On The Radio

What began as an off-hand joke became reality Saturday, September 3. A month prior I suggested to Hicca, of Daruma fame, that I be a guest on Rainbowtown 79.2 FM where she produces.

The first weekend of every month a token foreigner is invited into the studio to share viewpoints on Japan. From 10 to 11 a.m., a voice from America hit the local airwaves. Hicca, who translated and produced, planned to question me about teaching. Given the immediacy of an increasingly man-made catastrophe, I wished instead to give voice to Katrina.

The Japanese press hadn’t been covering enough about the flood with upcoming national elections, reminders of which I struggled to block out. Vans outfitted with bullhorns cruised streets broadcasting party platforms. Candidates and staff waved with white gloves from inside, or from atop the van’s roof deck if parked near a train station or supermarket.

Otosan, Daruma’s genial father, dropped by to deliver a needed energy boost: an ice-cream sandwich breakfast. Rainbowtown’s stationmaster (and Daruma regular) was happier to see me than I was him on four hours rest. He asked if I was American. “Sort of” was my first response, unsure of what being American meant anymore except shame and embarrassment over foreign and now domestic affairs.

He pointed to a picture in the paper of black people waiting for food. In Japanese he recounted driving a relief truck to Niigata after a 6.8 quake killed 40 people in 2004. Some survivors abandoned the refined civility for which the Japanese are famous, and grabbed his collar to demand supplies. Storm orphans in New Orleans were grabbing more than just collars.
9:57 a.m., show time. I was nervous. Jishin omote gambarimasu, I told him. I’m going to do my best with confidence. Hicca ran through procedures, although neglected to instruct how to switch on my mic, leading to on-air confusion.

In between The Beatles and Aretha Franklin, I delivered a Reader’s Digest summary of Katrina. After all, Hicca had to translate, and many out there didn’t even know the basics of a hard to grasp reality of an all-American tragedy: a major metropolitan area was flooded, sweeping away thousands of lives. I logged onto CNN.com videos of floods, fires, and looting. Graphic scenes enlivened still words. “Ehhhhh, I had no idea,” Hicca kept repeating, off-air.

Before we transitioned to teacher talk, Hicca played “Stand By Me.” I reflected on the irony of government's failure to do the same for citizens in the most dire of circumstances, with the most basic of needs.

What would happen should a devastating earthquake cripple Tokyo? The bleak reality is that the underclass of foreigners would assume the roll of hapless black Southerners left to fend for themselves amid the rubble.