Sakura, sakura

Shinjuku last Sunday

Last weekend marked the peak of the cherry blossom season in Tokyo: already the cherries near my house are turning to leaf. the fleetingness of the bloom is one of its main charms: blink and they are gone, a reminder that everything in this world is fleeting, but that the wheel of nature will continue to turn, indifferent to our human troubles, its vitality a consolation.

The city's outspoken right-wing mayor, Shintaro Ishihara initially suggested that all festivities be cancelled in sign of mourning - it seemed unfeeling to be partying in Tokyo as Tohoku continues to suffer terrible hardship. This of course was not a popular suggestion, akin to saying "no chocolate bunnies this Easter" or "lets tell Santa Claus not to waste the reindeer power".  The final solution was a compromise: entertainments were cancelled at Ueno, alcohol was banned and bags checked in some parks (Shinjuku), while in others, such as Yoyogi, where I joined the AFJ picnic (Association des Français du Japon), the message of self-restraint seems to have been sufficient and there were no unseemly displays of public drunkenness (which would not have looked good on Monday front pages) nor many telltale red faces.

Today I continued the hanami  experience with  about 30 members from my Japanese-international women's group (Nadeshikokai) in beautiful Shinjuku park. As all our group activities had been cancelled for the past month, I suggested we get together for a little celebration. It was a great success and a nice way to lift everyone's spirits, which have been quite depressed - NOT because of Fukushima, but because of the terrible mess left behind by the tsunami.  It was warm (you can tell I'm turning red) and the Japanese as usual went overboard providing special cherry-viewing delicacies in beautiful boxes.

Saint Maur International School's fundraising for earthquake relief has entered a new stage as the "sister school" has been identified: Nakahama elementary school in Miyagi. Saint Maur relief fund now has a blog to update us on their continuing efforts. Mainichi ran a story on Nakahama ES's survival story - pretty amazing.

Fear and hope - the words of the wise

I can't resist the temptation of sharing some incredibly pertinent passages from my favorite new stoic philosopher, Seneca, whom I already quoted in a previous post (in French).

I finally cracked the covers of Letters to Lucilius, and have been delighted with Seneca's stoical pragmatism.  This is a book that has lived on our bookshelf at least 6 countries since 1993, when my brother gave it to my husband as a Christmas present (Seneca is "Sénèque" in French... so kind of a joke present) and never been read. I'm usually more of an escapist novel reader, but I had run out of reading matter, so I decided to give Seneca a try (I will read a cereal box if truly desperate). This is why I hate to give away books: you never know when you might get around to reading them.

Letter 13, on fear and fortitude, speaks directly to what we have experienced through this past month in Tokyo - and will continue to face, as earthquakes occur daily (a 6-/7 at 17:19 in Fukushima just gave us a strong enough rattle that I dived under the desk). 

There are more things, Lucilius, likely to frighten us than there are to crush us; we suffer more often in imagination than in reality.(...) What I advise you to do is, not to be unhappy before the crisis comes; since it may be that the dangers before which you paled as if they were threatening you, will never come upon you; they certainly have not yet come.  Accordingly, some things torment us more than they ought; some torment us before they ought; and some torment us when they ought not to torment us at all.  We are in the habit of exaggerating, or imagining, or anticipating, sorrow. (...)

And somehow or other it is the idle report that disturbs us most.  For truth has its own definite boundaries, but that which arises from uncertainty is delivered over to guesswork and the irresponsible license of a frightened mind.  That is why no fear is so ruinous and so uncontrollable as panic fear.  For other fears are groundless, but this fear is witless. 

Let us, then, look carefully into the matter. It is likely that some troubles will befall us; but it is not a present fact.  How often has the unexpected happened!  How often has the expected never come to pass!  And even though it is ordained to be, what does it avail to run out to meet your suffering?  You will suffer soon enough, when it arrives; so look forward meanwhile to better things.  What shall you gain by doing this?  Time.  There will be many happenings meanwhile which will serve to postpone, or end ...the trials which are near.  (...)

Life is not worth living, and there is no limit to our misery, if we indulge our fears to the greatest possible extent; in this matter, let prudence help you, and resist fear of trouble with a resolute spirit even when it is in plain sight.  If you cannot do this, counter one weakness with another, and temper your fear with hope...

Most men, even when no troubles are actually at hand or are to be expected in the future, become excited and disquieted... We let ourselves drift with every breeze; we are frightened at uncertainties, just as if they were certain.  We observe no moderation.  The slightest thing turns the scales and throws us forthwith into a panic.

La peur et l'espoir - les mots du philosophe

Je ne puis résister encore une fois de vous servir une portion de Sénèque, mon nouveau stoïcien préféré. 

J'ai finalement ouvert les Lettres à Lucilius que nous trainons de déménagement en déménagement depuis que Christian l'a offert à mon mari (Sénèque de son nom) pour son petit Noël en 1993.

Voilà ce que Sénèque nous apprend sur la peur, et pourquoi le sage doit apprendre à la maitriser. C'est à la fois frappant de vérité par rapport à ce que nous venons de vivre -- encore un tremblement de terre au moment ou j'écris ces lignes, j'ai fait une petite pause d'une minute sous le bureau -- et ce qui nous attend les prochains mois à Tokyo.

 Ce que je te recommande, c’est de ne pas te faire malheureux avant le temps ; car ces maux, dont l’imminence apparente te fait pâlir, peut-être ne seront jamais, à coup sûr ne sont point encore. Nos angoisses parfois vont plus loin, parfois viennent plus tôt qu’elles ne doivent ; souvent elles naissent d’où elles ne devraient jamais naître. Elles sont ou excessives, ou chimériques, ou prématurées. (...)
    Je ne sais comment le chimérique alarme toujours davantage : c’est que le vrai a sa mesure, et que l’incertain avenir reste livré aux conjectures et aux hyperboles de la peur. Aussi n’est-il rien de si désastreux, de si irrémédiable que les terreurs paniques : les autres ôtent la réflexion, celles-ci, jusqu’à la pensée... Il est vraisemblable que tel mal arrivera, mais est-ce là une certitude ? Que de choses surviennent sans être attendues, que de choses attendues ne se produisent jamais ! Dût-il même arriver, à quoi bon courir au-devant du chagrin ?  Il se fera sentir assez tôt quand il sera venu : d’ici là promets-toi meilleure chance. Qu’y gagneras-tu ? du temps. Mille incidents peuvent faire que le péril le plus prochain, le plus imminent, s’arrête ou se dissipe. (...)

