Almost Home

     Now I am back in the city I've known my whole life. This place feels familiar to me, but a little more foreign than when I first began my journey. I have seen the place of my physical birth.

     I have encountered the birthplace of my spiritual life.

     These experiences have changed me. I see the world a little differently. Slights that used to sting so deeply can hardly be felt. Tasks that seemed insurmountable have become welcome opportunities. Burdens that felt so heavy have been turned into an over the shoulder sack full of stories to be shared.
     So, while I am here, I cherish every laughter shared with friends. I warmly embrace every hug shared with family. I welcome every new face I greet because I know inside of them is a spirit akin to my own. I enjoy every moment as a precious gift. For these moments are short lived and forever longed for once they are gone.

     The road is never far away. And it continues to call each day. I am thankful for the laughter, the smiles, the hugs, and the bonds shared with loved ones. I am thankful that my life has been filled with them and that their abundance continues. I am thankful for the opportunity to enjoy them for as long as they are with me.
   
     I am thankful that I will carry these with me into whatever chapter comes next. Whatever may come, I am stronger with love in my heart. I am almost home.

Another Day in Israel

     A man on the bus was having a conversation quite loudly on his phone and then excused himself. A little later he came up and spoke to our tour guide.
     "For what it's worth, that was my cousin. They've had rockets in Tel Aviv. It's all over the news."

     Our tour guide nodded and shrugged it off. The Israeli guide asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
     Our American tour guide replied, "I guess." His demeanor did not demonstrate a desire to talk about it though.
     A few moments later suggested "maybe after..." something I couldn't hear. Our American tour guide agreed.

     I put my arm around my mom. She leaned her head into my shoulder and told me she loves me.
     "I love you too, Mom," I replied.

-Rockets Attack: Nitzamin, Netivot, Beit Hilkia

     As we were walking around Gezer viewing the ruins and hearing its history, we heard what sounded like planes in the sky that lasted for several minutes. With no clouds on a clear day, nothing could be seen flying. The sound was followed shortly by a noticeable wind that came abruptly and then abated.

-Rockets Attack: Shokeda, Zimmurat, Shuka, Yarsmel

     I overhear a quiet conversation as the Israeli guide leans over to reassure our American guide that Israeli intelligence anticipates these attacks and is prepared for them. Our American guide has begun whistling to himself. It is clearly a nervous habit.

-Rockets Attack: Yad Mordechai, Karmi'ia, Nas Haraav

     "The kibbutz," I hear the driver tell our Israeli guide.
     We visited a hill on Bet Shemesh to hear of the ark of the covenant passing through the area.
     "Red Alert says they are firing rockets from Gaza," I hear one of our tour guests say to another.
     "We finally retaliated," our Israeli guide tells our American guide.
     "We did?" our American guide asked.
Our Israeli guide went on to describe them identifying something I couldn't hear and saying they destroyed the rockets.
     "Well, good." Our American guide seems pleasantly reassured.

     We arrived at lunch. Ate it and returned to the bus. As we pulled away, our Israeli guide explained to all of us over the microphone that a jihad extremist leader had been assassinated by Israeli intelligence yesterday. They expected a retaliation and it came today. He explains that some 70 bombs have been launched, but none have landed with any casualties. The Israeli Defense Force has found a group of bombers. They have killed two of them and injured eleven more, taking out the unit.
    Our Israeli guide offers his opinion that this whole conflict will not last more than 24 hours.

    We walk up the hill and hear the story of David versus Goliath. This is the valley suggested to be where the battle took place.

-Rockets Attack: Tushia, Saad, Aliomen, Zimrat, Talmel Blu, Netivot, Turmaa, Timrat and Shava, Yoshu, Tsumann, Talmel Blu

    The next site we come to is some kind of national park caves. It is closed due to the attacks today.
     "...we know where you are and we are coming for you." This was something our Israeli guide told our American guide.
     "That was the Jihad?" our American guide asks.
     "Yes," the Israeli guide confirms.

     We visit another site. The site was Lakish. This is the site of the city destroyed in the Bible around the time of Hezekiah.
     Four planes fly over head. Two by two all in the same direction. These are the first planes we have seen in several hours. We suspect all planes have been grounded.

-Rockets Attack: Ezaz, Mavkim

    We visit Tel Lubna as the sun sets. When we return a full red moon rises over the opposite horizon.

