For centuries, Japan had operated on the unvoiced logic that the only certainty in this world is disaster — specifically, tensai (天災, heavenly disaster). Four centuries ago, Edo (江戸, Old Tokyo) citizens said to each other that they had four major things to fear: jishin (地震, earthquakes), kaminari (雷, lightning), kaji (火事, fire) and oyaji (親父, fathers). These four were the major culprits to wreak havoc but at the same time there was little anyone could do to prevent them. Jishin heads off the list as a matter of course — accordingly, Tokyoites approach earthquakes with a particular mindset.
First off, they are prepared. As soon as Tokyo children can walk, they become equipped with a bōsai zukin (防災頭巾, safety hood) to ward off flames and flying debris, and a small rucksack packed with emergency food, bottled water, a towel and first-aid paraphernalia. And when they mature into adulthood, they know that a good employer always keeps stocks of these hoods for its employees. When the devastating quake struck Japan on Friday, many men and women started their long walk home wearing them.
Speaking of walking, many Tokyo companies assume there will be a time when trains stop, the subways close down and employees will have to walk. There's a word for such people, kitaku konansha (帰宅困難者, those who have difficulty making it back home), and employees are encouraged to participate in simulation drills (sponsored by the company but more often by the Metropolitan Government) where everyone gathers at a preordained meeting spot (the favored choice is around the Imperial Palace) on a weekend, and walk their way back carrying emergency backpacks. The distance varies between 15 and 21 km — this will usually take people out of the city and into the suburbs of Chiba or Saitama prefectures, where they live. Last Friday, the streets were full of kitaku konansha, but it was indicative of the Tokyo disaster psychology that a lot of the ippai nomiya (一杯呑みや, drinking bars) and yakitori stalls in and around major train station terminals were open late into the night, catering to people who didn't or couldn't make it back on foot, but chose to get plastered and immerse themselves in grilling fumes. Great move.