    La vie n’est plus d’aucun prix, nos misères n’ont plus de terme, si l’on craint tout ce qui en fait de maux est possible. Que ta prudence te vienne en aide, emploie ta force d’âme à repousser la peur du mal même le plus évident ; sinon, combats une faiblesse par une autre, balance la crainte par l’espoir. (...)
    Représente-toi souvent combien la majeure partie des hommes, alors qu’ils n’éprouvent aucun mal, qu’il n’est pas même sûr s’ils en éprouveront, s’agitent et courent par tous chemins. C’est que nul ne sait se résister, une fois l’impulsion donnée, et ne réduit ses craintes à leur vraie valeur... On se laisse aller aux rapports ; où il y a doute, l’épouvante voit la certitude ; on ne garde aucune mesure, soudain le soupçon grandit en terreur.

Rien de neuf sous le soleil: l'espoir comme remède à la peur, ça devrait être à notre portée...

Donate to Saint Maur International School Earthquake Fund!

In the days following the earthquake, St Maur International School in Yokohama (my daughters’ school),  set up an Earthquake Relief Fund  which has already collected over 1.3 million Yen. The effort is being led and coordinated by a  teacher, Mr Morice, who has already travelled to tsunami-hit areas to assist with relief and cleanup efforts.

So far 100,000 Yen has been donated by school staff to Peace Boat (peaceboat.org), an NGO working in the tsunami affected town ofIshinomaki, Miyagi Prefecture. Peace Boat have set themselves the goal of feeding 500 people 3 warm meals a day, as well as helping in the cleanupof the local community.  Saint Maur also donated 3 huge cooking pots, kitchen knives and ingredients such as miso, soy sauce & dashi.

The objective of the fund will be to “adopt” a school in Tohoku (in the process of being identified) with which St Maur can establish a relationship – something that will benefit students from both schools and create a sense of connectedness and purpose. I was deeply moved to hear that a school in Pakistan which St Maur supported as its service project  last year reciprocated by sending a contribution of 200$: this demonstrates how direct giving enriches both giver and recipient on so many levels.

It is wonderful to see the children so motivated and busy devising various fundraising projects - the best possible  way of putting the trauma of the earthquake behind them and looking toward the future. Yesterday, for instance, they had a “free dress day” (i.e. no uniforms - usually a reward for classes respecting the "English only policy"), but this time they had to pay 300 Yen for the privilege of dressing in the red-and-white of Japan. The student council and teachers have many ideas for concerts, raffles, trips  to help with the cleanup effort, etc. Daughter #1 is representing year 11 on the earthquake relief committee, so I will keep you informed of the progress of their service efforts and what is being done with the money.

Details of how to donate are on the St Maur website

If you want to donate, but international bank transfers seem too complicated, contact me and we can try to find a solution.

Fear and flight, men and women

Four weeks after the Great Eastern Japan Earthquake, the mood in Tokyo is still somber. This was the worst natural disaster to strike Japan in human memory, and Japan is still in mourning. Tokyo at night is quiet: restaurants are fairly full, but close early, and no one is really in the mood to party. The news is full of images of destruction and stories of people in Tohoku painfully trying to put the pieces back together, with no documents, jobs, transportation or homes: their past washed away, their future inscrutable. If I find it difficult to watch these human-interest segments without crying, how much more painful it must be for the Japanese.

Many of the foreigners who  temporarily left Tokyo have returned - certainly this is the case of many families with children in international schools, whose exorbitant school fees have been paid up til the end of the year. Most of us would rather drink a tubful of water with slightly elevated levels of iodine-131 and cesium-137 than  home-school a cantakerous 12-year-old while living in our parents' basement.

As our lives  return to normal, we are still spending an inordinate amount of time talking about what we felt and did during that first fearful week, and explaining why we made the choices we made. In fact, it is pretty much our only topic of conversation when we meet up with friends we haven't seen since Friday 11th.  Some left, some stayed, some  followed their embassy's recommendations, some did not, some were spirited away by their employers, some had to bear the expense of relocating themselves.

Though our feelings about the choices we made are complex, one thing is sure: EVERYONE was afraid. As one friend, who works on the 50th floor and can no longer stand the seasickness-inducing aftershocks, said, "I've found my Kryptonite". The earthquake and tsunami were terrifying, and rightly so.

The gaijin (foreigners) who fled Japan after the quake were quickly nicknamed "flyjin", and a website, called flyjin.com set up to poke fun at the often highly dramatized, first-hand narratives of escape (not from the tsunami, but from shaking, panicked Tokyo) that have appeared in the foreign press. In flyjin.com's opinion, it seems, the only acceptable justification for leaving is "I was afraid" -- everything else is a smokescreen.

It struck me this morning as I read some of these stay/leave narratives that they were all written BY MEN. If you find one by a woman, please tell me!

The reason, I assume, is that we females of the species are more ready to admit we are afraid. And that the admission does not threaten our womanhood - in fact risk-aversion is expected of us. Conversely, however, when we struggle successfully to conquer our fear and anxiety, we feel less of a need to brag about it. Modesty is also expected of us.

Having spent the first 2 weeks after the quake in constant supportive email exchanges with other stay-in-Japan mothers (Japanese and foreign), I'd like to salute their toughness, courage and endless capacity for empathy: they provided moral support to their friends and family, ran their households, and kept up a cheerful face in order to shield their children from the mood of fear and anxiety -- probably the toughest job of all.

So thank you Masako, Shirley, Ana, Aki, Yuri, Mitsuko, Ines, Keiko and many others for being HERE when I needed you.

And let's have a thought for the brave mothers and fathers in Tohoku, who are struggling to contain their grief and fear for the sake of their children, and will undoubtedly find unsuspected reserves of courage and resilience to rebuild their lives. I have the deepest admiration for them.

Hair, music and bad journalism

On the train yesterday I stood in front of a heavyset young man in his twenties who spent the entire 10 minutes between Yutenji and Shibuya gazing at himself in the mirrored screen of his cell phone whilst making minute adjustments to his carefully tousled hair. It obviously took this young man considerable time and effort to achieve  a look that said "just fell out of bed, slipped on a trendy sweatshirt, and ran my fingers through my hair - but I'm not a hobo."

