British consulate lays on evacuation buses and advises nationals to stay 50 miles or more beyond reactor danger zone
As he waited in the evacuation centre Kevin Williams had to choose between fear and love: a nuclear power plant in multiple-meltdown mode or a Japanese girlfriend he intended to marry.
The English teacher (who asked for his name to be changed) had a seat to safety on a bus out of the exclusion zone around the Fukushima nuclear plant. With the radiation threat growing, it would be sensible to flee. But his partner, Satomi, could not join him because she could not leave her family. He had a short time to decide.
Williams was not the only one facing a dilemma among the crowd of several dozen expats and travellers in the lobby of the Sendai ANA Holiday Inn. Closed for normal business, the hotel had been converted into a temporary UK consulate complete with a union flag draped over a registration table. For the first time, it was also serving as an exit out of Japan's widening disaster zone.
The consulate had announced it would lay on buses for British nationals and the other foreigners who had endured a week like no other in history, with a massive earthquake, devastating tsunami, catastrophic failure of nuclear reactors, and worsening shortages of fuel and food.
"We've had a week of no water, no kerosene, so we stink and we're cold. There is no transportation so we feel our options closing," said Paul Harris, who had lived in Sendai for 20 years, and was leaving with his Japanese partner, Kayoko Ono. "It hurts to leave. This is home and we will be back. If it weren't for the problems at the power plant, things would get back to normal here. But officials don't seem confident it will go well."
Such inconveniences pale beside the suffering of the 430,000 Japanese refugees made homeless by the tsunami. Many of them are huddled in temporary shelters with poor sanitation, little food and insufficient blankets and heating despite plunging outdoor temperatures.
But fears of radioactivity and worsening shortages have prompted many countries to advise their citizens in north Japan to leave. Some are organising evacuations from near the Fukushima nuclear plant.
China has already withdrawn its nationals. The US, Canada and Australia are expected to do the same.
The contrast with Japan's response is striking. Residents of southern Sendai go about their business as usual, wandering around in the snow that blows from the direction of the distressed power plant only about 50 miles away.
Individuals are also taking action. Matthew Selingham, a human rights lawyer from Wimbledon, London, had arrived just 11 hours earlier from the UK to rescue his wife, Hiromi ,and daughter, Daisy.
"As soon as I saw the disaster on television on Friday, I went to Heathrow. ANA put me straight on a plane so I could rush here to give them a hug," Selingham said. "I love Japan. It feels terrible to leave. We should stick with them, but there is so much pressure from home. I'm getting messages from friends saying 'run! run!' and offers to pay my fare."
With a return flight to London booked the same evening, he hoped his family would soon be safely back in the UK. But he was interrupted by a consular official, calling people together for an update on Britain's travel advice.
The announcement underlined the growing sense of alarm. The UK had accepted Japan's exclusion zone of about 20 miles around the failing nuclear reactors. But this changed overnight because of the deteriorating situation: "As an additional precautionary measure British nationals are advised to remain outside an 80km radius of the Fukushima nuclear facility. This is in line with the advice issued by the US government to its citizens."
The widening of the exclusion zone brought immediate consequences for the crowd. "This will affect us. Unfortunately, we will not be able to go directly. It may take an extra day," said one person.
The pressure to leave is immense, but many are conflicted.
Abigail Bailey, a 19-year-old from Little Hadham, Hertfordshire, was in Japan for a year off before university. She was reluctant to leave a school job she had quickly come to enjoy. "It was a really hard decision to leave the kids I teach. If it was up to me and the travel advice hadn't changed, I would have stayed. But my family left 20 messages telling me to get on a bus. It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order."
Leaving though is a privilege. Most of the Japanese people in the shelters are trapped by a lack of petrol, a shortage that has also made it difficult to distribute food.
It was thought the consulate might provide further buses; 85 people left on Thursday.
Ultimately, Williams was not among them, though he admitted he was tempted to go. "I had a moment of panic. It's very easy to get swept up in the mood of crisis. But there is no way I'm leaving my wonderful, wonderful, girlfriend," he said.
Satomi seemed determined not to put him at risk. "Please convince him he must go," she urged her friends. But his mind was made up. The couple would remain on the border of the exclusion zone. "We'll have to be careful and stay indoors," Williams said. "I'll admit it's pretty scary, but it would be scarier to think that she's here on her own. Could anyone leave the person they love?"
Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/mar/17/fukushima-nuclear-threat-expats-leave
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