Аркадиуш Поднесински отправился на место ядерной катастрофы в Фукусим
В прошлом месяце польский фотограф Аркадиуш Поднесински отправился на место ядерной катастрофы в Фукусиму, чтобы увидеть последствия собственными глазами. Он получил разрешение на въезд в 20 км зону отчуждения, и когда попал туда, его взору открылись невероятные сцены, подобные кадрам из постапокалиптического фильма. «Не землетрясения или цунами, а люди виноваты в аварии на атомной электростанции Фукусима» — пишет Поднесински. Цель его фото-проекта представить последствия как есть. «Люди должны иметь право сделать собственные выводы, не будучи под влиянием СМИ, правительственной пропаганды, или ядерных лоббистов, которые пытаются приуменьшить масштабы катастрофы.»
They are becoming a permanent part of the Fukushima landscape.
Dump sites with sacks of contaminated soil are usually located on arable land. To save space they are stacked in layers, one on top of the other.
Millions of sacks. Aerial view.
The decontamination work does not stop at removal of contaminated soil. Towns and villages are being cleaned as well, methodically, street by street and house by house. The walls and roofs of all the buildings are sprayed and scrubbed. The scale of the undertaking and the speed of work have to be admired. One can see that the workers are keen for the cleaning of the houses to be completed and the residents to return as soon as possible.
One of thousands of dump sites with sacks of radioactive soil
By hand, the roofs of all the buildings are cleaned one by one
What the workers, and in fact the government financing their work, want to achieve is not necessarily what the residents themselves want. The contaminated land is not reused, and doesn’t even leave the zone. It is only transported out of the town often not beyond the outskirts. This expensive operation is only the shifting of the problem from one place to another, just so long as it is outside of the town to which residents are soon to return.
It is still not clear where the contaminated waste will end up, especially as the residents protest against long-term dump sites being located near their homes. They are not willing to sell or lease their land for this purpose. They do not believe the government’s assurances that in 30 years from now the sacks containing the radioactive waste will be gone. They are worried that the radioactive waste will be there forever.
Remains of destruction in the aftermath of the tsunami. A photograph from the school’s observation tower.
Abandoned vehicles. They can’t be removed until the owners give their consent. In the background the hills to which the schoolchildren escaped.
The music room
School computers
Children’s musical instruments
One of the classrooms on the first floor in the school. There is still a mark below the blackboard showing the level of the tsunami wave. On the blackboard in the classroom are words written by former residents, schoolchildren and workers in an attempt to keep up the morale of all of the victims, such as / we will be reborn / we can do it, Fukushima! / stupid TEPCO / we were rivals in softball, but always united in our hearts! / We will definitely be back! / Despite everything now is precisely the beginning of our rebirth / I am proud to have graduated from the Ukedo primary school / Fukushima is strong / Don’t give up, live on! / Ukedo primary school, you can do it! / if only we could return to our life by the sea / it’s been two years now and Ukedo primary school is the same as it was on 11 March 2011, this is the beginning of a rebirth./
Medals and other trophies won by children at the school
Gymnasium
Finally we visit Masami Yoshizawa’s farm, who, like Matsumura, returned to his ranch shortly after the disaster to take care of the abandoned animals. Yoshizawa’s story is more interesting, however. Not long after the accident his cows started to get mysterious white spots on their skin. Yoshizawa suspects that this is due to the cows eating contaminated grass. He is trying to publicise the case, he is in contact with the media, and protests in front of the Japanese parliament, even taking one of his cows. Unfortunately, apart from financial support and regular testing of the cows’ blood, there is no one who is willing to finance more extensive tests.
There are currently approximately 360 cattle on Masami Yoshizawa’s farm. The cracks in the earth were caused by the earthquake.
One of the cows with spots on its skin
Another cow with spots, inside the cowshed
Namie at dusk. Despite the area being totally deserted the traffic lights and streetlamps still work.
FUTABA
Another week of waiting and finally I receive the permit to go to Futaba, another town in the no-go zone. This town, which borders the ruined power station, is the town with the highest level of contamination in the zone. There has not been any clearing up or decontamination due to the radiation being too high. For this reason we are also issued with protective clothing, masks, and dosimeters.
The checkpoint in front of the Fukushima II power station. In the background a building of one of the reactors.
Deserted streets in Futaba
Go-Kart racing track
The town’s close ties with the nearby power station are not just a question of the short distance between them. Next to the main road leading to the town centre I come across a sign across the street, and in fact it is a slogan promoting nuclear energy, saying „Nuclear energy is the energy of a bright future” – today it is an ironic reminder of the destructive effects of using nuclear power. A few hundred metres further on there is a similar sign.
A message of propaganda above one of the main streets of Futaba – „Nuclear energy is the energy of a bright future”
Second message of propaganda – „Local nuclear energy guarantees a lively future”
While I am in Futaba I am accompanied by a married couple, Mitsuru and Kikuyo Tani (aged 74 and 71), who show me the house from which they were evacuated. They visit it regularly but due to the regulations they can do this a maximum of once a month, and only for a few hours at a time. They take advantage of these opportunities even though they gave up hope of returning permanently a long time ago. They check to see if the roof is leaking and whether the windows have been damaged by the wind or wild animals. If necessary they make some minor repairs. Their main reason for returning however is sentimental and the attachment they feel to this place. A yearning for the place in which they have their origins and spent their entire lives.
Kikuyo Tani in front of the entrance to her house
The guest room
When visiting Futaba, which borders the damaged nuclear power station Fukushima I, I can’t help but try to photograph the main culprit of the nuclear disaster, but unfortunately all of the roads leading to the power station are closed and are heavily guarded. With a little ingenuity one can see it, however. But first I go to see a nearby school.
A school in Futaba. A dosimeter showing a radiation level of (2,3 uSv/h)
Musical instruments left behind
Musical instruments left behind
The damaged Fukushima I power station
When leaving the red zone there is a compulsory dosimeter checkpoint.
Dosimeter checkpoint
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