Come and See

Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” — John 1:46

     After spending the last week in Israel, I am grateful to see this verse in a whole new light. Nazareth was a nothing town and hardly on any map. It was the most unlikely place to produce anything or anyone of any repute. I know this because I have been shown the archaeological evidence that suggests the size of the town was miniscule compared to those around it. Nevertheless, it produced a teacher who gathered round him a host of followers that slowly spread to every corner of the world.
     Before his word was shared everywhere though, it was shared to small crowds of people willing to listen. When Nathanael asked what could be remarkable that came from nowhere, Philip did not try to explain the message or summarize it or sell it in any way. He simply suggested Nathanael come hear the words for himself.

     Jesus turned and saw them following and said to them, “What are you seeking?” And they said to him, “Rabbi” (which means Teacher), “where are you staying?” 
     “Come and see,” He replied. So they went and saw where He was staying, and spent that day with Him. -John 1:38-39

     I have been blessed to be able to see the ruins confirmed to be the hometown of four of the twelve disciples. It has been my privilege to visit sites that carbon date exactly to the times attributed them in the Bible and fitting the descriptions given. Stories I have heard my whole life from various scriptures meld into one continuous line when I get the chance to see and feel their proximity to one another. After witnessing many excavations still being conducted and putting my hand on the Western Wall, I know that I am touching history.

     I have been a Christian my entire life, but this does not mean that I carry with me no doubts. I continue to wrestle with the idea of supernatural wonders, just as I imagine anyone of us does. However, after seeing how much of the story has been confirmed through archaeological studies, corroborated secular histories, and fossil evidence, it is not such a stretch to imagine the rest of the story may be true as well.
     My life continues to be enriched by the faith that I have been granted. It is not and never has felt like any kind of hindrance. With all of the conflict going on around me, I have never been more at peace.

     There is a story in the Bible where Jesus healed a man who had been blind. After the miracle was performed, the people demanded that the man who had been healed explain to them what had happened.

The man replied, "I don't know if he is a sinner or not. All I know is that I used to be blind, but now I can see!" -John 9:25

     When people ask, I cannot tell them who God is to them or who He should be. I cannot explain how He works or does not work. I cannot prove His existence or absence. The truth is, I don't want to. I simply know that my life is and has always been better with His presence in it. So I will come each day and see what He has in store for me.

...without fear.

     On the last leg of an 18-hour journey from Beijing to Tel-Aviv, I have plenty of time to reflect on the past couple of weeks. I recognize what I have let go of and this brings me confidence.
     Many times in my life have I relied on others. Many times it was necessary and for the most part it has been beneficial. However, in having to find my own way, I discovered self-reliance in the face of adversity. Without a ride, I found direction.
     My life has been filled with planning throughout its entirety. I planned what I would do after school, I planned the kind of career I would have, I planned out the best way to pursue personal relationships, I planned out every chapter of my own personal story. However, when I had no plan, the true reason for my time in China gravitated to the surface. Without a plan, I found purpose.
     Searching for explanations to life's great mysteries seems to be the sole livelihood of many of us. I searched for why things happen for so long. Why has this person been lost in my life? Why have I missed out on this job opportunity? Why can't I grow in the way I desire? Why do others get to live such different lives? Why has this person come into my life? Why have I been given this opportunity? Why do I have gifts others don't? These endlessly lead to more questions. When I found myself in a place without descriptions I could understand, instinct and inference painted a clearer picture. Without explanation, I found meaning.
     Everyday the internet is our constant companion. It provides news to us, gives us information and carries an opportunity to communicate with others. I was distraught to think of going a few weeks without it. However, when I was left without the white noise that constant opportunity for connection clouding my senses, I discovered that a single conscious effort to connect is more valuable than a million opportunities to do so. Without the internet, I found connection.

     I am touching down this morning into a new land. It will be another country that I do not speak the language in. In this one, I have not even booked my lodging ahead of time.
     I am not worried.
     I know that I will find my way. I know that I can determine a course once I arrive. I know that a purpose comes first, so that a plan will form organically. I know that explanations are the tip of the iceberg when searching for meaning. I know that without the internet, connections will be found not less but more.
     I know that all of these things that I counted as lacking have filled me to the brim. I know that I am free of what I used to rely on. I know that I am free. Without fear,
     I found freedom.

...without the internet.

