FUKUSHIMA, Japan » Marian Moriguchi grew up in Alewa Heights, but she has spent 26 years making a home in Fukushima, her husband Kenji’s birthplace.
The couple, who met in Hawaii, have established businesses in Japan and paid off a mortgage. They’ve reached a point in life where they ought to feel secure; however, in the aftermath of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster — the largest nuclear accident since Chernobyl — they are plagued by uncertainty.
"We haven’t decided if we should stay here," Marian Moriguchi said. "We’ve been in a kind of a limbo. Our children live in Hawaii and they want us to move back. But our work, our home is here."
The Moriguchis moved to Fukushima so Kenji could take care of his family and their Hawaii-born children could go to school in Japan. However, his parents are dead now and the couple’s children have been living in Hawaii since college.
"I’m free to go anyplace now," Kenji Moriguchi said. "However, we don’t have jobs in Hawaii and that’s holding us back. Many people are staying here because they don’t feel that they have the means to leave. People have lost homes, jobs, everything."
While the couple lived 381⁄2 miles from the nuclear power plant, they evacuated to Tokyo after the accident.
"When the winds blew our way on March 18 (2011), we knew we had to leave our home," said Kenji Moriguchi.
As these events unfolded, the couple’s daughter, Christie Moriguchi, watched helplessly from Hawaii. "I couldn’t even breathe, I was so worried about my family," said Moriguchi, who grew up in Fukushima but is now a concierge at Trump International Waikiki.
Her parents were cleared to return to their Fukushima home at the beginning of April 2011. Kenji Moriguchi returned almost immediately; however, Marian Moriguchi spent some time in Hawaii through the Aloha Initiative program.
"Since we are breathing radiated air, we need to clean out our lungs, especially children," Marian Moriguchi said.
Despite reassurances from official sources that they are safe now, the couple doubts the information. Like many in Fukushima, they avoid buying local food and drinking local water.
"We try to lessen the impact of radiation by not taking it internally," she said.
Although the couple feels safer now than they did in the first few weeks after the accident, Kenji Moriguchi said they are painfully aware that the long-term impacts of radiation on the human body are unknown.
For these reasons, Christie Moriguchi wants her parents to move back to Hawaii.
"I don’t think they are safe right now," she said. "Every single bit of air that they breathe, I think there is radiation inside. We want them to come back to Hawaii as soon as possible. No matter what costs it takes, the health … comes first."
While the couple weigh their decision, they distract themselves by helping others who seem worse off. Marian Moriguchi assisted Fukushima Kenjinkai, a Japanese prefectural association, with relief efforts and has recruited children from Fukushima to participate in Rainbow for Japan Kids.
"What do you do, press a panic button?" Marian Moriguchi said. "I thought helping someone else would be a good way to relax."
Through his work as a translator, Kenji Moriguchi also has helped empower numerous victims of the Fukushima disaster by helping them share their stories.
"I can’t help thinking that this could have been us," he said over a bowl of ramen at Kohaku, a recently opened restaurantin Iitate Village 1st Matsukawa Temporary Housing, one of the prefab communities set up for those unable to go home.
The Moriguchis often stop for ramen at the shop opened in November by Toshiko Akaishizawa. Akaishizawa had a successful shop of the same name in a community close to the nuclear plant, but she had to abandon it after the explosion.
"I was cooking when I heard the blast," she said. "Afterwards, I just stood there. I felt like I was in a dark tunnel."
While Akaishizawa and her husband have managed to build a strong business from the captive patrons in the temporary housing, others have struggled to find their stride. Akichio Sato, a displaced construction worker, wanted Kenji Moriguchi to tell Star-Advertiser readers how difficult it is to live in prefab housing.
"Families are separated because there is not enough room," Sato said. "There are five people in my family, but two are living away from this area."
Finding new jobs and making new friends is challenging, he said.
Seeing their homes deteriorate is heartbreaking for the adults who have returned to gather belongings, Sato said.
"When I visited my home last year, I saw mold all over. The ceiling was broken and things were scattered. The floor was decaying. Rats had eaten my clothes," he said.
While the changes have been challenging for adults, Marian Moriguchi said she is also concerned about Fukushima’s displaced children. Moriguchi recruited 14-year-old Saaya Watanabe to come to Hawaii last year as part of the Rainbow for Japan Kids program.
Watanabe’s father, a volunteer firefighter, has been missing since he responded on March 11, 2011.
"They had a funeral for him on March 10 of this year," Marian Moriguchi. "It’s been so very hard for Saaya."
In addition to coping with the loss of her father, the teen has lost ties to her community, Moriguchi said. Her house was knocked down to its foundation by the tsunami and since the family lived within 10 miles of the nuclear plant, they have not been able to return to their hometown of Namie, she said.
"She also has endured prejudice," Moriguchi said. "Other people in Japan sometimes blame people in Fukushima for the tragedy because they allowed the plant to be built."
Cars with Fukushima license plates have been vandalized, she said. And children and others who are receiving compensation for the tragedy have endured misconceptions that they are well-off.
"In the beginning, she was going through a lot," Moriguchi said. "Each day in Hawaii, I saw her getting more cheerful."
Saaya said her time in Hawaii helped her.
"I met other children from the Rainbow Kids project and we were able to share our experiences," Saaya said. "I didn’t find any of my classmates from Namie, but there were three people from my community there. We were able to talk about what has happened to us."
Saaya has kept in touch with the Namie children. With time, she has gained strength through perspective.
"The tsunami and the disaster was such a frightening experience," Saaya said as tears ran down her cheeks. "I try to think now that any problems are going to be fine. By thinking that way, I can overcome the difficulty in my life."
Saaya said her ambitions have changed, too.
"Before the disaster, I wanted to be a hairdresser. Now, I want to join the self-defense force so that I can help other people," she said. "I’m proud of my dad."
Saaya said she doesn’t have any immediate concerns. However, she still dreams of normalcy much like the Moriguchis and others who are caught in limbo.
"I really want to go back home. No matter how many years it takes," she said.
On hearing this, Moriguchi looked into the distance, wiped away a tear and said, "It will be at least 30 years before that’s even possible. She’ll be 44.
"It’s so difficult here."
