For Boston-area residents with ties to the Japanese island of Kyushu, Facebook notifications have brought a mix of relief and terror. Friends and loved ones who survived two deadly earthquakes Thursday and Saturday have checked in “safe,’’ but they also told harrowing stories: how they thought they would die, how they escaped.

“It was terrifying, knowing that I had so many people over there who were experiencing it firsthand,’’ said Elissa Badique of Cambridge, who lived for three years in Kumamoto prefecture and left behind friends who had grown close as family. “Let’s hope everybody gets in contact soon.’’

By Saturday, the death toll from the quakes and the continual aftershocks had reached 41, with about 2,000 more injured, and rescue crews were searching for survivors amid the rubble. The earthquakes knocked down homes, buckled roads, and caused landslides. More than 100,000 homes were left without electricity.

“It’s so painful,’’ said Mika Stoltzman, a musician who grew up in Kumamoto and now lives in Winchester with her husband and fellow musician, Richard Stoltzman. “Shrines and bridges and buildings and houses damaged, many people died.’’

She heard quickly from her mother, sister, two brothers, and extended network of friends and family in Kumamoto, but has been frustrated by how far away she is — and how hard it is to help. The centers of the quakes have been clustered in the Kumamoto prefecture.

The couple are now trying to organize benefit concerts in Boston and New York to raise money. They already had planned to travel to Kumamoto and play with the symphony there on May 22, they said. Now the show will become a benefit.

While the Stoltzmans say they feel shock, they do not feel despair.

“Everybody says ‘ganbatte’ — it’s a Japanese word that means to push on,’’ said Richard Stoltzman. The people of Kumamoto, he said, are the kindest he’s ever met, and watching them suffer from afar has caused him grief.

Badique, 33, echoed Stoltzman’s sentiment. When she moved to Kumamoto to teach, she said, she was alone -- but she found herself instantly pulled into the lives of the people she worked with.

A librarian she knew would come to her home and take care of her when she was sick; an older man who loved to speak English would take her and her friends to hole-in-the-wall restaurants just to talk. An older woman she knew became like a second mother to her, and Badique often dropped by her home for dinner. Strangers she met on the train helped her move.

“I’ve just never had such kindness from human beings,’’ she said.

Even the prefecture’s popular mascot — a plump black bear character with bright red cheeks named Kumamon — exudes friendliness and joy.

As messages from her friends rolled in on social media, confirming they were safe, Badique’s panic calmed. But as the aftershocks continued, uneasiness remained.

“I see a lot of the devastation being posted by other friends,’’ she said. “I’m thinking, how long until the next one?’’

Evan Allen can be reached at evan.allen@globe.com. Follow her on Twitter @evanmallen.