"Osaka? Why didn't you tell me about this? I'm responsible for the whereabouts of this institute's employees, you know."
After receiving this e-mail, I started churning out apology letters to my bosses. Since losing many foreign employees to fear of radiation fallout, they had been counting on me to set a better example. Instead, I made a last-minute decision to evacuate my Tokyo home of two years.
The truth is, I had no intention of leaving Tokyo on March 18 for a long weekend in Osaka, where I observed the crisis from a safe distance, a reluctant "fly-jin" (apparently what they call us) taking advantage of a distant perch. In my layman's judgment, at 225 km from the Fukushima No. 1 plant, Tokyo was far enough away from the unfolding nuclear disaster for me to feel secure. But it was the seven or so phone calls I received the day before from my parents — who nearly broke down in disbelief that I would be risking my life for my job and my adopted country — that made me reconsider.