In fact not only Japanese men, but Hong Kongers are inordinately vain about their hair, and prone to extensive sessions of hair-adjustment on public transport, smoothing here, lifting there, so that they look like they have just stepped out of a wind tunnel or the chair of a demented hairdresser. Or maybe just stepped out of their Ferrari. Many seem to be emulating the hair styles of manga characters. A quick search of manga hair online suggested one explanation: manga characters have similar eyes and so hairstyle is a way to differentiate characters. It is one of the pleasures of Tokyo public transport to observe the infinite creativity of male hairdressing at work in Asia.
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Last night I returned  to choir practic eafter a long hiatus, and what a joy it was to sing for two hours! Most members of the British Embassy Choir were present, as far as I could tell - that was very cheering. Our choir director Steven is an exceptional teacher who and explains so clearly why we should interpret the music in a certain way, while sharing his deep musicological knowledge - its like a lecture/practice. We have been working on Bach's Mass in B minor, which I sang last year in Hong Kong and so  I am liberated from the stress of sight-singing (I am atrocious at it) and free to simply appreciate the amazing complexity and beauty of the music. Unfortunately we lost too much time to be able to perform the entire Mass as planned in June, and will therefore present only parts of it along with some short pieces by Haydn, Schutz and a couple more obscure baroque composers. More when we have dates for our charity concert.
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Reading news coverage of Japan over the last few weeks has revealed the truly atrocious  level of much of what passes for journalism. To be fair, journalists are under pressure to submit a lot of copy at short deadlines, so do not always have time for in-depth research. But sometimes they are simply lazy, stupid and attention-grabbing.

I was delighted to find that someone had set up this Journalist Wall of Shame, which lists some of the most egregious violations of the "fair and unbiased" code. These are ranked by severity on a scale from one to ten :

1 - 2: Probably unintentional, and based on bad info that seemed legit
3 - 4: Not malicious, just misunderstanding of the situation
5 - 6: Reporting without checking easily-confirmed facts; lazy as opposed to malicious OR just dumb fluff piece using human tragedy as a background
7 - 8: No fact checking; printing rumours as fact; sensational story more important than actual truth
9 : Fear mongering
10 : Hysterical fear-mongering along with racial/cultural/political bias
11 : Satan

My peeve of the week was an opinion piece on Slate.fr by Jacques Attali, a respected French economist, former head of the EBRD, former "sherpa" to François Mitterand. I was happy to find an forum where I could publicly excoriate him. I ranked it an 8. Obviously, he is more comfortable with numbers above 10⁶ than below 10^-6 . This just goes to show that even intellectuals can be intellectually lazy.

I'll also take advantage of this opportunity to point out that the French government (which Mr Attali served during the 1980s - the sinking of the Rainbow Warrior was in 1985) argued that nuclear testing in Polynesia similarly posed no health risk to  populations nearby because the amounts of radioactivity, though "higher than normal", were still well below the levels considered dangerous to human health. This is exactly what the Japanese government and many experts have been saying: dangerous to plant workers, probably a disaster for the immediate area around Fukushima, but not for Tokyo. the Australians and New Zealanders at the time were not persuaded by the French arguments and there was considerable diplomatic tension as a result (I worked at the French embassy in Canberra in 1993 - so I remember...). Similarly, I suppose, many outside Japan believe the information provided by the Japanese government cannot be trusted. But for someone with Attali's resumé to take the high moral ground on this issue is highly disingenuous.

There, I got it off my chest, and need not bring it up again. Pace, French friends, I love you dearly.

Les vertus de l'incertitude

Le mot d’ordre actuel au Japon est “gambarimasu”... Un verbe intraduisible constitué d’un mélange tout japonais de stoicisme, résignation et volonté. J’ai passé une heure ce matin à regarder des reportages en provenance des régions sinistrées sur un de ces morning show à la japonaise (un talento habillé en dandy anglais, un professeur au cheveux longs, une jeune et jolie journaliste dans un cadre de fausse cuisine d'une  laideur à couper le souffle). 

 C’est rageant d’être assis a Tokyo sans rien pouvoir faire: j’ai envie de sauter dans un train et d’aider une vielle dame à déblayer la boue et les ordures de sa maison. Mais sans vraiment lire le japonais, aucune idée de comment m’y prendre. A investiguer.

Les filles ont repris le chemin de l’école ce matin (à contre-cœur – les vacances c’était mieux), et je peux finalement me remettre un peu au travail sur le magnum opus ( le dictionnaire du chanoyu, pas le blog!).

Une semaine en Australie m’a fait le plus grand bien. Soleil, plage, chaleur, un peu de culture à Melbourne, des retrouvailles avec mon amie Jeanie (un petit soleil à elle toute seule), et pour ma grande des perspectives d’avenir (filière graphisme) qui l’aideront, j’espère, à tenir le coup encore un an dans une école ou elle peine à s’intégrer (avis aux parents: évitez de déplacer vos enfants en 1ere – difficile de se refaire sa place!)

Je ne suis pas trop soucieuse par rapport à notre alimentation (je pars du principe que les japonais sont encore plus inquiets que moi, donc je n’ai qu’a les imiter), mais j’attend les retombées politiques: il y a eu un manque de décision tout a fait impardonnable, par exemple pour débloquer des réserves de fuel et d’essence pour les régions sinistrées, une opposition LDP qui a fait obstruction au budget... Le peuple japonais est admirable, mais il devrait arreter un peu de “gaman-suru” sa classe politique.  Il mérite mieux.

Le “waiting game” va sans doute continuer quelques mois encore du coté de Fukushima, et le problème énergétique perdurera sans doute aussi . Actuellement tout le monde fait preuve de civisme (Selon le chouette "electrometre" de  Yahoo.jp, ce lundi matin nous sommes à 84% de la capacité maximale du réseau).  Mais l’été est beaucoup plus gourmand en électricité (climatiseurs) et l’état devra prendre des mesures plus décisives. On parle de fermer les grands magasins à tour de role un jour par semaine, limiter les heures d’ouverture, passer à un régime “nuit” à tour de role pour les usines.  J’imagine qu’un bon nombre de manufactures fonctionnent déjà avec des équipes 24/24h, je ne vois donc pas trop comment on peut éviter le rationnement.

La pénurie (toute relative) de certains aliments sur les rayons des magasins est en partie dû à des problèmes d’approvisionnement au niveau des emballages – plusieurs fabricants représentant des grosses parts du marché (des tetrapak pour le lait, des emballages pour le natto, par ex.) ont vu leurs usines endommagées par le tsunami ou ont dû réduire leurs activités pour cause de manque d’électricité, de difficultés à se procurer la matière première (des ports dévastés). On peut probablement s’attendre a des disruptions de ce genre encore un mois ou deux.

