Hiroshima
Today was pouring with rain, which isn’t ideal when you are about to go sightseeing on foot all day. But, nevermind, it had to be done. Today I was going to explore Hiroshima.
As you can imagine, it was a very difficult day walking around Hiroshima and seeing the sheer destruction caused by the dropping of the A-bomb. Nothing hit that home quite like visiting ground zero: the A-bomb dome, at the time known as City Hall, and directly where the bomb fell. It has been preserved to look the same way it did the day the bomb went off as a reminder of the horrors of nuclear weapons.
A-bomb dome
I found a beautiful juxtaposition, however, in that there were beautiful flowers growing in and around the debris. Like a reminder that beauty can come from the most unlikely of places.
After this I wandered around the Peace Park seeing the various memorials, including the very poignant Children’s Peace Monument, dedicated to the children who died both during the blast as well as those who died as a result of the radiation after. The Children’s Peace Monument is a statue of a young girl with her arms outstretched and an origami paper crane rising above her. The statue is based on the true story of a girl who died from radiation of the bomb, who believed if she folded 1000 paper cranes, she would be cured. You could see thousands of streams of paper origami cranes all around the monument. These cranes are sent, mostly by children, to Hiroshima from all around the world.
The Children's Monument
Near the Children’s Monument is the Peace Bell - a very heavy steal Japanese bell hanging inside a small structure. It is one of those bells that has a wooden log attached by rope to one side, and to ring it you must pull the log away and release it, letting it hit the side of the bell to make it ring. The bell surface has a map of a world, and the area where the log would hit the bell was an atomic symbol. There are several instructions on the bell in Greek, Japanese and Sanskrit translating to “Know yourself”, one of the most ubiquitous and, in this case, appropriate Socrates quotes.
Visitors are encouraged to ring the bell for world peace, and throughout the day you could hear the tolling of the bell loudly throughout the park. Wanting to take part, I grabbed the log and pulled it away from the bell and released it, letting the bells melodious tones ring out through the park. I know that ringing a bell is a far cry from saving the world, but it was a cathartic experience that I found particularly powerful.
Ringing the Bell of Peace
There is a stone cenotaph in the middle of the park containing the registry of the names of the A-bomb's direct and indirect victims. The stone roof of the cenotaph, designed to shelter the victims' souls from the rain, is inscribed with the words, "Let all the souls here rest in peace, for we shall not repeat the evil". The registry is updated every year even now to keep track of all those who lost their lives from the bomb.
Hiroshima registry of A-bomb victims
Lastly, I made my way to the Peace Memorial Museum. It was both informative and tragic to see the events leading up to and following the dropping of the atomic bomb. I was particularly moved by the messages the museum gave. Instead of blaming the US for the bombing, the emphasis was actually on world peace and ceasing the use of nuclear weapons around the world. The museum made it very clear that, although nuclear bombs were not used, Japan has been just as cruel in the past in their colonisation and actions against enemies, particularly China.
City hall right after the bombing
Time stood still at 8.15am
On my way to the train station, I couldn’t help but become overcome with emotion following what I had just seen. Suddenly there was a tug on my arm. I looked down and there was a little Japanese boy who couldn’t have been more than 8 years old. He saw me and asked in broken English if I was ok. I choked back the tears and nodded yes and thanked him. Then he asked if he could practice his English with me, which I happily obliged the whole train ride until I reached my destination, bidding him farewell with a super-western style high five. That experience was amazing to me: here I was, an American, whose country caused so much destruction to his country only about 60 years ago. And instead of harbouring bad feelings and anger towards me, he was interested by me and wanted to talk to me. I couldn’t help but think that in 60 years, will we be the same way towards Islamic visitors touring Ground Zero in New York City? Can we as a nation really be as forgiving to others as the Japanese have been to us? I hope so…
