KOLINA Distrito Río Negro

Throughout the preceding empirical chapters, I have built the discussion on Japan's community-focused recovery in line with the key principles are driving academic debates, governmental narratives and development practices of community-based approaches. So far, I have focused on the principles of participation (Chapter 4), empowerment (chapter 5) and resilience (Chapter 6). The remaining principle is that of proximity, one of the foundational characteristics that make community-based approaches literally processes that are 'based in the community'. I have deliberately left this principle as the last one to be discussed, as it stands at the foundation of these approaches. In this chapter I will argue that 'proximity' as a tangible and physical iteration of closeness to the community, best illustrates the point of divergence and slippage between the exogenous and endogenous narratives for post-disaster recovery. As I have argued and further discussed in previous chapters of this thesis, for the local residents, the recovery presents primarily as an affective process, where the meanings, priorities, and language emerge as a distinct discourse from the connection between the affective context and the meanings that are formed from direct and embodied experiences with this context. It is therefore 'proximity' to the affective landscape and embodied experiences with the landscape that form the starting point for the recovery narratives, articulations, transmissions and practices of the disaster victims.

For the authorities however, 'proximity' has come to mean physical closeness of the administrative procedures with the geographical context of the recovery (Annex 3). The 'Hope beyond the Disaster' -report for instance reads: "[the government should] make efforts to make maximum use of the abilities of municipalities, which are the main actors in reconstruction" (Reconstruction Design Council 2011, p. 18, emphasis added), where the affected municipalities are expected to assume the lead role in reconstruction and recovery, as they are viewed to be in the best position to understand local conditions, respond to emerging needs, and consult local populations. They are also the administrative units that will work directly and independently within national reconstruction frameworks. This iteration of 'proximity' seems to follow the general conceptualisation embedded into academic and practitioner debates about proximity, that focus on the intensification of the relationship between the developer and the developed. Maskrey (2011) for instance notes that progress in the development of community-based approaches depends on the embedded closeness/proximity into the process, with "communities progressively engaging and involving supra-local actors such as local and central government agencies and non- governmental organizations (NGOs) to support their activities" (p. 44). The principle of proximity in the Japanese government's reconstruction documents is primarily framed as a synergy between the municipalities at the centre, functioning as the primary actors designing a recovery based on local needs and wishes, while being financially and legally supported by the government.

However, the focus on the administrative closeness and proximity not only makes the starting point for the disaster recovery diverge strongly from the affective experiences of the disaster affected communities themselves, but also limits the municipalities' abilities to even consider the affective nature of recovery. To frame proximity as an administrative process where the municipalities hold the consultative power but only limited legislative and fiscal control, in itself radically limits the power of municipalities to realise the ideas, needs and desires of the populations who they are in proximity to, and whose voices are supposed to be guiding the recovery. Equally, the government's fervent commitment on equity in the recovery process (Oguma 2013) makes it increasingly difficult to fully service and respond to localised needs that can be radically different from one place to another. Paradoxically, the promotion of proximity of the process to the recovering communities, seems to be actually distancing

communities from the formal recovery, while also arguably standing at the root of the separation of the exogenous and endogenous discourses on the recovery into two different spheres of language, action and directions.

In this chapter I will explore the different starting points for these discourses through two concepts gaman (perseverence) and ochitsuku (settledness) that through their polarised affective states for the local residents, represent the discord and tension in the duality of the recovery process. Gaman and ochitsuku are verbal and articulated representations of these affective states through which the local populations were sequencing the recovery in the temporal space: One must persevere the discomfort before reaching a place of comfort. Achieving the goals set out in the formal recovery will simultaneously mean the onset of another recovery where the values and priorities outlined by the local populations, such as rebuilding communities, forming social bonds, and building a sense of homeliness, can finally be realised; as Mr. Takeda noted "once this recovery is over, we can start to rebuild our

communities". These polarised states exemplify and illustrate the tangible aspects of the 'two

recoveries' discussed throughout this thesis, where the end of the formal recovery period, with its embedded goals of increased safety and foundations for socio-economic growth being completed, will constitute the end of waiting and persevering in a state of discomfort. But despite the formal recovery making a promise to deliver communities that are safe from the harm of environmental hazards and contain the potential for socio-economic growth and prosperity, for the local populations this promised 'end goal' only formed the beginning of the second recovery through which the meanings embedded into the endogenous narrative could be achieved. In this way, the formal recovery was standing in the way of the communal recovery, suspending local populations into a persistent state of liminality between the past that was lost, and the future that is promised.

The chapter discusses the meanings of the different intensities these two states produce, from enforced waiting and longing for new beginnings, and how these states can illustrate the impact these intensities has on the recovery as proximal to the communities and thus 'community-based'. Despite the terms being embedded into the Japanese contextual, interpersonal and linguistic setting, these states and intensities are not uniquely Japanese (Cox and Perry 2011, Barrios 2017, Albrecht 2006). While gaman tends to be the accepted

state from which recovery begins within the exogenous discourse for the recovery, seen as the unavoidable period of discomfort and tensions, the chapter posits that perhaps instead of accepting of discomfort as necessary for a period of time, and should rather begin from the search of comfort. In the chapter I will show that both gaman and ochitsuku influence people's abilities, motivations, and directions in relation to the recovery and it is therefore imperative from the perspective of community-based approaches to recovery, that these varying intensities are taken into consideration both in the strategic and practical work of recovery.