Marie, dans son email d'hier, a exprimé nos sentiments à tous bien mieux que je ne saurait le faire: "nos vies ont basculées vers un questionnement permanent sur ce que nous sommes et notre devenir. De nos certitudes sont nées des incertitudes, de nos confiances ont jaillies des peurs…"

Les CNN, BBC et cie font maintenant leurs choux gras de la guerre en Lybie. Là aussi, on focalise sur les images choc, et on oublie la tragédie humaine: les familles qui ont dû fuir les combats (beaucoup de ressortissants d’autres pays arabes), et qui se terrent chez eux, ou se retrouvent dans des camps, démunis, sans moyen de rentrer chez eux. On ne leur affrète pas des avions pour les rapatrier.

Pendant un an a Hong Kong j’ai travaillé comme interprète bénévole pour une organisation d’aide juridique aux réfugiés (appuyant leurs démarche de demande de statut de réfugiés auprès du HCR). Certains ne répondaient clairement pas aux critères du HCR, mais leur histoire n’en était pas moins douloureuse.  Je me suis demandé souvent ce que j’aurais fait dans une situation semblable (pour ne citer qu’un exemple: père et frère retrouvés égorgés, menaces voilées du responsable politique local, emploi précaire, pas de relations puissantes pour me protéger...): fuir plutot que de vivre sous la menace permanente, ou rester en espérant  que ça s’arrange? Fuir voulait dire supporter une longue et désespérante attente à Hong Kong, en vivotant d’une aide de 2000 HK$ (200 Euros) par mois. L'attente et l'incertitude, l'impossibilité de faire des plans d'avenir ou meme de travailler… les jours devaient être bien longs, nos clients étaient souvent déprimés.

Voilà ou je veux en venir avec cette digression: j’aimerais que le "questionnement permanent" dont parle Marie, notre état, pour certains, de réfugiés temporaires, nous incite à plus de compassion pour les personnes déplacées dans des pays infiniment plus instables.  Ils arrivent parfois sur les rivages d’Europe ou d’Australie dans de frêles embarcations et passent des années d’attente dans des camps. Ils ont tous eu des vies qui ont basculées, comme les notre à moindre échelle, ils ont fait l'expérience de la peur et de la fuite.

Excusez mon ton moralisateur aujourd'hui… Mais a quoi sert donc le questionnement si ce n'est de remettre en question ses certitudes et a tendre vers plus de vérité éthique, morale et humaine?

Terra firmis in Perth

The girls and I are now in Perth, Australia, staying with Steve's parents. It's scorching, and though we've made a point of getting to the beach yesterday and today, an hour is about all we can bear. We are like bears just emerging from hibernation and blinking in the bright sun. What a contrast with Tokyo and Japan,   it all seems unreal. The images of destruction are still on the TV screens everyday, and I'm finding it no easier to watch them from a distance - almost more upsetting.

Tomorrow we visit friends in the morning, celebrate a family birthday in the afternoon, and Monday fly Melbourne (not Brisbane -amended!) to continue elder daughter's tour of Australian arts and design schools and stay with Jeanie,  a dear friend from college days, who married a Kiwi and ended up down under... I wasn't originally going to come with Amira, despite Jeanie's entreaties, so it's a special added bonus.

The aftershocks continue in Tokyo, and I know how nerve-racking they are, especially for people working in high-rises. I do not miss that drunken, sea-sick feeling at all.

The girls' school (St Maur) has wisely decided to cancel or curtail most after school activities in the week following the end of the break, to take some pressure off the kids (like daughter #2, who has basketball, choir, drama, and flute lessons keeping her at school until 5.30 every day of the week).  Getting back into a school routine will help, but the constant aftershocks cannot but have a disruptive effect. You can't help stopping whatever you're doing to listen and wonder how long it will last this time...

One of Steve's uncles, now in his 80s, who was a young 18 year old soldier in Tobruk during WWII, has apparently been very upset by the images of destruction in Japan, which bring back some terrible memories of the war, probably in part because Tobruk is also in the news in reports of war in Lybia. The rapprochement in some way makes total sense.

I won't be updating this blog much in the next few days - our schedule will be pretty busy and access to internet episodic.

Tremblements de terre: la sagesse des anciens

Pour ceux qui trouvent consolation dans la philosophie, voici ce qu’a écrit Sénèque au sujet des tremblements de terre:

“Car où verrons-nous quelque sécurité, quand la terre même s'ébranle et que ses parties les plus solides s'affaissent, quand la seule base inébranlable et fixe qui soutient et affermit tout le reste, s'agite comme une mer; quand le sol perd l'avantage qui lui est propre, l'immobilité? Où nos craintes pourront-elles cesser? Où nos personnes trouveront-elles un refuge? Où fuiront nos pas chancelants, si la peur naît du sol même, si ses entrailles nous l'envoient? ...

J'annonce que rien n'est éternellement calme : tout peut périr et donner la mort. Eh bien! cela même est un motif de nous rassurer, motif le plus puissant de tous ; car enfin, où le mal est sans remède, la crainte est une folie. La raison guérit les sages de la peur ; les autres doivent au désespoir leur profonde insouciance.”
 
Livre VI des “Questions Naturelles” chapitre I. 

A lire en entier!

http://remacle.org/bloodwolf/philosophes/seneque/questionsnaturelles6.htm

Tokyo rated 4/7 on the hanami index

Get ready for an explosion of blooms in gardens and parks all over Tokyo! Camellias are in full swing, magnolias almost fully in bloom and cherries getting ready to burst into flower in a few weeks. Residents of Tokyo have been warned to prepare their picnic baskets...

Crash course in radiation - and other airborne risks

I watched this video of a lecture given by physicist Dr Otsuka at Tsukuba university this weekend, who explains some of the science behind the numbers we are seeing. He's a great lecturer, and funny, too!

I have been thinking also for the last week about how we deal psychologically with the risks that we take in our daily lives - driving, crossing the road, taking the plane (especially if you like to travel to places like Indonesia), talking on our mobiles, taking medicine, breathing the polluted air of our cities: all of these could be terrible sources of anxiety if we always had all the risk probabilities in mind. But if I went to the doctor saying that I no longer dared drive because there is a 0.007% chance I might be killed in an accident, I'd be immediately referred to a psychologist for an anxiety disorder. 

