Days 42-43: 12-13 May 2009

LOCATION: HIROSHIMA
MOOD: HUMBLED
LISTENING TO: DO AS INFINITY – KAGAKU NO YORU

KINDNESS PAID IN KIND:

I woke up this morning still weary from the breakneck pace of the last couple of days but still with enough time to get to the convenience store, pick up breakfast (a juice box and some onigiri (Japanese rice balls)) and get on the shinkansen to my next stop, Hiroshima. Unfortunately my time-budgeting hadn't taken into account the request that the kindly old lady at the front desk would ask of me. At first she asked whether I could stay for breakfast, a token of thanks for the previous night's work. I thanked her for the offer but politely refused, saying I had a train to catch. She then asked whether I could help her with a few more translations, and from the look on her face I knew that this was an opportunity that might not come again for her for a while, so I agreed.

She gave me about three more documents, and by the time I finished the last one it was almost time to catch my train. After making sure she was satisfied with the translations I attempted to excuse myself again, but she wouldn't let me go until she gave me something so I waited while she disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a couple of cans of juice and an apologetic look. She said she wished there was something better she could give me, but these were the only take away things she could rustle up. I didn't really mind; at least I had something to drink while I ran for the train.

As fast as I ran, it couldn't quite compare to the sense of speed you get riding the bullet train.

BOULEVARD OF REBUILT DREAMS:

I arrived at Hiroshima mid-morning and immediately headed for my hostel. The trip from Okayama to Hiroshima is fairly short (just over an hour), and I had spent most of the time wondering what to expect. The name Hiroshima has so many connotations that I wasn't exactly sure what I would feel when I arrived. As it turned out, the first impression I got when disembarking from the station was one of vibrant energy. It was a bright, sunny day and the station was new and polished. The streets were busy, a cool wind was coursing through the city and the river I crossed to get to my hostel was clean and lined with trees. It was truly a remarkable impression given that I had always associated Hiroshima with death and destruction. Of course I knew that the city had long since been rebuilt and was now a major metropolis, but that connection had always been lurking in the back of my mind.

Blue skies at ground zero.

The whole place was very zen. Just the way I like it.

The hostel was also surprisingly clean and new. It had only been opened in 2007, so all the fixtures were still new and sparkly. Perhaps more importantly the proprietors had clearly learned from the backpacker experience and fitted the rooms with such handy facilities as large lockers under the bunk beds that were big enough to fit my suitcase and backpack with room to spare.

I had the top bunk, so you can't blame that mess on me.

After getting set up I headed out to try and make the most of the first of my two days in Hiroshima. The first stop on my list was the most important for any visitor to Hiroshima: the Atomic Bomb museum. As I was walking there I looked for a place to eat but as the hostel was in an office district there weren't many restaurants along the way. I ended up buying some sandwiches from the convenience store and eating in the park that lines Heiwa-Dori (Peace Boulevard), the road that runs through the centre of Hiroshima.

Peace Boulevard. A great source of shady lunch spots on a hot summer's day.

The boulevard lives up to its name; it really was one of the most peaceful experiences I've had since coming to Japan. I sat in the shade of the leafy trees and enjoyed my lunch while watching couples meander, businessmen bustle and children play. The architects had gotten the balance just right, and the entire boulevard felt like a giant triumph for peace and life over death and destruction. One only hopes that the bickering parties who are halting the construction of the Freedom Tower can learn something from a city that suffered an even worse disaster.

If you look in the bottom left, you can see that rarest of all phenomena in Japan: the public bench. Yet another reason why I love Hiroshima.

As you might expect, there are lots of sculptures and memorials scattered all along Peace Boulevard. Some of them are fairly abstract, but they all share the common goal of trying to make sense of an almost completely senseless disaster.

Others reflect a more traditional response. The phrase 'May Peace Prevail On Earth' is a common one in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I'm not sure, but I have the feeling it's a Buddhist proverb.

WELCOME TO GROUND ZERO:

By the time I finished lunch I was feeling really worn out; the rush in the morning hadn't helped and I was still overcoming the effects of several nights of sub-par sleep. Nevertheless I knew that the Atomic Bomb museum was a sight I had to see, so I got up and willed myself the couple of blocks to the centre of Hiroshima where ground zero and the museum are located.