In relation to the principle of 'proximity', I will argue that only bringing administrative processes close to the recovering communities is simply not enough, as reducing recovery into mere administrative efforts lacks genuine engagements with the daily reality of communities living in recovery contexts. As outlined in the previous chapters, the majority of communities included in this study were still leading their lives amidst physical reconstruction in 2015 and 2016, with the main forms of attachments emerging from the sphere of the intangible and the immaterial for the local residents. However, as I will exemplify in this chapter, while these intangible and immaterial values were at the forefront of the exogenous discourse, emphasising the latent, quintessential and unique characteristics of Tohoku's rural communities as the foundation for a 'better' society, I will show how the language utilised by the authorities nonetheless echoed romanticised appropriation rather than genuine reflections of contemporary rural societies. Such romanticised notions as grand aspirational goals for the recovery did not meet the real, and rather small and mundane, needs of the communities where residents were eagerly waiting for the re-opening of supermarkets, pharmacies and pavements that were holding people from feeling settled (ochitsuku). Due to such differences, proximity as an administrative process of 'listening to voices', 'empowering local populations' and 'building resilience' can only result in good intentions that can help people persevere, rather than real actions through which people would feel at home in their communities.

Hamdi (2014) refers to this process as finding "beginnings that count", where instead of strategic planning for the 'big' purposes meeting the broader goals of the recovery, fixing vulnerabilities and democratising the process through which these goals will be achieved,

overshadow the real needs of people are much more tangible, smaller and immediate, related to destroyed properties and loss of livelihoods that often have to wait for the big plans to be completed. Rather, 'proximity' should also include genuine efforts to understand the intimacy to the recovering context in which the recovering populations are existing and how this context tangibly impacts their capacities for action and engagement in the recovery. Recovery should therefore start from genuine attempts to understand the real lived experience of communities and the shape of the problems and challenges that reside at the heart of the motivations for disaster affected communities to engage with authorities and development practitioners. Solving these small problems would not only help to understand the shape of the problems through the act of solving them (Kay 2011), but also enable victim communities to increase their levels of comfort along the way. The chapter therefore raises questions on whether democratic and empowered community engagement into the big and strategic plans is ever really possible, if it leads to a sense of inescapable enforced state of waiting (gaman) where people only need to wait for the 'big plan' of the recovery to be over in order for its logic to be reveals and the reap the benefits it bring, while not responding to the immediate concerns and needs that emerge from the affective context that would help people reach a point of comfort (ochitsuku).

7.1. Prolonged state of Gaman

Anxiety over change is reasonable, as is the expectation that the majority of residents will in time successfully adapt to their new living conditions and be able to recreate the sense of community in their neighbourhoods. As outlined in Chapter 6, the majority of affected municipalities were engaged in large scale reconstruction projects that often included either community relocations to higher ground, land elevations, construction of tsunami walls, or all of the above. The length of the recovery was therefore set at approximately 10 years, so that these structural and infrastructure changes that would facilitate the emergence of the government's grand vision of a stronger and vibrant Tohoku and Japan to be brought into reality. While the majority of local residents well understood the realities of a recovery project of this magnitude, when I asked people what they thought about the recovery, the first

reaction to my question was almost universally "osoi desu!" (it's so slow!), usually uttered with exasperation and sense of frustration or disbelief.

To manage the long recovery period necessitated by the realisation of government's grand vision for Tohoku, affected populations were expected to persevere (gaman) (Gerster 2019, Slater et al. 2014, Samuels 2013). Gaman is a typical expression in the Japanese language, one that even foreign learners pick up and learn to use in everyday language relatively quickly. The word has its origins in Zen Buddhism, denoting one of seven types of human conceit, but since the Edo period has been used to refer to a positive meaning of stoicism, perseverance and the ability to endure difficulties. This contemporary meaning has been widely attached to the 3/11 disaster (Burgess 2011, Victoria 2012), and was strongly present as a theme in my discussions with the disaster affected populations too, with an emphasis on strength of character and abilities to wait out the recovery. One day as we were sitting in Mr. Takeda's and his wife's small temporary housing unit, he excitedly started telling me how much he was looking forward to their new house that they were planning to build on higher ground in the same inlet where they had lived for decades and raised a family, finally noting that "we have

to gaman (persevere) just a little bit longer".

