Issue link: https://bluemagazine.uberflip.com/i/24995
Of the hundreds of earthquakes that strike Ja of sake. But the 7.2 pummel ing of Kobe on Januar footage each year, most barely cause a ripple in a cup , 1995, shook more es spawne wi espread tremorphobia. Tokyo residents, whose hometown straddles three active fault lines, feel particularly vulnerable. More th n two years after the Kobe disaster, predicting the next "Big One" is still a hot conversation topic. If a city cou spea , 0 0 would chant, "We're next." Tokyo's Earthqu ke Science Hall is created by a culture that commemorates its tragedies by memo rted fetuses to parasites. A museum devoted to damage control, it has attract rializing everything from ed a tsunami of new visitor since Kobe. But touring the government-owned museum does little to soothe one's fears. Typical guests are members of the local knitting club: a gaggle of middle-aged suburban house wives clad in flowery blous s and brightly-colored polyester pants. They peruse videos, charts and maps forecasting Tokyo's impend ng doom, before meandering through a photography show recounting the last "Big One," a devastating 1 23 quake of 7.9 magnitude that killed over 140,000 people. A security guard tnen herds the group into he Experimental Room," which the museum advertises as the place to "experi ence the smoke of fires an the tremors of an earthquake ... [to] get a feel for the horror people go through in a real disaster." Waiting ervously, the women remove their shoes and gingerly climb a few steps to enter "Earthquake Corner,· a fa x three-room apartment programmed to reproduce Japan's most frightening quakes. Kneeling in silenc practicing Zen meditation structure begins to shudde The passengers, h the floor. Another's specta simulator's locomotive-like utes of tremors, the · survi Making room for t tails, the adults are whiske blindly crawl through a cra each woman leaves the fa After receiving basic traini The museum's dir ues the rigorous drills as a own home against earthqu laments, "mine is wood-it on the floor of the tractor-trailer-size simulator, the women look as if they're ther than awaiting its antithesis. "Okay, ready for 1923?" warns the guard. The Moments later, it lurches to and fro like a chaotic amusement park ride. wever, are not amused. One woman's camera flies off a dresser and crashes to es drop from her face. Several others huddle underneath the kitchen table. The oar all but drowns out its occupants high-pitched shrieks. After about two min rs" stumble out, relieved and sweaty. e dozen uniformed schoolchildren awaiting their turn to become human cock off to the next circle of preparedness hell. In the "Smoke Room," the women ped, cloudy chamber that replicates a blaze. One by one groping for the exit, gy room coughing and disheveled, a dainty handkerchief pressed to her face. in first aid, the exhausted visitors retreat to the safety of their mini-bus. ctor, Mitsuo Ono, downplays the discomfort that his guests may suffer. He val ress rehearsal for catastrophes to come. When asked how he has protected his es, Mr. Ono seems resigned to fate. "I'm too poor to build a strong house," he ill probably crumble when the Big One hits!" -David Wallis The Earthquake Science Hall at the Kita City Disaster Prevention Center, 2-16 Nishigahara, Kita-ku 114, Tokyo (011) 813 3940-1811. Admission is free. ion