Radiation  scares us because it is invisible, Dr Otsuka pointed out in his lecture. But so is another serious health hazard:  air pollution. (Except if you live in Hong Kong, where some days the "haze" is so thick you can't see Kowloon from Central: pollution is definitely visible there.)

What are the morbidity/mortality rates for air pollution? Why do we accept this risk as a necessary price of development, of living in a bustling, rich, exciting city like Hong Kong, Madrid, Shanghai, New York, or Tokyo?

I will have to quote Wikipedia on this - sorry - specifically a WHO report quoted in the footnotes, which estimates annual worldwide mortality from indoor and outdoor air pollution at 2.4 million. To take Switzerland, for example the estimate is 800 deaths annually, for a population of 7 million. Air pollution aggravates respiratory disease, cardiopulmonary disease, asthma... making some people sick and killing others. 

To return to Hong Kong, where we lived for three years, we had many days of "high" pollution according to the totally outdated HK government standards, which would have been considered off the charts in most other countries! The subject is highly controversial in Hong Kong (see summary on Wikipedia), where the attitude seems to be that some increase in mortality  is the  price of prosperity. Have airlines ever cancelled their flights to Hong Kong for fear of exposing their staff to these extreme levels of particulate air pollution as Swiss, Lufthansa and Alitalia have done this week for Tokyo? Of course not.

Another possible difference between our perception of pollution vs radiation as a health risk, is  that no one dies spectacularly of a sudden, high exposure to city air pollution, whereas a sudden high dose of radiation will most definitely kill you. Secondly, that main health risk associated with radiation is cancer, an illness we fear more than others because it is hidden, mysterious, painful and not always treatable.

So while the threat of a radioactive cloud rising from Fukushima and spreading over Japan is scary, it's important to see it in the context of other environmental pollutants as well. Yet another reason to switch to renewable energy sources and work harder to reduce our consumption of energy. 

A touching article and educational video

Today I need to get back to work editing the soon-past-deadline dictionary of tea ceremony that I have been chipping away at for the last few months.  Raining in Tokyo, but wind is from the West, blowing the radioactivity out to sea (we won't be eating local fish for a while...).

I've already share both these links on Facebook, but for those who are not in my friends list, I'm adding them here.

First a very touching opinion piece by Paul Blustein in the Washington Post last Thursday, which echoes my feelings exactly.

Second, a Japanese animation that explains the reactor emergency to children, more clearly and comprehensibly than all the talking heads on CNN, as one friend commented.  Note that this could be somewhat disturbing for children in the potty training stage.

It's nice to know someone is thinking of children and their feelings and making an effort to explain the situation to them including the "worst case scenario". It will indeed be terrible for the people of Fukushima...

Sunday in Toritsudaigaku - returning to "normal"

Radiation levels in Tokyo over the last 24 hours: normal. The 150+ firemen who've been spraying the reactors appeared on TV this morning exhausted and emotional and justly proud of each other. It looks like they have been successful in turning the tide and keeping us all safe.  Crews in Iwate  have started work on temporary housing for displaced persons. Local TV stations have reverted to showing the world's weirdest variety shows and reruns of 70s samurai movies, instead of 24 hours news coverage.

Last night we had quite a strong tremor around 19.00 which according the the JMA website was felt here in Tokyo as a 3 (on the Japanese scale of 7) with the epicentre in Ibaraki province to the north of Tokyo. For the first time in a week my heart did not leap into my mouth when the bookcase began rattling alarmingly: I take that as a welcome sign that the trauma is beginning to fade and that I will be able to cope with living in an earthquake zone for the next few years! It feels a little like we are living on top of a great sleeping beast that awoke and turned over last Friday, and is now settling back into a fitful slumber. Apparently these little adjustments in the tectonic plates will continue for a while. It is far more dramatic and unnerving when you are in the upper floors of a high-rise, Steve tells me, and you feel the whole building rolling, swaying and twisting, as it is designed to do.

One effect I have noticed since the earthquake is that I have become a little stupid: I have a hard time counting change and have to make people repeat phone numbers twice, can't remember where I left my purse, wallet, keys (that is, worse than my usual forgetfulness - on par with the first blurry months after the arrival of a baby!). My stomach is unsettled and I wake repeatedly at night, sweating, in the grip of  anxiety dreams. All signs that the fear has not yet been eliminated from my system.

However, I feel a change of mood walking around the neighborhood yesterday and today. Whereas early in the week faces were tense and worried, I now see more smiles, and people chatting away with animation. Restaurants are busy. More cars are on the street. If my Japanese neighbours return from Nagoya Monday (a public holiday) it will be a sign that things are returning to normal.

delicious chirashi with extra seafood

We had chirashi-zushi for lunch at our favorite local sushiya-san - arriving early as they had turned us away yesterday at 12:45 because they were too full (the two chefs can't really handle more than 10 people, even though the restaurant sits about 16). So in compensation we got an extra large portion of fish, "from Western Japan and Kyushu," the taisho was quick to specify. He also asked if we had been told by our government to leave (yes on the Swiss side, no on the Australian side, we replied) and thanked us for staying. "I didn't close the restaurant, I'm still working, it's the best I can do to help the country after the earthquake", he said.  This pretty much sums up the attitude of many Japanese.

Because my aunt Nicole requested I say a few words about her, I've included a photo of Gin, my "furry daughter" as the family calls her. I nursed her through several relapses of tick fever (bobesia and erlichia) for an interminable, tearful five months last year, and had resigned myself to her dying when she finally bounced back without the help of medication. We then had to leave her for 6 months at a kennel in Hong Kong in quarantine before she could fly to Tokyo. This little dog has been through a lot in her four years.  So it is an understatement to say that I love her very much.

Gin in a sweater

As I was concerned that it was cold in the kitchen at night with the heat switched off, and since she is probably the only little dog in Tokyo (or Hong Kong) who doesn't own a little Burberry-check coat, I wrapped her up for bed in an old sweater. By morning she had managed to wriggle out of the uncomfortable itchy thing!

The only reaction she has had to the earthquakes is to growl and bark more than usual at noises in and outside the house. It's the noises she notices, not the shaking itself.  I believe the notion that animals can detect earthquakes seconds before they happen has been disproved.

I conclude with a few more pictures of the neighborhood taken with my iphone, as the camera has gone to Perth with Laure.

