthquake of Jan. 17, 1995, which claimed more than 6,400 lives in the Kansai region.

According to the Reconstruction Agency, 2,347 units of public housing for victims will be completed in the three prefectures by the end of this month. But the figure is only 9 percent of a total planned.

The circumstances surrounding schools, a key part of efforts to rebuild communities, are bleak.

Many children are continuing their education in makeshift schools or “renting” rooms in other schools.

The affected localities are faced with an array of challenges. These include a population drain, scant progress in rebuilding and a need to provide mental health care services.

 

***

Yuzuru Tsuboi is chief of The Asahi Shimbun’s Sendai Bureau and head of its team covering the recovery of the Tohoku region.

By YUZURU TSUBOI/ Staff Writer

Betonwälle – 14,5 m hoch – geplant als Küstenschutz

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Betonwälle - 14,5 m hoch - geplant als Küstenschutz

Planungen zum Küstenschutz in Kesennuma, Rikuzentakata, Otuchi und Taro:

‪#‎Japan‬ – ‪#‎Erkundung‬ von ‪#‎Tokyo‬ und ‪#‎Tohoku‬:
Während der 2. ‪#‎Deutschjapanischen‬ ‪#‎Summerschool‬ ‪#‎Sanrikufukkou‬ werden wir vom 7.9. bis zum 15.9. die Städte ‪#‎Kesennuma‬, ‪#‎Rikuzentakata‬, ‪#‎Otsuchi‬ und ‪#‎Taro‬ besuchen und mit Wissenschaftlern, Politikern, Behörden und Betroffenen über die Pläne und Umsetzungen der geplanten ‪#‎Betonwälle‬ – teilweise bis 14,7 m hoch sprechen. An einigen Orten waren die Proteste gegen diese Planungen so erfolgreich, dass nun neu geplant werden kann. In Rikuzentakta und Taro werden bereits Berge abgetragen, zum einen um dort Baugelände zu gewinnen und neue Wohnanlagen zu bauen, zum anderen, um das Bodenniveau an der Küste anzuheben.

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Streitigkeiten beim Wiederaufbau – Küstenschutz in Otsuchi

ein Artikel von Prof. Yu Nakai (University of Tokyo Graduate School of Engineering Sciences, Institut für Soziale Infrastruktur | EA Association)

Schon im September 2011 hatte die Regierung in Tokyo beschlossen, an der Sanriku Küste zum Schutz der Siedlungen an der Küste bis zu 14,7 Meter hohe Betonwälle zu bauen. In Otsuchi sollten 14,5 m hohe Betonmauern gebaut werden. Zunächst war die Bevölkerung mit dem Vorhaben einverstanden, versprach diese Mauer doch Schutz und das Bauland direkt am Meer wurde nicht wertlos, die Chance, dort wieder zu bauen war gegeben. Aber im Laufe der Zeit wurden die Überlegungen und Gedanken der dort lebenden Einwohner deutlicher. Die hohen Betonmauern sind im Falle eines Tsunami immer noch nicht sicher, verleiten aber die Bevölkerung, nicht auf Anhöhen zu fliehen. Das größte Problem sind die Kosten – aber Betonwälle sind auch eine Katastrophe für die Biodiversität und das Ökosystem: Berg-Fluß-Küste. 

Während unseres zweiwöchigen Aufenthaltes in Otsuchi (12.9. bis 24.9.) werden wir intensiv über die Probleme und die unterschiedlichen Meinungen sprechen.

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 wissenschaftliche Überlegungen zum Küstenschutz

Ein Artikel von  Associate Professor Yokoyama Katsuhide, Tokyo Metropolitan University

Vom 7. bis 9. September werden wir an der Sanriku Küste mehrere Buchten und Strände in Kesennuma und Rikuzentakata besichtigen und mit Wissenschaftlern, Studenten und Jugendlichen vor Ort über weitere Planungen zum Küstenschutz und „Leben mit dem Meer“ diskutieren.