     There were parts of this trip that were certainly limited due to my lack of internet. I did not have the opportunity to research sites once I got here. My travel plans were all contingent on how close they were to my hostel. I could get to almost nothing that wasn't connected to some kind of major transportation hub.
     On a trip where I had pleasantly discovered that my text service came with me for free in every other country, this disconnection from every kind of digital contact was new.
      It didn't really sink in until after the first few days. After already seeing what I had come to see within the first 48 hours of being here, I was becoming curious about what else was out there. But I could not just type in a quick search to find out.
      Luckily, the hostel had maps of the Beijing subway that cited major attractions on it. This became one of my primary guides. I simply took a new attraction each day and explored a small part of the city with each one. My nights would be filled by talking to other travelers in the hostel bar. We would talk about what we had seen and we're going to see. If a few of us had the same ideas, we would go together.
      Who knew? The simple art of conversation still exists and works as a valid exchange of information. Along the way I met someone on my Great Wall tour that shared a kung-fu show with me. I met someone the next night and we decided to share the Forbidden City together. Another new friend was determined to see pandas in China, so we spent a day at the Beijing Zoo. There were four of us who got together to do nothing more than play card games in the bar for four nights in a row. When one of them left, someone else who had just arrived joined the game. I left having exchanged information with five or six different people in as many countries.

     Unexpectedly, it seemed easier to meet people in an environment that seemed so foreign. It turns out, the need for human interaction is pretty important to us and only when it is limited can it be appreciated in its fullness. It was without the distraction of constant digital noise,
     I found connection.

...without explanation.

     It's a cold, rainy day today. I had thought I might visit the Forbidden City today, but the majority of it is outside in the weather. Almost all of the historical sites in this ancient city are exposed to the elements. I did take note, however, of a museum that sits right next to Tian'anmen Square. I resolved to wait out the rain gathering whatever information I might find there.
     Even getting into the museum ended up being a bit of a chore. Trying to get to the front door, I was directed with point of a security guard's finger to go to the security check. This security check walked me right to the crosswalk that took me into Tian'anmen Square. Despite the rain, I took my time walking through the square to soak in the atmosphere.

     It's a bustling place with endless waves of tourists who are mostly Chinese snapping their selfies and hurrying to the constant lines at each entrance. Security guards stand on every corner and many seemingly random points in between. They appear bored more than anything. A deeper sense says that despite the commotiont there is very little going on here. It is more just a space for events to happen when they need to, rather than a space that has something happening all the time.

     I continue on to the next cross walk that takes me back to the side of the museum. There is a stone mob of people staring directly down at there cell phones. Past this I see a small building unattached to the museum that just a few people are rushing to. The building has lots of Chinese I can't read and the word "passport." I head towards the building. After elbowing my way to the front, as is the custom in China, I hand the clerk my passport. She types something into her computer, then hands me my passport with a slip of paper. I take the piece of paper with me to the side entrance of the museum. As I hand it to the woman attending the door, she passes me through to a security check.
     After passing through the security check, I now have free reign of the museum itself. I discover a space much larger than I thought with much more information. There are nineteen galleries that span five floors. Each gallery proves to hold several rooms worth of specific history. One holds the history of currency. Another holds the history of literature. A third holds a history of weapons. A fourth holds a history of international relations.
     The gallery that captures my attention the most is the one that has a history of the country as a whole. This gallery is by far the largest and has mutliple roomed sections that each contain a major chapter of China's history. It begins with fossils demonstrating early man's presence on the vast continent. It continues with exhibitions demonstrating development of tools. It is followed by exhibitions of early societal structures and finally compounds into the countless dynasties that stretched out for thousands of years leading up to modern day Chinese life.

     What I found most fascinating was how much could be interpreted by such a vast expanse of history. Walking through the birth and growth of this very foreign culture, I found a sense of my own becoming. There is an ongoing cycle from growth to creation to destruction to growth to creation to destruction and on and on again. It can be found in any society around the world.
     And it could be seen plainly walking through the halls where I could not read a single sign. While the displays were all in Chinese, the story itself was clear. Some stories are so universal, they need no explanation. They can be found not in examining our differences, but rather by observing our similarities. It is in these stories,
I found meaning.

...without a plan.

