At 2:47pm on Friday March 11, Naho Hashimoto sat in a meeting in Yodoyabash, Japan. For over two minutes the earth rattled beneath her feet. She recounts, “You know as Japanese, we are pretty used to earthquakes. But this time it was unusual because the shake went on and on.” By the time the shaking had ceased, tsunami warnings were already in effect for the Tohoku area. She watched in horror as the 30-foot high waves relentlessly pummeled the north east of the country. She continues, “We were just all stunned, no one said anything because we couldn't believe what was going on.”

Measuring 9.0 on the USGS Richter scale, the earthquake was the fifth largest in the world, and the strongest earthquake ever to hit Japan. It sent tsunami waves surging and receding across the Pacific Ocean within no more than a few hours. The world woke up that Friday to the front-page headlines announcing the most devastating disaster to face this modern, wealthy nation since World War 2. And this was just the beginning.

Japan grappled with the debilitating natural disaster that demolished entire coastal villages, left over 7,000 dead with 10,000 still unaccounted for, and displaced over 500,000 residents. Yet there was more chilling news as nuclear reactor malfunctions began to emerge. Day by day, the situation was worsening as the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power plant struggled to control four of its six reactors, as their cooling generators failed. Despite the rush of aid from the US with coolant, the reactors have faced meltdowns, hydrogen gas explosions, and the release of radiation into the air and ocean. The Times quoted Japanese Prime Minister, Naoto Kan, as stating that this was Japan’s “worst crisis since the War”.

Through all of the ongoing turmoil and destruction, the Japanese have remained remarkably calm, collected, and resilient. Photographs capture long, orderly queues for supplies and glimpses of smiles among displaced residents who have lost everything. The word gaman is perhaps the best way to describe Japan's ability to handle such uncontrollable chaos without complaint or recrimination. Fumiko Narumi-Munro, Language Instructor in Japanese at Edinburgh University’s School of Asian Studies explains that “Gaman is a noun that means endurance, perseverance, self-restraint, and self control.” She continues, “It requires a lot of strong will with a selflessness that puts others first. Those who are suffering a shortage of food still manage to share a little of what they have, sometimes giving it to minors like children or elderly people despite being hungry themselves.”

In a country plagued by earthquakes, typhoons, tsunamis, and volcanoes there is a sense that Japan has a co-existence with nature which, in turn, creates a strong sense of community among its people. Years of such destruction and rebirth has molded the country's culture and psyche. “We have a culture of gaman, which I think helps us maintain sanity in this insane situation,” Naho explains, “I feel a very strong sense of unity and solidarity among the Japanese both where I am and from the videos of the affected areas. Many of us are trying to do what we can to help.” She explains, “There is a strong sense of confidence, too, I think amongst us in that we can handle this as a nation and rebuild it once more.”

The government has appeared to respond accordingly to such a catastrophic disaster, setting up aid, deploying search and rescue teams, and calling on international support. Fumiko, and many other worldwide onlookers think this situation has been “handled very well by the government as well as the international aid: no panic, no chaos”. Although this is not the view of everyone and anger is rising in those who are actually experiencing the crisis first hand.

There is the perception that the government is not acting fast enough. For a nation willing to persevere stoically and silently, the lack of basic services reaching northern communities and the slow response to the nuclear crisis coming from an already unpopular and unstable government is leading to a breaking point.

The slow response to the current crisis echoes that of the Kobe quake in 1995 which caused frustrations with the leadership of the country. The failing nuclear plant adds stress to an already delicate situation and stretches thegovernment even thinner. There is a shortage of body bags and increasingly widespread evacuation areas and now radiation caused by man-made nuclear power plants has entered the equation. “[Gaman] doesn't really apply to the response to the government” says Naho, “there's a difference between the natural disaster and the government's ineffectiveness in handling the situation. People make it clear that they can't take it anymore.”

The response to the nuclear disaster is creating a media firestorm as it surrounds the heroes of the nuclear meltdown crisis which includes 180 employees volunteering to enter the radiation-exposed facilities in hopes of remedying the plant’s failures. Publications such as The Guardian, The Telegraph and BBC pen these workers as an “elite team”, a “new band of heroes”, the “Fukushima 50”. In Japan, the story is different: Naho had never heard of the titles given to these workers who are willing to die in efforts to save their nation.

But it does not surprise her that they are prepared to die as she stresses that this is their job, this is their country. She believes the name must have come from foreign media sources. “The Japanese media isn't spending much time talking about the "Fukushima 50". I think they are simply volunteering out of feelings of responsibility.” She states “It's as if they are doing what they are expected to do.” This is a common attitude in Japan, the strength of a nation illustrates a willingness to sacrifice oneself for the greater good of the country, all with an unwavering stare. “It takes time for Japan to recover, but I am sure they can,” reassures Fumiko, “My thoughts are with all Japanese people.”

On campus, there are ways of aiding Japan. Fumiko is planning the Love from Edinburgh fundraising event, set to take place March 25 from 4-7pm at Adam House Theatre. Fumiko explains that “Asian Studies host a performance event by students of Chinese and Japanese studies every year. We have decided to repeat it for fundraising. Luckily the University offered a great venue and equipment for free and a lot of students and staff offered help and support, so we would like to thank all of them.”

She remains modest, “We don't know how much we can raise, but we hope we'll have a good audience.” This event is organised by the students and staff in the Asian Studies department. People throughout the University have also initiated Facebook groups such as UK for Japan and Edinburgh for Japan to highlight the importance of aid. Fukimo's efforts are impressive as she states “that all the money will be donated to British Red Cross with help from EUSA.” There are also alternatives to attending the event as it is possible to donate funds through the University in conjunction with the Japan Earthquake Relief Fund. This sends donations to the Japanese Red Cross Society through their website;japanearthquakerelieffund.jimdo.com/

Beneath unfaltering gaman and idealised tenacity lies a stoic nation quietly asking for additional help. “The image and the confidence in my country have been shattered by this experience. I don't see where this country is going and what to expect,” admits Naho, “But it really brings me tears that everyone abroad is so kind to help us in such a dreadful time.”