The Importance of Light

The Importance of Light

A crystal-bead class in Iwate helps hope glimmer

By

Originally published on metropolis.co.jp on January 2013

This is the third installment in our series of Tohoku stories focusing on families and friends rebuilding their lives and community.

Winter months pose a particular challenge in Tohoku. Holiday lights and decorations gone, we’re left with short days and long, cold nights. Icy streets keep most indoors. There’s a sense of sadness and stagnation in the air. Spring will come, we know—but it seems to take forever.

Enter a group of women and girls determined to bring light.

Before the tsunami hit on March 11, a group of women in Ofunato decided to start a beading class. They lined up a teacher and were set. Then the tsunami washed away their homes. The group never got off the ground.

Fast forward sixteen months.The women, all living in temporary housing, regroup and choose to go on with beading. Now missing their teacher they gather together teaching each other how to bend wires, string beads, and clamp o-rings.

“We’d buy beads online when we could,” says Kumiko Sato. “We didn’t have anything to sell in the beginning. It was all we could do buy enough to practice with because it felt like such a luxury to spend money on this.”
Kumiko shows me flat, pink boxes filled with beads of all shapes and hues. I pick one up and squint at it. It’s small. Putting it back down, I reach for the octagonal crystals.

“These are pretty.”

“Right? They’re Swarovski,” she tells me, naming the crystal giant. I look up at her, idea hatched and ready.

“You should write to them. Tell them what you’re doing.”

Kumiko looks dumbfounded.

“Seriously. Tell them you buy their crystals, use them to make charms to sell.” I lean in closer. “It’s a big deal what you’re doing here. You’re taking steps to move forward. They should know, Kumiko.”

A week later, Kumiko comes to me with a letter and a sheepish look. She hands me a sheet of paper. “Read it.” I do.

The letter is beautiful, a report of what happened on the day they lost everything, combined with how they use the Swarovski crystals and how much the money from the sales means to these women. I translate it and send it to the Tokyo Office of Swarovski.

A week later, she receives a reply hand-written by the managing director. He’s encouraging, offering kind words. He says just what these women need to hear. Kumiko is giddy, her hands flittering, her voice high-pitched as she repeats, “I can’t believe he wrote back!” We compose another letter, one specifying what they need.

“May we have any remnants of crystals you cannot use,” Kumiko writes, looking up with each phrase asking, “Can I say this?” We soon have a letter.

They replied—and sent 100 crystals. The women got back to work—fast—fingers flying, bending and twisting wires, tweezing and hooking clasps.

Soon they recruit their daughters who write personal messages to each square sheet attached to the sun-catcher they’ve decided to call Fukko no Hikari (The Light of Recovery). “We want to say, ‘Thank you,’” Akane says.

Women taking leadership is a big deal in Tohoku communities where most girls grow up dreaming of becoming a bride and having lots of kids. “I can’t wait for my wedding,” is a phrase I have heard over and over from girls as well as young women. Many men aren’t fond of women showing initiative, preferring they stay home and mind the hearth. There’s risk involved in what Kumiko and her friends are doing: projects started by women are targets for criticism, and this is where the donation from Swarovski carries weight. Word has spread of course, of the generosity of this foreign company as well as the bravery of women who took charge and went for it. People are curious. The charms are selling like crazy.

When darkness envelopes us by 4:30pm up north, bringing a night that seems to go on forever, light and color take on more meaning. Charms made by women in temporary housing in Ofunato catch the sunlight, streaming rainbows to all who stand nearby. I’m one of the fortunate ones, driving through town catching rays of blue, green, purple, orange and red reflecting off some passerby’s charm. Bathed in this light, the day feels a bit warmer, and spring feels nearer.

The Light of Recovery charms are available at http://meturl.com/light