By its nature gaman therefore contains a sense of endurance of discomfort, that in the case of post-disaster context was often associated with the physical and mental precarity of the temporary living situations. While lack of space and poor insulation with noises from the neighbouring units causing a great deal of discomfort and irritation for residents, these temporary houses nonetheless were the first semblance of home after the loss of their long- term, and often ancestral, homes in the tsunami. Ms. Shimizu who was Mr. Takeda's neighbour in the temporary housing complex, explained feeling a sense of relief when they had finally been allocated their current abode, saying: "when we got here, it was the first time I started feeling more at ease". Simultaneously however, these homes were not permanent, and often residents had had to move from one temporary unit to another as the recovery went on, with each move including a series of complicated and emotional decisions for individuals that cannot be overlooked in housing and relocation policies (Watanabe and Maruyama 2018), leading many to proclaim their tiredness of waiting, and coming close to

joining those who had already permanently moved out of these communities as they simply could not persevere anymore.

The slowness of the recovery and reconstruction, the distance and voicelessness people experience in the recovery, and the barriers it presents in helping people move forward have forced people in Tohoku to exist in a prolonged, and often enforced, state of gaman for years. Even those who remained positive about the official reconstruction process, and who had actively participated in it, seemed tired: "We have been very patient" Mr. Takeda sighed, hoping that soon, in six months or a year people will be able to return to their communities, but also noting on the opaqueness of imagining one’s long-term future: "[the new neighbourhoods will be] very safe but no one has experienced them yet. In six month or a year,

we will know what our life will be like when we live on higher ground [...] But actually no one is still very sure", Mr. Takeda continued, referring to the uncertainty over the future that

reigned in people's minds. Similarly, Ms. Ishida (REF 44), worrying about her children's future wondered "what will this community be like, I cannot imagine it, not even a little bit".

Disasters are primarily associated with destruction. They do not only destroy physical landscapes but significantly impact the emotional and psychological attachments people have with localities (Blunt & Dowling 2006, Morrice 2013, Cartlidge 2010, Barrios 2017, Albrecht 2006). Disaster experiences result in both disorientation and reorientation; disorientation is caused by the loss or change of familiar markers of the community, while reorientation refers to the psychological process of forming a new sense of identity and place within the changing landscape (Cox and Perry 2011). More importantly, Cox and Perry (2011) found that the restoration of the physical community as a meaningful place was found to help people form positive place-attachments and make them feel at home. As we were driving in Minamisanriku, Mr. Kimura made a familiar turn but suddenly found himself somewhere he was not meant to be, stating that "the roads keep changing all the time", noting on the impact this fluctuation has on the daily life in the town and the ability to connect with the landscape, and the loss of 'instinctiveness' that Ms. Shimizu noted on in the earlier chapters. Due to the length and complexity of the physical recovery, the processes of disorientation and reorientation in Tohoku were in constant motion. Therefore, the sustained and prolonged state of recovery that was "osoi desu!", had suspended locals from establishing such

permanent and meaningful connections with their landscapes, having a detrimental effect on the recovery of the localities in the long-run. The physical landscape no longer bearing resemblance or holding physical points of attachment with the past, nor yet giving clear indications of the shape of the community in the future, was also impacting people's abilities to finding a sense of home in their communities.

Such attachments however are fundamental for coping and adaptation (Brown & Perkins 1992), making trajectories into the future increasingly difficult to imagine. Similar to Klien's (2017) findings along new migrants to the Tohoku region, many new arrivals I spoke with recounted the opaqueness of their futures when viewed from the present. Many had moved to the region in subsequent waves of recovery and reconstruction action, taking on new jobs and roles in non-profit initiatives, new businesses and ventures that had emerged as a result of the increased interest in the Tohoku region. While many of the individuals I spoke to were happy with their choices, feeling an increased sense of life satisfaction in the rural regions and wanting to start lives and families in the towns, similar to the long-term residents who could not yet imagine their new lives at all, the future of the new migrants seemed uncertain with lack of permanent employment, housing and continued decline of the region (e.g. REF 1, REF 4, REF 32, REF 33, REF 42). The long time scale and grand scale of the recovery resulted in a distancing and misting over the path from the present to the imaginative future, where the distance not only made imagining a concrete and tangible future difficult. Determined to continue on their chosen path and hoping that their dreams would come into being "sometime" in the future, they also recognised that the realisation of their dreams depended on the sustainability of employment and access to housing that stood at the foundation of the possibilities to build a stable life in the rural regions, far away from family.

The desired stability in many ways culminated in the completion of the physical reconstruction, whose absence, or delay, can often accentuate attachments to the immaterial that gains new meanings and importance in people's adaptation to unfamiliar situations and contexts (Forbes 2017, Sou & Webber 2019, Meyer 2012). Because the populations in Tohoku were not yet physically inhabiting their permanent homes, the material community remained imagined and idealised and was not yet connected to tangible affects that a physical community would induce. Morrice (2013) argues that these immaterial aspects of the

community are often idealised, drawing on affective states and memories as the building blocks of what communities of the future would mean. Such idealised sources of affective intensities can however also lead to political and ethical consequences (Ahmed 2004), with nostalgic notions of traditionalism and authenticity becoming projected into the future as the ideal goals for the recovery to achieve, while also propelling the framing of tangible actions in the present.

As noted in chapter 6, the emphases on the immaterial, such as resurrection of local festivals and traditions were overtly dettectable, functioning as invitations for outsiders and visitors