     When I arrived in China, I had nothing more than my hostel booked. People before and during the trip asked me many times why I was going to this country. Tian'anmen Square and the Great Wall. Outside of these two places, I had no idea what to look for. I trusted that the Great Wall was a big enough attraction that I would be able to find my way there once in country. Tian'anmen Square was no further than five or six blocks from my hostel.
     I was fortunate enough to view Tian'anmen on my way to the hostel, as well as several times after that simply because it was on my way to other sites I decided to visit. When checking into my hostel, I immediately noticed a sign behind the counter advertising their "Ancient-Secret Great Wall" tour. I signed up for the next day.
     I was pleased to find that the main descriptions they put on their sign proved to be true. Their tour was simply a bus ride, a twenty-minute explanation of the history of the wall, three hours of free time to explore it, a provided lunch on site, and then a return ride back to the hostel. It was nice to have a tour that did not try to sell anything extra or take you to any shopping sites along the way. Additionally, the part of the wall we went to is between any main tourist sites. This means that we had most of the wall all to ourselves.

     After returning to the hostel, a new friend I had met on the tour and I signed up to see a kung fu show that evening. It was only as we were leaving that I realized that this time the transportation provided was only one way. We ended up having to find our own way back. This took us down many streets we never would have seen otherwise. It gave us the opportunity to see Beijing outside of the attractions that draw so much attention. Three hours after the show ended, we came walking back into our hostel near around 1am.
     It was a good second night in the new country.

     Thinking back to my experiences these first few days and throughout the rest of my time in China, it was the unexpected encounters that stuck with me as the most memorable. It was finding a corner full of old men playing cards in the park. It was discovering a gaggling group of girls chasing some celebrity with their camera phones. It was the smiles of the old ladies on the subway when I gave up a seat for them. It was the excited children playing in the zoo and the happy parents looking after them.
     While I appreciate the history each of the many UNESCO sites provided, it was the moments in between them that portrayed how everyday life looks for the people in China. This was the reason I had come here. It was in the unplanned moments,
     I found purpose.

... without a ride.

     I am willing to admit that I was a little more apprehensive visiting China than some other countries. I have certainly heard rumors of secret surveillance and hostility towards Americans. My hesitation was further heightened by an article I read that claimed nothing associated with Google works in China. While I know many of you are immediately sensing I rely too much on the internet, please understand my phone is a Google product and so I was concerned that it would not connect to anything. This would mean no internet, no maps, no GPS, no phone calls and no text messaging. All in a country that may or may not have any signs in English. For this reason, I took the extra measure of setting up a ride from the airport ahead of time with Hostelworld. Feeling secure about my decision, I made no extra effort to look up how to get to my hostel from the airport ahead of time.
     Needless to say, I was a little upset when my ride was not at the airport as promised. I was not all that surprised because I had read some previous reviews that said their transportation had not shown up. Other reviews raved that they were very happy they did not have to navigate their way on their first night to a hostel in a busy city.
     I had also read that the drivers would wait for forty-five minutes after their pick-up time, which in parentheses stated typically at the time the flight arrives. With this in mind, I specifically requested the driver an hour after my flight arrived. As I walked out of the immigration, customs, and baggage claim to the arrivals area an hour and a half after my flight arrives, I knew I had a fifty-fifty chance. The odds proved not to be in my favor.
     After walking up and down the line of signs without my name on any of them three times, I began to try getting help with the information desk. They let me use the phone to try to call the phone number listed as the contact for Hostelworld's rides. No one picked up the phone and no message machine came on. I asked the information clerk how I could connect to the internet. They gave me a connection password. My phone said it had internet, but couldn't pull anything of any sort up. I tried calling the Hostelworld phone number again using the information desk's phone. Same result; no answer. I hung up and tried the phone number again. Same result; no answer. I walked back through the line of drivers with signs one last time. My name was not on any of them.

