Joso, in the Ibaraki prefecture of Japan, sitting just north of Tokyo, is, for the most part, a rather unknown city. Hidden away in the flat planes of Ibaraki, Joso’s most notable claim to fame is its 30% Brazilian population, and being one of the few trains in Japan to still run on diesel. So, you can imagine my surprise when two days ago, it’s name suddenly became known to the world – and I was sitting right in the middle of it all.

I moved to Joso in late March, as a teacher for two local junior high schools. The area was sold to me on its vicinity to Tokyo, the famous Tsukuba mountains being only 30 minutes away, as well as a well preserved samurai house being very close-by. In my short say in Japan, I’ve experience a fair few “natural disasters”. These range from being in a swaying skyscraper in Chiba, during an earthquake, where a rather drunk Japanese man shouted out, “What do we do? Don’t worry…We’re all drunk.” And another where I was awoken to the heavy sways of a much stronger earthquake, to which my mature response was to pull the covers over my head and try to go back to sleep (“I don’t want to go to school today Mum!”). In fact, I’ve even been through a fair few Typhoons; but all that ever happened was a light rumble from some distant thunder, the rain ruining my washing and me continuing to complain about the humidity. However, this one was a little more difficult to ignore.

On Thursday 9th September, I went to work just like any other day. All mobiles in Japan (yes, even the immortal flip phones) come with an inbuilt app which informs you about emergencies (earthquakes, typhoons, Godzilla, etc.), so needless to say, as I was driving to work and it blurted out several warnings to me, I knew something was wrong. My suspicions were confirmed as soon as I stepped into the office at school. I was immediately sent home, with my co-workers ominously warning me that several students had already had to flee their homes, and I should do the same. Of course, I thought nothing of it. I had been in Typhoons before and I was fine.

Despite my poor assumptions, within less than an hour, I was given an evacuation order by the city and my employer to seek higher ground. I threw what I could in a bag (it’s a lot more difficult to think of what to put in there when you’re actually in an emergency) and made my way towards the local elementary school – it, like many other schools in the area, had become evacuation centres, with their gyms being re-purposed into shelters for the community. With help from a friend, we managed to translate the warnings from the PAs around the city: “Please take an action to protect your life.” Brilliant.

The evacuation centre was what you could expect. Families scattered themselves throughout the hall, kids ran around playing basketball, trying to keep themselves entertained, and my friends and I huddled in the corner, all agreeing with one another that we’d be let out by six…at the latest. Of course, that was never going to happen. The Kinugawa river, a rather beautiful sight during the summer, broke its banks long before our estimated leaving time arrived. It swept through northern Joso, and within seconds, had taken with it homes and the lives of some of the residents. It was difficult to comprehend; everything that someone owned, gone in an instant. Those images began to quickly spread across the world as the story garnered more traction, and with that, so did the missing persons count.

Despite all this, if there was one good experience I had, it was the response of the local government of Joso, and the support from the other cities in the area. When we arrived at the evacuation centre, our names and addresses were taken, we were given food three times a day (as well as snacks when they were able to provide them)’ when the running water was shut off (it still is), they brought in water, and when it turned out we were going to have to stay the night, that first day, they made sure that we all had blankets. Even local companies came to lend a hand, in an effort to boost moral and make sure we had everything we needed. Some came to provide a warm meal (which was better than any cooking I could manage), while a national phone company came to set up Wi-Fi for the centre. Even though many had lost their homes to the flooding, spirits, for the most part, seemed to be high. People were smiling and talking to one another, kids were still running around and playing, and our gaijin corner had become, what I would call, a beacon of electrical hope…providing extension leads to the masses.

On the occasions that we did sneak out of the shelter (unless my employer is reading this, in which case, this honestly didn’t happen – I swear!), it was shocking to see that, despite being a few kilometres away from the breach of the river, the city of Joso was still heavily flooded. Friends of mine had to wade their way through water to get to the evacuation centre, and areas that had only been dry a few hours before, were now completely submerged.

One of the more worrying experiences during the evacuation centre was on the morning of the 12th September, where around 6am in the morning, we were woken to a rather intense earthquake. The epicentre began in Tokyo bay, but was felt as a 4-5 magnitude across the whole of Ibaraki. Living in Japan, you go through a lot of earthquakes (see the aforementioned stories), but I’d be lying if I was to say I wasn’t worried about this one. There was a real fear among a few of us there that this would cause landslides and thus, even more damage to the already battered Joso. Fortunately, these fears were never realised – and despite a hit to moral, the earthquake was just an earthquake. (Although, I was asked by the BBC if I thought the Typhoon was what caused the earthquake….really….)

However, in true Japanese efficiency, most of the city has returned to normal. Few shops are open, and the water situation is still tentative – with only a couple of roads going in and out of the city, it is difficult for them to receive the supplies they need. I myself am finally back at my apartment. I can’t stress enough how fortunate I was in all this – my apartment avoided the flooding, and the only problem I have to contend with at the moment is the lack of running water. But, my complaints pale in comparison to some of the people we spoke to. Some have lost their homes and others still wait to hear if their friends and family are okay. Although the city will recover, this isn’t something it will likely ever forget.

In the end, we met some new friends, I was interviewed six times, and I learnt the words “flooding” and “protect your life” in Japanese. I’d like to thank countless people for all their help. From my friends and family for constantly checking in on me (and putting up with my complaints), to those at the evacuation centre – not only the staff, but the people who we spoke to. Their tenacity in helping everyone there was inspiring, to say the least. So, at the time of writing, all we have to do is to wait and see, what we can do to help, and when the city will finally return to normal.