Remember, Remember...

Despite starting the day feeling a bit under the weather (and falling asleep on the 2 hour Shinkansen ride to Hiroshima. Sorry, Katie!!) Our Explorer arrived in Hiroshima--the first city in the whole world to feel the devastation wrecked by an atomic bomb.

(The Dome and Miwajima Island were two of our main destinations for the day)

Being a citizen of the United States visiting Japan and still learning the language had already been personal struggle of guilt she had to deal with. That became exponentially more difficult visiting the city that her government had decided to tear apart in one of the most horrible ways possible. She had a sort of nervous edginess about her. They were going to meet with an actual survivor of the attack--wouldn't he hate them? How could they even dare to walk through the peace park that still held the lone scared building to survive near the hypo-center? She was anxious and burdened with guilt for something she didn't do, but was afraid she and her companions would be an unwelcome representation and reminder of the country that was responsible.
So many children were milling about. Staring and even pointing at the

gaijin ("foreigners") as they moved in waves and currents directed by their teachers. It was quiet, though. As if the need for solemnity was felt by everyone.

These last two pictures are taken from atop the  Aioi Bridge...

...which intersect like a large "T" and  was a prime target for the bomb

They had to hurry through the park to make it to the museum to meet their guide and interpretor. Along the way, Our Observer was able to catch a glimpse of the Children's Memorial: a monument of a girl holding a paper crane in memory of Sadako, the little girl who died due to complication arising from the bomb's radiation.

In Japan there's an old adage that if you fold 1,000 paper cranes when you're sick, you would get better. So Sadako set out to do just that, and when others heard of her failing condition and that she was no longer able to fold them herself, people began sending in many, many paper cranes in hopes that she would get better.

Actual Paper Cranes Sadako folded

She didn't make it, however. And now the Monument stands as a plea for the world to never again use the terrible weapon that caused so many children like Sadako to perish.

Our Observer and her companions made it to the museum and began their way through. She soon began to realize, as she was talking with one of their guides (whose father was a survivor of the bomb) that the Peace Park, the Museum, the Dome, and even the people of Japan, do not have the intentions of blaming the U.S. for what has happened-- they blame the War. Walking through the museum and seeing the depictions of the effects was very moving.

Hiroshima Before

Hiroshima After

There were walls covered with copies of every letter the mayors of Hiroshima have ever sent to any country that ever tries to test nuclear weapons. The most recent of which being sent to President Barak Obama this past October. Their pleas for the goodwill of the world and the safety of people everywhere were translated into English and were so sincere in nature it's amazing that anyone could ignore their cry. Over 500 letters have been sent through out the years.

(Photo by Katie)

Last year was the first year a President of the United States attended the annual Festival of Peace on the anniversary of August 6th. It's been over 65 years.

(Photo by Professor Thomas)

The Contrite Girl walked the rest of the museum and tried not to cry as she listened to the survivor's account of what had happened that day, and how he as a middle school boy had been re-assigned for his work placement that day on the edge of the city instead of near the center where the rest of his class perished instantly.

The Park is a proclamation of hope, but also of remembrance.

This arch was erected to shelter the souls of the victims.

On the back of this kame ("turtle") is the Korean Monument, for the lives of those who came both willingly and unwillingly to Japan, only to perish.


The ashes of identified yet unclaimed and unidentified persons rest in this burial tomb.

Although the original structure and use of this building is now almost unimaginable, the sight of its dilapidated structure standing despite all logic (considering how close it was to where the bomb blew up) brought a small smile to Our Wanderer's face. The small school children coming up in packs of five or six to test out their English, clutching their workbooks helped lighten her heart a great deal. They nervously looked at one another, nudging one forward to say carefully: "Hello. Name. Is. ____. It is. Good. To. Meet you." And then asking a variety of questions: "Where are you come from?" "What sports do you like?" "Where is your favorite in Japan?" She answered them as easily and simply as she could, as they scribbled frantically in their workbooks her short on-to-two word answers. At the end of one of these little interviews, they would bestow a little gift--once a piece of candy that said "thank-you" on it, but usually paper cranes that they had folded themselves and brought with them in little pouches to give to whomever they asked.

(Photo by Professor Thomas)

Peace and Goodwill offerings in the hope of future understanding. I wish we were taught more about things like Hiroshima and Nagasaki in school, but I pray that with each new generation, we can strive towards a better tomorrow and a time when we look objectively at the past from all angles and use that information in our choices. Not just in terms of Nuclear testing (considering how hypocritical it is for the U.S. and other countries to demand places like North Korea to get rid of all of their Nuclear weapons when we are still conducting tests to further the development of ours...), but also in cultural competency. In being able to notice and respect the differences in people and to not hold ignorant assumptions in front of our eyes to hide the truth.

The world may be fallen, but it can be a beautiful place; if only we would rise to the challenge.