No Words . . . Just Silence

I am alone, or at least I feel that way; standing at the base of a jet black marble monolith that radiates the weight of this place, and the horrors of the human race. At its base is a large black coffin with the names of countless people killed by the push of a button in a matter of months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds. I came to Nagasaki knowing that this would be the hardest part of my trip, but also the most essential. So I’m standing at the base of the Atomic Bomb Hypocenter Memorial. Here, somewhere around 500 meters above ground, the American weapon of destruction named “Fat Man” was detonated. About 74,000 people were killed by the bomb and its aftermath. It is strange that I’m now two generations later and far, far removed from the events of World War II, yet I still feel somewhat responsible for this place. The monolith isn’t the only sobering factor of this space. There is also a shattered church pillar that towers in broken glory next to the hypocenter marker, as well as a large statue of a motherly figure holding a child which represents the women and children that made up 70% of the casualties of the bombing. The heaviness bearing down on my shoulders is becoming a physical burden and my throat is dry now. Next to the shattered church there are hundreds of thousands of rainbow origami cranes strung together into bundles of hope for a peaceful future.

We walk down to the river, flowing clean and slow, that was once so full of dead bodies that the water poisoned by the radiation was dammed for days. My throat has now begun to tighten, and I can’t look my two friends I came with directly in the eyes any more. As we progress towards the Atomic Bomb museum I am relieved of the emotional intensity by more peace cranes and the flame of peace (carried from Greece to Nagasaki). However this sense of relief is only brief and upon entering the museum my feelings of shame and remorse are thrown back on my shoulders by five huge TV screens repeating images of the growing and vile mushroom cloud. I won’t describe the videos that followed within this museum, but know that they were incredibly telling, graphic, and completely necessary for me to watch. I continued through the museum looking upon the blast radius of the bomb, burned clothing of children from one of the multiple elementary schools that was destroyed, and hand bones melted into the center of glass coke bottles because of the unimaginable heat of the bomb. At times I simply stand and look to the floor. I feel dirty and ashamed not necessarily to be and American, but to be human. How is it that we are capable of doing such ungodly things to one another? The feelings that are running through my mind are a mumbled mess of confusion and shock. This is without a doubt one of the best if not the best such museum I’ve ever been to. It forces one to look upon the items of individuals rather than presenting cold hard facts. It shows me melted catholic rosaries, charred mangled reading glasses and the shadows of children burned into school house walls left standing.

After finishing, my friends and I silently get some lunch and proceed up to the ruined foundations of the Nagasaki prison; the current sight of the welcoming and hopeful Peace Park. The grounds are dotted with donated peace statues from many other countries. At the heart of the Peace Park a huge bronze man points to the sky and the threat of nuclear war, as well as to the mountains to his side representing the future and peace. It was uplifting but somehow seemed cheaper and less real than the hypocenter. Still it was beautiful and again entirely necessary.
I always thought I understood the need for peace, but now it is resoundingly clear. Nothing could seem more urgent and pressing that the pursuit of some type of nuclear disarmament in my eyes. After hearing and seeing the terror my country threw down upon the civilian populous of Nagasaki I can only pray that nothing this terrible ever happens again. Many argue that the bomb was the best choice. It did end the war, and in so doing saved many American soldiers lives. Yet somehow that explanation does not work after what I have seen, and the feelings I have felt. I just don’t think I can comprehend cruelty on this magnitude, and attempting to exhausts me. I have many happier stories to tell but it is quite late, and I’m dead tired.

But before I go, please don’t get the wrong idea. This has been one of the most powerful and moving moments of my entire stay in Japan. The feelings I describe are horrible and drove me to silent tears but if no one cries over the atrocities of the past then no one will ever work to keep the past from repeating itself. If you ever should find yourself in Nagasaki it is paramount that you go to these monuments and honor the spirits of those who lost their lives, and learn their stories.

Osaka Kyoto GO!

At 9 pm on Thursday night Jon-O and I boarded the night bus to Osaka, our would-be home for the next 10 hours. It was miraculously comfortable with legroom that put most airplanes to shame. We arrived at 7am Friday and set right to work finding a place to stay. After consulting Lonely Planet we decided, with many doubts and hesitations, to stay in a capsule hotel for the night. For those who don’t know, a capsule hotel is exactly what it sounds like. You are given a capsule that has about enough space to sit up in, fitted with almost all the modern hotel requirements (TV, AC, night light, alarm clock, and radio). These spacious sleeping cells are stacked two high and in our hotel’s case they fill four floors. So with sleeping taken care of we set off to tour around Osaka (second largest city in Japan). We boarded the subway system and without any complications found our way to The Osaka Aquarium. This nicely organized and stunningly clean establishment boasts one of the world's few captive whale sharks, a huge manta ray, not to mention dozens of otherworldly denizens of the deep. The whale shark was stunningly large without a doubt, but as whale sharks go he is small. He keeps a slow meandering pace, circling his huge enclosure being continuously followed by a cloud of darting and dashing, silver and gold fish. While this is going on the elegant and admittedly more impressive manta ray is flying through the water in rollercoaster loops and cartwheels. These two giants are in an enormous central tank that spans four floors. All the other attractions sprout off from this huge tank. The most photogenic creatures where the apathetic jellyfish floating in their neon tanks without care about the bad imitation Christmas music that was creeping through the sound system. We stayed in the aquarium for about three and a half to four hours photographing and staring in awe at the creatures from a world we may never truly know.