One of the Buddhist temples in the neighborhood: it's mid-month (full moon day) so a few people were lighting incense and cleaning graves

The shinto shrine

Meguro-ku scouts collecting donations in front of Toritsudaigaku station

Saturday in Meguro-ku photo diary

Today we slept in past 5 am for the first time in a week. Our first task was to go shopping for necessities to send to the quake and tsunami-striken areas where the government is distributing food but basic hygiene products, blankets, warm clothes, etc. are urgently needed. Fidelity will be collecting from employees and then Tokyo municipality will organise shipping and distribution.

 At first the saleswoman at the drugstore said we were limited to two packs of sanitary napkins, but I explained that it was a donation for Tohoku, so it was ok.

 We continued with a walk to Komazawa park so that Gin could play with some pampered poodles and dachsunds.

Amateur league baseball

The yaki-imo guy who always hangs around the park (he has only 3 teeth in his bottom jaw, but has visited Switzerland)

The dog run

Children playing

Fewer joggers than usual, but maybe that's because it's the afternoon

Service stations are still closed

Cup noodles are available again. Not that I ever buy this processed junk.

The schools report

Students at international schools in Tokyo/Yokohama are not complaining about the free extension to spring break since the earthquake - but parents, especially of students in the upper high school years who are due to take exams in the next month or two, are concerned about the effects school closure will have on their education.

In the back of our minds is the question: what will happen if the Fukushima reactors continue to simmer past  the "back to school" date and some families decide not to return to Japan and finish the school year in their home country?

What are the various international schools in Tokyo planning for the next weeks?  What support are they offering students in the interim?  

St Maur International School: scheduled spring break (24/3 to 3/4) has effectively been lengthened by two weeks; back to school on April 4th. Next week International Baccalaureate revision sessions will be organised for Y12s who are still in town, and the library is open to all. Some teachers have sent homework or revision work assignement directly to students, but not all (Sample size  limited to my two children)


Yokohama International School: the two-week long Spring break begins this weekend. School should reconvene on April 4th.

British School: School has been closed this week, and will remain closed until March 28 inclusive of scheduled spring break of one week. The school will provide provide a learning programme of activities and tasks that students can access on line as of Monday 21st. The Shibuya campus library is open during the break.

French School: School remains closed until April 4th. The scheduled spring break in late April-May is shortened to one week (30/4-8/5). French Schools in the region (Hong Kong, Kyoto, Hanoi) are making room for displaced students to continue their education in the interim, as are schools in France. But no support is offered directly by the school to children  remaining in Tokyo. Parents have the option of home schooling through the distance learning programme of CNED.

German school: The school website is currently down. According the school's blog, however, classes are  cancelled until 27/3, woth the possibility of an extension. As in the French case, arrangement have been made with German schools in the Asia region as well as schools in Germany, especially for the year 12-13 students who are preparing the German Abitur to accept students from Tokyo.

ASIJ: Currently classes are scheduled to reconvene on 28/3 after the end of spring break (19-27/3). No other information is available on the public website.

CAJ: Classes reconvene on 4/4 after the scheduled one week spring break (26/3-3/4).  Virtual schooling and limited on-campus activities will continue. Students are getting assignments by email.


Nishimachi: Back to school on Monday 28/3 after the scheduled 1-week spring break.


Sacred Heart: Back to school on Monday 28/3 after the scheduled 1-week spring break. 

K International School: School remains closed until after scheduled 1-week spring break, April 4th. Students will receive homework assignment from teachers online. 
 

Radiation report: some useful websites

Someone passed on to me a short presentation by Tsuneyoshi Kamae, a physicist at SLAC/KIPAC at Stanford University (my alma mater!) with a number of useful links and comments.

It appears from his comments, which I have not reproduced, that even scientists have a hard time understanding some the concepts and units of measure being bandied about, and base their judgments on articles by journalists, which have even less scientific background.

Many of these pages are number-heavy but text-light, so can be read with Google translate.

MIT has set up a good description of the structure of the reactors and expert's analyses on http://mitnse.com/. The eyes do tend to glaze over when reading this, but it is well-written for the average layperson, so worth the effort.

There are many radiation monitoring stations in Japan (on city halls and other institutions), so the reporting is extremely detailed: http://www.mext.go.jp/a_menu/saigaijohou/syousai/1303723.htm. The radiation levels in the area around the Fukushima plant are at the bottom of this Yahoo.jp page.

Based on another set of data (X-Ray spectrum of dust collected in Tsukuba) which only an engineer could love, Prof Tsuneyoshi concludes that "fresh release of radioactive fallout" has stopped since March 15 and that radiation in the atmosphere is likely due to gases (e.g. Krypton) released from spent fuel rods not covered by water. Hence the ongoing efforts to pump water into the reactors.

Pourquoi rester?

Aujourd'hui je vais m'exprimer en français, pour changer !
Mes réservations sont faites, je rejoins les filles à Perth, départ mercredi soir, via HK (mais pas de stopover, désolée les amies).

Je rebondis sur une remarque d'Ines, depuis son hotel d'Osaka, qui fait un travail d'information immense auprès de la communauté française tout en occupant ses enfants, mais qui note que sa décision de ne pas quitter le Japon est condamnée par l'AFJ et l'AFe.

La question que l'on pose nous de façon directe ou indirecte, nous les gaijin qui sommes encore à Tokyo ou au Japon: pourquoi rester si votre présence n'est pas nécessaire?  C'est en gros la teneur des messages que nous recevons de nos ambassades depuis le weekend dernier,  nous enjoignant à quitter la région de Tokyo/Yokohama et les provinces de Nagano et Niigata, et nous offrant une assistance de départ, que ce soit par des vols de ligne pour les Suisses, ou des charters sur Paris au frais de l'état pour les Français. Ces décisions ont été prises sur la base du "principe de précaution", c'est à dire la nécessité d'éviter tout risque, si minime soit-il. Apparemment les assurances du gouvernment japonais, les données des scientifiques qui depuis le début nous répètent que cet incident gravissime ne ressemble en rien à Chernobyl et que Tokyo n'est pas dans la zone à risques, tout cela ne pèse pas lourd.

Pour Steve, c'est simple: le bureau continue de fonctionner "normalement", il tient péniblement la barre (pas tout seul, heureusement), il dirige des équipes encore fragiles suite au traumatisme qu'elles ont vécu -  sa présence est indubitablement nécessaire.

Pour moi, c'est différent: mon travail est portable, et je ne suis nécessaire à personne ici sauf à mon mari et ma chienne, ma famille et mes attaches sont ailleurs. Je consomme inutilement des ressources.  Et je pourrais tout a fait continuer d'être solidaire depuis l'étranger!

