June 21, 2024

When I visited Fumonji Temple in Rikuzentakata, the first thing I noticed wasn’t the temple itself- it was the quiet hillside filled with stone figures. Scattered across the slope were rows of small statues, each hand-carved by survivors and visitors. They’re called the 500 Rakan, a project started after the 2011 earthquake and tsunami. Every summer, people return to carve more, some in memory of loved ones, others simply to calm their thoughts.

As I walked through them, I kept stopping to look more closely. One had a soft smile, another looked like it was deep in thought. A few had no expression at all. No two were the same, and I started to wonder the story and feelings behind each statue. The light came through the trees in patches, catching on their faces and shoulders. 

The rakan weren’t lined up or organized in any obvious way. They were just there, close together, facing different directions. It didn’t feel like I was in a place of mourning. It felt more like I was surrounded by people sitting quietly with their thoughts.