By Issei Kato

“Let’s put our hearts together and keep going, Fukushima!” reads a large banner that hangs across a large steel structure that stands next to the No. 4 reactor building at Tokyo Electric Power Co’s Fukushima nuclear power plant.

The plant was overwhelmed by a massive tsunami and earthquake two years ago, triggering hydrogen explosions and a nuclear meltdown.

I was at the Fukushima site for the second time on Wednesday, ahead of the two year anniversary of the March 11 tsunami and earthquake, as a pool photographer, taking pictures of the crippled plant on behalf of foreign media based in Japan. This time, I was struck by how many more workers were on-site and the large number of tanks filled with contaminated water scattered around the area.

Tepco let reporters get closer to the damaged reactor buildings, allowing me to photograph laborers in stifling protective gear, standing at the top of destroyed buildings. I was also able to photograph inside the Common Pool Building, a site where Tepco plans to transfer fuel rods from Reactor 4 later this year, the first step of a decades-long battle to decommission the plant.

Around 3,000 workers, all wearing multiple layers of protective suits and gas masks, are on site daily, constructing buildings, surveying the site and building water tanks. A recent Reuters story showed how some front-line workers at Fukushima are suffering stress and anxiety, amid decreasing pay. Around 70 percent of workers surveyed by Tepco late last year said they made more than 837 yen ($9) per hour, while a day laborer in that part of Japan can earn as much as 1,500 yen per hour.

It is difficult to say how Tepco and the government will continue to attract workers to the site. Tepco plant manager Takeshi Takahashi told reporters on Wednesday it will be a “considerable time” before the plant will be decommissioned and that requires thousands of laborers at a time when public opinion remains divided on the future of nuclear power.

“This day finally came.”

That was my first impression when I was chosen as a pool photographer on behalf of foreign media based in Japan to visit the tsunami-crippled Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant.

We were allowed to enter the plant last Monday, ahead of Japan’s one-year anniversary of the earthquake and tsunami, which triggered the world’s worst nuclear crisis since Chernobyl. The media tour was the first to take place since the Japanese government announced in December that reactors at the plant had reached a stage of cold shutdown. We were allowed to cover not just from inside a bus, but from a certain outlying spot close to a reactor building for 15 minutes.

The pictures and TV footage of the explosion at Fukushima Daiichi that followed the disaster had filled me with fear. Although the government and the plant operator Tokyo Electric Power Co (TEPCO) had explained at the time, that it was a “hydrovolcanic explosion” we had witnessed, the blast appeared more like the explosion of the atomic reactor itself. “Can we keep on living in this country?” “Would this incident end up forcing Tokyo and nearby residents to abandon home to escape?” I can easily recall the fears I felt at the time of the explosion.

When I received the offer to do this assignment, honestly, I struggled against a feeling of fear, thinking about its potential risk. But then I recalled the reason why I chose the job of a news photographer. A key motivation was that I wanted to be “an eyewitness of the historical moment.” I just could not refuse the offer and decided to take the opportunity to enter Japan’s ground zero.

During the tour, we were strictly required to wear a full-face mask, protective suits, shoe covers, and globe, and carry an alarm pocket dosimeter (APD). We also had to receive a screening test and a white blood cell scanning test before and after the tour. Frankly speaking, it was not at all a perfect condition to take pictures, with a full-face mask which made me feel unbearably hot. Camera equipment was also required to be wrapped by plastic bags to avoid radioactive contamination. A goggle with the full-face mask was misted due to sweat and humidity, which occasionally made it difficult to see anything in the viewfinder.

Aside from tireless debate over the pros and cons of Japan’s nuclear and energy policy, and the status of TEPCO and its plant workers, I only would like obediently to express my thanks to the plant workers, who have made incredible efforts to cope with the crisis under horrible conditions. On top of the radiation fears, their operation must have been a lot more difficult during summer season. I want to help out the best I can – by taking pictures and reporting the status of the crisis.

]]> http://blogs.reuters.com/isseykato/2012/02/22/a-visit-to-fukushima-ground-zero/feed/ 0 http://blogs.reuters.com/photographers-blog/2012/01/31/fukushimas-invisible-fear/ http://blogs.reuters.com/isseykato/2012/01/31/fukushimas-invisible-fear/#comments Tue, 31 Jan 2012 18:07:02 +0000 Issei Kato http://blogs.reuters.com/isseykato/2012/01/31/fukushimas-invisible-fear/ By Issei Kato

The 20 km (12 mile) zone around Japan’s crippled Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant is now a virtual ghost town after being evacuated of residents due to radiation. I asked a friend, who was forced by the disaster to leave the area and has been searching for a way to resume work, for help, and was able to enter the area where he used to live.

