On the outside, the Fukushima nuclear power plant has had a major face-lift since the 2011 nuclear disaster.
The reality inside and underground, however, is much different — and if a similar situation happened on American soil, it would take decades to fix.
A stylish new office building was the first thing that came into view during a tour for foreign media last month. Another building has a cafeteria and a convenience store.
The way the area is dressed up, it’s easy to forget you’re in the official no-go nuclear radiation zone, where access is restricted over deadly health concerns.
When first walking through there are automated security checks and radiation measurement at the new building, where 1,000 employees of Tokyo Electric Power Co.’s decommissioning unit work.
Visitors no longer must put on hazmat suits and full-face charcoal-filter masks, or plastic shoe covers, unless they are going to highly contaminated areas. Still, safety gear must be put on: a helmet, double socks, cotton gloves, surgical mask, goggles, and a vest with a personal dosimeter.
There is little outward reminder of the devastation from 6 years earlier. The highly contaminated debris and mangled vehicles are gone. The feeble-looking plastic hoses mended with tape and the outdoor power switchboard that rats got into, once causing a blackout, have been replaced with proper equipment.
A new curved cover has been built over the Unit 3 reactor, whose roof was blown off, leaving a mess of girders, concrete and cables. A horizontal smudge high up on a nearby waste-storage building marks the height of the tsunami: 17 meters, or 56 feet.
The 900 huge tanks built to store a growing volume of deadly radioactive water tower over visitors. A water management team monitored the contaminated water at what was once the crisis command center.
The tanks underscore the challenges that remain to stop the radioactive leaks in the basements of the reactor buildings, where the water collects, and deep inside the three reactors that had meltdowns.
Remote-controlled robots provided a limited view of the melted fuel earlier this year, in areas where it is still too dangerous for humans to go. The exact location of the fuel remains largely unknown. It was an early step in the still-uncertain, decades long plan to decommission the plant.
Signs of radioactive devastation are still evident.
Scientists discovered in recent months that a previously unsuspected place is a source for radiation — in sands and brackish groundwater beneath beaches as far as 60 miles away.
Although people may not be exposed to, nor drink from these beaches’ water, scientists have said that only time will finally remove the radioactive material from the sands.
The Associated Press contributed to this article.