Sans aucun doute, si j'avais des jeunes enfants, j'aurais fait assez rapidement le choix de quitter Tokyo. Bon nombre de Tokyoites sont également partis chez des parents à Nagoya ou Osaka; mon amie Ana, par exemple, est chez des amis Japonais à Kyushu avec ses deux jeunes enfants.  N'ayant pas d'amis ou de connaissances ailleurs au Japon, la solution d'un retour au pays aurait été plus pratique que l'hotel indéfiniment à Osaka.

Ma présence n'est pas nécessaire, soit, mais fort appréciée par mon mari (surtout la nuit pour le réchauffer sous la couette car nous ne chauffons plus, par civisme, et il fait 10 degrés dans la chambre le matin!). La chienne, quant à elle, pourrait très bien etre placée chez une amie en attendant que Tokyo revienne à la normale.

Ma présence n'est pas nécessaire, mais elle est fort appréciée par nos amis Japonais, qui sont déroutés et décus par les départs précipités de leurs "foreign guests".  Certaines entreprises ont carrément fermé leur bureaux tokyoites. Des ambassades évacuent leur personnel (et non seulement les familles). A un certain niveau, ces décisions officielles communiquent un manque de confiance et de solidarité envers les autorités et le peuple japonais. Ces derniers sont bien trop polis pour le clamer ouvertement, mais commencent à murmurer leur déception.

Quant à l'argument que je consomme inutilement de précieuses ressources, il faut savoir que la population étrangère de Tokyo de pèse pas très lourd: environ 2.5%, et ce chiffre inclut un grand nombre de Coréens ou Chinois de souche de la 2eme ou 3eme génération.

Le principe de précaution, finalement. J'y adhère en partie, dans la mesure ou j'ai décidé de faire partir les filles. Mais j'ai aussi fait l'effort d'essayer par moi-même d'évaluer les risques que je cours en restant ici, en lisant, en m'informant, en écoutant les infos japonaises, les briefings du premier ministre sur NHK, en consultant mes amies japonaises...

Nous avons une tendance naturelle à surévaluer les risques les plus anxiogènes (le rapt d'enfant, le vol en avion) alors qu'il sont statitisquement moins probables, et de sous-évaluer les risques de tous les jours (traverser la rue, prendre le volant, faire du vélo sans casque). Si c'était le contraire la vie serait impossible.

 Donc voici mes raisons pour rester à Tokyo (mais seulement jusqu'à mercredi soir!):
Je suis utile, sinon nécessaire, à mon mari qui m'en est bien reconnaissant.
Je fais un geste de solidarité avec les Japonais, si petit soit-il.
Mon évaluation des risques est qu'ils sont gérables et je les accepte: le risque 0 n'existe pas. 
Je suis en mesure d'informer et de rassurer quelques personnes de mon petit cercle d'amis et de connaissances sur la situation dans un petit coin de Tokyo.

En retour, les Japonais me donnent  une belle leçon de vie: le sens du devoir et du sacrifice, le refus de baisser les bras, la volonté de continuer à vivre, travailler, aller à l'école meme après un événement traumatisant, le respect de soi et de l'autre y compris dans les circonstances les plus difficiles.

A vous qui en France, à Hong Kong, Singapour, ou autre part, vivez dans le temporaire et l'attente: gambatte!

P.S. ce soir nous nous offrons un bon resto! On n'est pas des saints, quand meme...

Radiation A Concern For Plant Workers, Not Others (NPR)

I heard this reassuring report last night on NPR (via ABC news Australia). 
The workers battling the reactors at Fukushima are making a huge sacrifice in order to keep us safe, and we are infinitely grateful for their sense of duty and their selflessness.  The samourai spirit lives on !

http://www.npr.org/2011/03/17/134608139/radiation-a-concern-for-plant-workers-no\ t-others?sc=tw

Radiation levels in Tokyo on March 16th (yesterday)

A French graduate student at University of Tokyo is keepng the French community updated with the radioactivity readings carried out by the university, independently of figures reported by the government. Here they are:

As part of university-wide measures against radiation, the University has established
the Environmental Radiological Countermeasures Project Team, as a unified University
entity, in order to tackle the current radioactive-related issue facing Japan.
The Project team will be led by Professor Yoichiro Matsumoto, Executive Vice
President.

Latest Radiation Readings(Provisional values)
Date: 3/16

Time Dose-Rate (micro Sv/h)

 0:00   0.09 - -
1:00    0.08 - -
2:00    0.1 - -
3:00    0.14 - -
4:00    0.17 - -
5:00    0.17 - -
6:00    0.18 - -
7:00    0.13 - -
8:00    0.16 - -
9:00    0.13   0.07 -
10:00  0.09   0.08 -
11:00   0.1    0.07 -
12:00  0.09 - -
13:00  0.10 - -
13:30  0.06 -
14:00  0.09 - -
15:00  0.10 0.06 -
16:00  0.09 - -

[Reference]
Radiation dose rate in natural environments; 0.1 – 0.3micro Sv/h
The value in natural environments varies depending on areas or weather conditions.
Areas around some natural spas or granites rocks could show readings of relatively
higher dose rates even though such areas are a natural environment.

There is no need to take any emergency measures at the moment.

Thursday afternoon: cold, clear, quiet

My mood is much more serene now, so sorry for being snappish about emails in my last post. Conversations with friends today have given me a lot of relief.

  It's windy and cold, the sky is clear, and there are flowers blooming in all the gardens: plum, peach, magnolias.
I went out to walk the dog this morning, stopped by the Seijo Ishi supermarket for my favorite coffee and took some pictures of the well stocked shelves: bento, milk, meat, delicacies from all over (below). I treated us to some smoked salmon in addition to the Italian roast. The fridge is full and I really need nothing more.

I then dropped in on Mitsuko for a tea and we talked dogs, families, and the difference in mood and attitude between the different communities. We are both members of the same women's group,  which has been a wonderful source of support, sending around news articles, communiqués from various embassies, suggestions for ways we can help the families up north who are barely surviving.  I then met Keiko for lunch (our comfort food: pad thai!) and more talk about the Japanese /western ways of dealing with a crisis such as this. I'll try to gather my thought on this later.

Jiyugaoka was as you would expect on a thursday noon: the restaurant was full, shops were open, and there were no queues. Perhaps yesterday was particularly perturbed because we had two announcements of power cuts that did not eventuate.