The massive 9.0 magnitude earthquake and tsunami on March 11, 2011 triggered the world’s worst nuclear accident in 25 years and forced residents around the plant to flee, leaving behind in many cases their household belongings or pets. The triple whammy is still forcing more than 150,000 people from Fukushima prefecture to take refuge, nearly half of them from the no-go zone.

When entering the zone by car, I could see houses and shops destroyed by the earthquake. Traffic signals along the street were blinking yellow but there was no one around. Instead of residents, groups of cows which escaped from farms clopped along the street or in the gardens of houses. There was no sound of cars or people on a shopping street, only the noise of the wind and the bawling of cows.

Districts near the coast were badly affected by the tsunami and there is still a lot of debris: destroyed houses, cars, boats. A child’s abandoned bicycle and wheelchairs at a nursing home showed, I thought, how residents had to leave in a tremendous hurry in the aftermath of the unexpected accident.

Occasionally, cats dashed away from me or watched our car pull away on a street inside the zone. In the haste and confusion of evacuating thousands of people, hundreds of dogs and cats were left behind. Ten months on from the disaster, the pet rescue group UKC Japan has saved over 250 dogs and 100 cats from the zone, and are still looking for others. Rescued pets are taken back to the group’s pet shelter south of Tokyo until their families are found.

By chance, I met a resident who was making a brief visit to the home he was evacuated from in Namie town, inside the exclusion zone. At a glance, his house did not appear heavily damaged. But when he checked the radiation level around his home with his own radiation counter, my thinking changed.

The meter started to beep loudly and its alert LED started to blink. The closer he moved the counter to the ground surface, the more the radiation level increased. Finally, the radiation monitor indicated 85.1 microsieverts per hour in a gully, the highest level I have experienced to date.

I was reminded that radiation is an “Invisible Fear”. We immediately left that hot spot. When I thought of the resident, who once again had to abandon his home and his home town, I felt sad.

The Japanese government said in December it would draw up new evacuation zones by the end of April, and areas where annual radiation levels are currently higher than 50 millisieverts would be deemed unsuitable for living for at least five years.

I pray that this tragedy can be eased soon and all the evacuees can go back to their radiation-free homes and all the pets can see their family someday soon.

Kawauchi village is one of the cities, towns and villages designated by the government in late April as a legally binding no-entry zone within a 20km (12 miles) radius of the plant.

Clad from head to toe in white protective suits, they got off the buses and received a screening test for signs of nuclear radiation at a village gymnasium after a two-hour trip inside the no-entry zone.

Each clutched a large plastic bag provided beforehand — a quota had been placed on the amount of belongings that could be salvaged. Most were filled with clothing but included photos and stuffed toy animals. Some residents salvaged bank statements or certifications of mutual aid association. I had the sense that the situation occurred suddenly and brought about unexpected change in their lives.

Some residents feared they may never be able to go back.

Some of the residents took bags of pet food into the village to help their animal companions survive until their next visit.

Journalists covering inside and around the zone were also required to wear the protective suits and carry equipment provided by government or police.

There was not a single minute while shooting in the no-entry zone that I wasn’t thinking; if a strong earthquake hit the region again causing catastrophic trouble to the plant, damage to the telecommunication facility, road collapse, missing the route; if suddenly the plant went out of control…

Whether we had to wear the protective suits or not – we now carry Geiger counters, protective suits, masks, goggles, shoe covers, satellite phones, walkie-talkies, wet-tissues, plastic bags along with the usual camera equipment and laptop since the March 11 earthquake and tsunami. I found myself getting a little nervous despite the background radiation levels during Tuesday’s events being low.

Excessive equipment? I don’t think so. I’m being safe and concentrating on the way I cover the story because I am not an expert in radiation.

The Japanese government delayed the decision expected on Thursday on a plan to help Tokyo Electric pay compensation for damage from the nuclear crisis in Fukushima but I pray the crisis can be eased soon and all the evacuees can go back to their home someday soon.