As you approach the Atomic Bomb Memorial Park you are left in no doubt as to where you are. The immaculately kept lawns and gardens that border the estate are littered with statues mourning the loss of life and celebrating the heroism of those who came to aid the city in the aftermath of the bombing. Taking a stroll to peruse the statutes is a good way to get yourself in the appropriate mood and frame of mind to digest the rest of the complex.

This sculpture of a mother desperately trying to shelter her baby while her son tries to clamber onto her back stands directly in front of the memorial centre.

This plaque commemorates Marcel Junod, a Red Cross doctor who fought through red tape to get as many supplies into the ruined city as possible in the bomb's aftermath.

I found this sculpture particularly moving. The anguish on the mother's face and limpness of the child in her arms speaks volumes on the depth of the suffering, and the piles of paper cranes show the depth of emotion that still remains today.

After finishing with the front lawn you have the choice of either checking out the numerous monuments (the A-Bomb cenotaph that contains the names of all deceased victims of the bomb, the Flame of Peace, the Children's monument etc) or heading straight into the museum. The monuments were quite crowded with the busloads of school kids shipped in from all corners of the country so I opted for the museum. As it turns out the museum was just as crowded with high schoolers, and even though their laughter and incessant chatter seemed somewhat inappropriate in such a sombre and serious place I realised that it was a testament to how completely Japanese society has recovered from the bomb that its youth are not cowed by the memory of the event.

The main lawn. That saddle-shaped object is the cenotaph, and the crowds gathered in front of it are all school kids.

The walls of the complex are covered in artworks.

The museum itself is a long, exhaustive history of the bomb and nuclear weapons in general. It starts off slowly, beginning with a history of pre-war Hiroshima. As it turns out Hiroshima was primarily a mercantile city until the militarisation of modern Japan, at which point it also became a major staging ground for Japanese forces headed overseas. In particular it was home to the Army Marine Headquarters and a number of battalions that fought in Manchuria and China, as well as large stockpiles of weapons and other military supplies.

A replica of the atomic bomb dome has been built inside the museum. The actual structure stands across the river from the memorial park.

Following this the focus changes to the leadup to the bombing, from both a Japanese and American perspective. On the Japanese side you learn of the increasing desperation that faced that domestic Japanese population towards the end of the war, and on the American side you find out about the development of the bomb and the decision making process that led to the deployment of the bomb, including the greater geopolitical context in which the bombing took place.

This is then followed by displays showing the extent of the destruction following the bombing, including a scale model that allows you to compare the city before and after the bombing. Even without the loss of life the sheer scale and overwhelming nature of the destruction makes quite an impression.

The target was the T-bridge in the bottom right hand corner.

This really speaks for itself.

The red ball represents the hypocenter (the actual blast). Nuclear weapons are detonated in the air; they don't actually hit the ground.

After this the exhibits turn to the issue of nuclear proliferation, including disquieting displays on the amount of nuclear warheads currently in stockpiles around the world and potential rammifications of global nuclear warfare. This section concludes with information on the global push for nuclear disarmament as well as several petitions.

Every time a nuclear test is conducted the mayor of Hiroshima writes a letter of protest to the responsible head of state. This display is composed of copies of those letters.

This globe represents the relative sizes of the world's nuclear arsenals. The globe is turned on its side, so Russia is on the right and India is on the left.

At this point the museum changes its tone. Up until this point the information has primarily been factual and big picture; as disturbing as it is, it's still just words and numbers. From this point on the museum reveals the true horror of nuclear weapons: the human cost. The emotional effect is probably amplified by this layout; finishing up with the nuclear disarmament displays lulls you into a bit of a false sense of security, as if you have seen it all and it wasn't that bad. When you cross over into the next section this comfort blanket is completely stripped away.

The first sight you are greeted with is a diorama of the scene at ground zero immediately after the bombing. The sheer radiant heat from the blast literally melted skin off the bones, with those unlucky enough to be insufficiently close to be completely incinerated left with flesh hanging off in strips and only the sight of the city ablaze and the moans of the dying. This exhibit is followed by a number of drawings by survivors that recount almost every imaginable type of human suffering. If ever there were a vision of hell on earth, this would be it.

Following this you are confronted by a seemingly endless array of exhibits that fall into roughly two categories – tales of the dead and tales of the dying. Many of the exhibits are simply shreds of clothing left behind by victims, and you are left to imagine what they suffered. Even more harrowing are the stories of those who cared for the survivors, who often fell victim themselves. These are coupled with numerous exhibits on the medical affects of the various injuries suffered by victims, ranging from burns from the radiant heat to broken bones from the blast to the more insidious radiation-induced illnesses.