Trains were running on the Toyoko line, including express trains. Some workers appeared to be inspecting the tracks, but to far away to see what exactly they were doing.

On the way back I took pictures of the two shops I photographed yesterday: sans queues. Toilet paper was still a popular item, but no one was waiting for it today. Apparently hoarding of toilet paper occurred   also during the oil shock. Our Toto toilets are so high-tech, however, that they wash and dry our bums with any need for paper, so we are fine even without the soft fluffy stuff, as long as the power stays on.

Now I'm going to do something I've been procrastinating for several months: get my hair cut.

Thursday morning

D'abord mes excuses aux francophones - je continuerai à m'exprimer en anglais, que vous lisez tous étant des personnes cultivées...

The children are in Sydney, much to my relief.  The airport was very busy, with queue forming at least an hour before check-in, but orderly, and flights were leaving on schedule. Many people looked like they had been sleeping in the airport waiting for their flight. They have now arrived in Sydney. I hope to join them in Perth next week.

The Filipinos as usual were returning home with all their worldly possessions in blue and white striped "chinese samsonite" bags (see photo).

Radiation levels in Tokyo are still normal. These readings are being closely monitored by IAEA so they are trustworthy.

I finally got a chance to have a frank conversation with Steve last night.  He is under huge pressure at work: markets are melting, people are melting, the building is shaking at least once an hour. The Japanese staff are like us trying to resist the terrible panic that has spread through the foreign staff, but being irresistibly infected. He spends his time listening to people's worries, trying to support them, but also has to make very tough business decisions. He is coping, and has some strong people working with him, but he cannot cope with the barrage of non-work related emails. So please refrain from emailing him or others in the same situation with your concerns or "get out of there" messages.

Similarly, I am finding it difficult to respond to "how are you coping?" "what are you planning to do?" emails. I know you mean well, but if you really want to help you will not  communicate your worry for us, but only your love, trust and support. If you pray, then do so, we are grateful.

There is a huge and inexplicable divide between the messages we are getting from the Anglo-Saxon embassies and the message we are getting from the European embassies. The former are basically repeating that the situation is serious but this is not Chernobyl, the radiation levels in Tokyo are normal, and at worse we will be told to stay home for a few days. People who lived in Berlin during the Chernobyl crisis remember this is what they were asked to do.

The European embassies (the French and Germans foremost, but now Swiss as well) are organising repatriation flights and basically telling their nationals not only to leave Tokyo but to leave Japan, which is ludicrous.

A reminder: the bombs that fell on Hiroshima did not affect people in Osaka (same distance as we are from Fukushima).  Even in the worst case scenario, it is impossible for deadly levels of radiation to be experienced in Tokyo.  Longer term effects in terms of contamination are a far greater worry and not solved by leaving for a few weeks.

There is a negative feedback loop at the moment with shortages in Tokyo (fuel, food) making it increasingly difficult to send supplies to the areas affected by the tsunami. We are asked to reduce our consumption.  Certain shelves in shops are bare, but there is still plenty of fresh food, meat, vegetables. We are not going to starve. Long queues in front of the corner drugstore: people are hoarding toilet paper and tissues. Queues form also outside Tokyu supermarket, which has limited trading hours because of announced power shortages, which in fact have not occurred in our neighborhood.

Going to walk the dog, admire the plum blossoms blooming everywhere under a blue Tokyo spring sky.

queuing for toilet paper

queuing in front of the supermarket, waiting for it to open at 12.

Children leaving this evening

I forgot to mention it in my last post, Amira and Laure are leaving at 20.00 this evening (Wednesday) to Sydney, where they will be staying with the Willems (Amira and Alice are over the moon to see each other again). Laure will fly Perth on Saturday and stay with Grandma and Grandpa and the gang of cousins.  Amira will stay in Sydney and visit art schools (which was the plan anyway for Spring break, week after next) then join her sister in Perth midweek. I hope I can come and join them around the 25th for a much-needed holiday.

Steve has gone to  battle again this morning on the financial markets. The big worry apart from the crash of the Japanese market is the strengthening of the Yen - completely counter-intuitive.  He has explained to me why, but it's a little like nuclear science, in one ear, rattled around a bit in the brain setting off a few dim sparks of comprehension, and out the other ear, leaving total darkness behind.

This afternoon we will be either travelling to or waiting at the airport. My Baba (grandfather) used to insist on getting to the airport at least 3 hours before the flight;  after laughing about this quirky habit for decades, I think today I will follow his sage advice.

Wednesday: all quiet but still shaking

We had a rather strong shaking last night 22.32. If you want to know exactly when and where we are being rumbled by mother earth, check the website of the Japan Meteorological Agency,
http://www.jma.go.jp/en/quake/quake_singen_index.html

As you can see it doesn't ever really stop. We don't feel them all. But once in a while the floor sways and you stop to listen for the telltale creaks in the walls.

None of us still sleeping in Tokyo are getting more than about 6 hours (I can tell from the time-stamp of the emails!).  But we have shelter, electricity, hot showers, pantries full of food, electricity all day long (no cuts in my neighborhood so far), plenty of toilet paper (don't laugh, this is what everyone seems to be buying in truckloads - nothing worse for human dignity than having to wipe your backside with old newspapers). 

Hundreds of thousands around Sendai do not enjoy these comforts, and are grieving for their dead, their lost homes, and all the memories they contained.  

The climate I feel is shifting from shock to fear to sadness. We have been so preoccupied with particles of radioactive dust that might fall on us (and by the way, that can be dealt with by showering) that we have lost perspective on the real human tragedy. If I am just trembling each time a tremor shakes our solid, earthquake-proof house, then I am one of the lucky ones.

I watched a Japanese new program last night, which attempted to explain the issues at the Fukushima plant and the information about radiation measurements in Sieverts (Sv).  As always, once we venture into numbers with a lot of zeros it becomes a challenge to anyone but an engineer who has this hardwired in her brain. The confusion is compounded by the fact that the radiation recorded over Tokyo was in microsieverts, whereas near the plant it recorded in millisieverts, simply because numbers like 0.0004 are unwieldy:

1 Sv = 1000 mSv (millisieverts) = 1,000,000 μSv (microsieverts)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sievert

It helps to draw up a simple table, like the one you would use to convert cubic meters to cubic cm or cubic mm. If this is wrong, engineer friends, then please correct me!

SV			mSv			μSv
1	0	0	0	0	0	0
			1	0	0	0