As we conclude Disaster Preparedness Week, our neighborhood supply shed has been cleaned out. In every train station, disaster maps are posted that show evacuation areas. Our first refuge is across the street in the tiny play park. From there we and the neighbors proceded to the large botanical garden if necessary.
A team of men and a big flatbed truck appeared at the local park in the morning. They opened the shed and took out a large assortment of things: a red and yellow striped beach umbrella, wooden planks, folding trestles, trash bins, rice making equipment, bamboo screens, large signs, boxes of miscellaneous supplies. It all looked a bit derelict and not at all as I expected.
Why did I imagine that disaster supplies would be tidy, futuristic packages? Most of what I saw come from the shed wasn't even wrapped to keep the dust out. One of the older men sprayed around the edges of the shed with a fumigant. No doubt this man is our neighborhood disaster representative and I will I read about him in the next issue of Nishikata Dayori.
By the time I returned from running errands, the shed was repacked and the truck loaded with refuse. The men were moving one final item onto the truck--a stair-stepper exercise machine. I guess that's not too handy in a disaster.
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