One thing you will notice about this section is that there are almost no photographs. The main reason is that Hiroshima was singularly unprepared for the bombing. When the US decided to deploy the bomb the decision was made to use it on a Japanese city that had not been subject to Allied bombing raids so as to be able to get an accurate assessment of the bomb's true destructive potential. The US went so far as doing dummy drops of fake bombs prior to the date so that Hiroshima's citizens would not be concerned by the sudden appearance of a B-29. When the first reporter arrived on the scene he was so overcome with what he saw that he was only able to take around five photos. Even without the visuals I was feeling a little weak in the knees by the end of the exhibit.

The only thing I felt comfortable photographing was this replica of the bomb.

By the time I finished at the museum the weather had taken a turn and the sky was now (somewhat appropriately) overcast. I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the rest of the memorial park taking a look at the various monuments and trying to make sense of what I had seen. Everyone knows about how powerful nuclear weapons are and most of us have some intellectual appreciation of the depth of the destruction they cause but it's not until you're confronted with the reality of what the use of a nuclear weapon on human beings is like that you develop a true appreciation for the seriousness with which these weapons need to be treated.

The main lawn again. If you stand in the middle of the path you can see straight through the cenotaph to the eternal flame and, in the distance, the bomb dome.

The view from the cenotaph.

The eternal flame. It will continue to burn until the last nuclear weapon has been disarmed.

The childrens' memorial. The displays that surround the sculpture are encased in glass and under video surveillance due to a previous act of vandalism by a Japanese college student protesting, of all things, lack of employment opportunities for college grads.

Another shot of the memorial. In this photo you can see that the girl is holding up a wire paper crane, and in the bottom left hand corner is a sign warning that surveillance cameras are operating.

Just across the river from the memorial park is the Atomic Bomb Dome, which has become a symbol of the city and the event. It used to be the city's trade hall and was a mark of modernity before the bombing, and is the only standing reminder of the bombing left in the city. It was almost directly under the explosion and its burnt out shell makes for a striking contrast with the crisp modern buildings that have sprung up around it. It's a good thing that Hiroshima is such a vibrant, lively city because if it hadn't been rebuilt and all that was left was the museum it would be too crushing an experience to bear.

The Dome is the only visual reminder of the bombing still standing, but it's a potent one.

There's a very real ghostly quality to the burnt out structure. Perhaps it's because of the building's past as a trade centre, a hub of activity and life.

Despite being right the middle of the city the Dome is pretty quiet, apart from the low rumble of traffic from the nearby roads. It's very well suited to quiet reflection.

If it's all a little too much, downtown Hiroshima is just around the corner. It's a nice reminder that life moves on.

A LITTLE PERSPECTIVE:

I was thoroughly drained following my visit to the A-Bomb museum so I headed back to my hostel for an early night. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get much rest as I had the misfortune of only being able to get a top bunk. A top bunk might be cool when you're eight and sharing a room with your brother, but it sucks when you're in a dorm. Apart from the problem of going up and down every time you need something from your bag there's also the issue of that one thoughtless person who comes in at one in the morning and turns on the light without thinking. Suffice to say I didn't get much sleep that night.

I might not have done much sleeping, but I did at least get some nice night shots when I went out for dinner.

When I woke up the next day I had a splitting headache and really wasn't in any shape to go out or do anything. I only had two days in Hiroshima and I had planned to use the second day to take a ferry out to the island of Miyajima to see the famous floating torii gate (see below), so I was torn between pushing myself and taking the day off. I decided on a compromise – I would wait until lunch and see how things went. By lunch I was still feeling like crap so I made the decision not to go. It was a tough call seeing as Miyajima's floating gate is one of the iconic images of Japan, but weighing that against the possibility of falling ill for real and defaulting on a rapid succession of hotel bookings the choice was clear. Besides, the disappointment of losing a day was somewhat lessened by the perspective I had gained from the previous day.

I ended up spending the day listening to music and reading up on my next few destinations as well as taking care of some housekeeping matters and calling home via Skype. Not exactly a fascinating travel story, but it's part of the trip so for the sake of completeness I thought I'd write about it.

Sometimes it doesn't hurt to slow down and think about what's really important.