After a nice Chinese lunch we headed across town and started towards the outside Osaka traditional farmhouse museum. This naturally sounds....... well. . . boring. I have been to many a great museum and I had my doubts about what this museum’s entertainment value would be. It blew me away. The houses are wonders of human early creation. The sun started to set and the leaves, bamboo, and houses seemed to just sing out in twelve-part harmony TAKE MY PICTURE! And pictures were taken. There were twelve traditional houses (all originals not recreations) taken from all over Japan. Being somewhat tired from our travels thus far Jon-O and I found a nice patch of grass on a hill beside a traditional Kabuki theater and ate some snacks while discussing international politics and how we missed big breakfasts. Then after thanking the museum staff we headed back to the subway system to accomplish the true purpose of the trip. For those of you that don’t know my dear friend, Andrea goes to Wooster just like me and is a major in Sociology. She has spent all semester studying at Kansai, a huge international school in Naga, Japan (somewhere inbetween Osaka and Kyoto). Her boyfriend and good friend of mine, Corey, is also studying there. These two are definitively, a joy. We decided to meet each other while in Japan, and I must say the feelings of excitement that welled up within me while spinning around in Shinsabashi station like a watch dog looking for that one familiar face in a country filled with such unfamiliar things is quite the experience. However, it pales in comparison to actually finding and vigorously hugging that loved face. I haven’t had a proper hug since my arrival in Japan, and damn does it feel good. After many hugs, how are yous, and happy smiles we dashed off to all you can eat pizza. The good company made Japan’s attempt at pizza taste closer to the real thing, and the night drifted on with many stores to tell.

The next day, after a nice night in a comfy capsule, started poorly and ended even more poorly. We were supposed to get to Kyoto and find a place for Jon-O, Andrea, Corey, and me to stay. Nowhere had any affordable openings. We liked the capsules so much we just decided to go back. So after a huge and nice lunch of Dimsum (Chinese food) the four of us headed out to see the fabled temples of Kyoto. Unfortunately rain and hordes of tourists followed, as did getting lost and high winds. We eventually found a nice small temple dedicated to famous Japanese Magicians and a small neighborhood temple. Then the rain picked up a little and we took shelter in a itty-bitty coffee shop where I drank hot cocoa and exchanged more stories. Home to Osaka, capsule pass out, up for breakfast (rice, meat, and raw egg) and back to Kyoto. Sunday was incredibly successful. We started the day off with a small shrine that was connected to a mountain top monkey park! After a twenty-minute hike up a very beautiful red and orange themed forest walk we reached the top. Here hoards of monkeys ran amongst the humans clearly showing their control of the situation. There were park hands with brooms that walked around poking at the more aggressive primates, but it seemed to do little more than agitate them more. Though intimidating, these creatures were remarkably cute, and the views of Kyoto were incredible.

Quick lunch and a riverside walk later we found ourselves in a bamboo forest with light filtering through the tops of the trees like tiny spotlights. Lonely Planet suggested getting out of Kyoto to the more rural communities and temples so we went to a beautiful neighborhood and found a huge wonderful temple. In the height of the leaf season, I walked amongst trees ablaze with red and yellow and thought of the spirits that this temple was surly meant to pay homage to. These temples are all across Japan, but this little gem hidden away in Northern Kyoto drove their purpose home. Then after a bit more neighborhood wandering the four of us boarded the subway for a final time. We said our goodbyes all too quickly on a train, and I must say it hurt as bad as it always does. When you leave the company of those you are most comfortable with it feels like a part of you is missing. So with a heavy heart I gave Andrea and Corey each a quick hug that betrayed exactly how little I liked seeing them go, and watched them quickly disappear from sight. (A note to them if and when they read this. THANK YOU BOTH SOOOOO MUCH! What memories we created, and what sights we’ve seen. I’m so glad I got to share them with you. Thank you, thank you.) Jon-O and I then jumped back onto the night bus and rode back to Nagasaki for Monday classes, smelling only slightly stinky from all night travel. I also want to take just a moment to thank Jon-O for being my travel buddy, good friend, British travel connection, fellow bar philosopher and Japanese interpreter. I wish my friends back home could meet him. He’s 6 feet 5 inches of great “proper fun”.

This whole trip was remarkable, and showed me that you’ll never ever see it all. Kyoto has so SO much more to offer than I got to see. I have a sneaking suspicion that I’ll be saying that about Japan in two weeks when I bid it farewell. Until next time.