March 11, 2011 evening, I was doing my normal online checking before bedtime (you know what I mean, you social media addicts), a post came in. Japan was hit by a magnitude 9 earthquake, followed by a Tsunami. The next hour, I was glued to the TV screen, trying to find out every bit of what the people in the area had to deal with.It may just be me. It feels that we have seen more than our fair share of the natural catastrophe in the last year or so.
The Haiti earthquake in January 2010 that led to a death toll of 230,000 and 3 million people were affected.
Weeks later, a magnitude 8.8 earthquake hit south-central Chile on February 27. The massive temblor changed the country's landscape by raising the ground by more than 8 feet near the coast and sinking land farther inward.
The Iceland volcanic eruption in March and April 2010 disrupted air traffic across the whole of Northern Europe, thus stranding many passengers and the aviation losses amounted to around millions of dollars due to the cancellation of the flights.
Just as we thought we've had enough earthquakes in a year, a magnitude 7.1 earthquake ruptured in Christchurch, New Zealand.
I have to admit that when these disasters happen in another part of the world, I get shocked at the news, follow it and talk about it for a while, then go back to my "normal" life. When the same area in Japan was hit again with a magnitude 7 earthquake and a Tsunami scare on April 7, it occurred to me that (1) things will take a long while before they go back to "normal" for those that are impacted by this disaster and for some, things will never be back to normal; (2) we all have a chance to face the aftermath of losing the comfort of home and/or our loved ones to a natural disaster.
We don't plan for these disasters and I hope that no one ever will have the need to. But when a catastrophe struck, a small token of gesture, such as a warm hand, may make a world of difference to them. Look at beforeand after images that Stack Jones put together. What a peaceful and happy life people were leading not long before this devastating day.
I can never bring their houses back. I can never bring their husbands, wives, sons, daughters, mothers, fathers or pets back. And I can never bring their lost memories in the photo albums or toys from childhood back. But I can do small things, small things that when acted upon by many of us, can be meaningful to those that, maybe one day, we will know exactly how much pain they feel when we are in their shoes.
I have donated two pieces of my photographic work to an online auction put together by Artists for Japan. They are listed below for your convenience. Click on the image to go directly to the bidding page.