     I now decided I will just have to make my way to the hostel on my own. I reviewed the information I had printed on my reservation and, fortunately, it had a few simple instructions. When I say simple, that is just what I mean.
     "Take the subway from the airport," was the first instruction. It did not specify which subway or where to or where it is at the airport or any other information that would prove to be helpful. The next few instructions were just as plain. Transfer here, get off there, turn here, walk 800 meters.
     With these vague ideas I went back to the information desk.
     "Where is the subway?" I asked.
     They pointed behind them. So, I walked through a long corridor behind them that evidently was the connection between a subway station and the airport. I waited in line to buy a ticket. At the counter they told me they could not take credit card, only cash. I asked about the machines next to the counter, they also only took cash. I asked where the ATM is. They pointed me back to the airport. I went back into the airport. As I entered, the security stopped me to perform a bomb check on my clothing. I passed and went back into the airport. I asked the information desk where the ATM is. They pointed me to their left. I walked a little ways to discover an ATM with an "out of service" sign on it. I walked back to the information desk to ask again. This time they pointed me to their right. Walking twelve gates down, I found another ATM. I pulled out a fair amount of cash and returned to the subway ticket machine. The ticket machine, which only took cash, spat my money back out and displayed the words "no change." So, I waited in line again for the teller, who promptly yelled at me in Chinese when I couldn't answer his question before giving me my change and a single ticket.
     Sitting on the subway I was anxiously watching each stop to make sure I got off at the right one. I found my transfer. I walked out of the train into the station and followed a few signs that led me to a crossroads in the crowd. My ticket was taken on my way out. I discover on the other side of the subway gate another subway gate. I had to buy another ticket to transfer. So, I purchased my ticket, got one the new subway line and hopped off at my stop. Scurrying along as best I could with my 30lb backpack, I came up a set of stairs outside for the first time since the airport.

     It was here that I saw the first reason I had come to China. The lights outside the subway station were beautiful. The architecture seemed somewhat familiar. As I tried to place it, I began to remember why I had picked the hostel I would stay at. This is the outside of Tian'anmen Square. I hadn't even made it to my hostel yet and I was seeing it along the way.

    My pace slowed down despite the weight on my back. I wanted to enjoy my first sight of this historic area. I was not the only one. Many people were snapping selfies and trying to capture the imagery of the square. I continued on down a street that I was not sure of, leading away from the square. I was pleasantly reassured when I saw a sign that had the same name as the street with my hostel several blocks away. I turned down this street to find that the street itself has quite a draw. It has countless storefronts with historical markers that date back 300 years. It has merchants selling the same types of wares that have been sold here through multiple dynasties. The feudal gates to the interior of the city stand at the end of the street.

     It doesn't take long to find my hostel now.

     Over the twelve days that I am here, my comfort level grows. I saw one of the two main things I came to see by accident the first night. It got easier from there, despite my initial trepidation. The hostel is kind enough to provide maps for travelers to help see major sites. After a few days this becomes little more than a reference for what else to see since it has historical sites listed as attractions. After a week, I have quit taking it with me. In the last few days I am in China, westerners on the street ask me how to find things out of the blue.
     If I had never had to make it on my own, I suppose it might have taken more time to acclimate to the traveling here. Sometimes it is the unexpected experiences that grant us the most growth. Sometimes we do not realize how much we rely on others, rather than ourselves. It was only when I was without a ride, without the opportunity to be carried,
     I found direction.

Through the Storm

We all go through dark times in our lives.

We see the storm brewing.

We wait to see what is to come.

As the sky goes from blue to black...

...we look back to see a violent storm.

We have arrived somewhere new.

We enter into places we would rather not.

Our world has changed.

Washed away.

But as the storm subsides...

...love remains.

Five Faces

     What do you think of when someone mentions Japan? Do technology and games come to mind? Maybe samurai warriors flow from your imagination. Perhaps beautiful flowering plantlife or endless rice fields stretch as far as the mind wanders.
     Many people would argue which of these best represents the "strange little island." Over the course of the past month, I have been able to visit five major cities that represent significant differences in sub-cultures and atmospheres. I do not believe any of these are more or less important than the others. Each represents a part of Japan, just as pertinent to its culture as any other city.
   
     Similarly, we all wear many faces through different chapters of our lives, in different settings, and sometimes simply with different people. Please do not misunderstand me. This by no means suggests we are all two-faced and liars. Rather, it suggests that there is more to each of us than what can be seen on the surface.
     As I explore the relevance of each city, I can't help but think of how their representations are paralleled in our own lives.

Tokyo
     Tokyo is a modern city. It is cosmopolitan. It has many different parts that all have specific tasks. It has a strong tradition in its castle area, a burgeoning technology in Electric Town, the tried and true businesses in Shinjuku, continued commerce in its world-renowned fish market, and awareness of self in a 47-story free observatory at its Metro Building. This is the first city that comes to mind for many who visit Japan.
     In the same way, when others think of who we are, it is the face we show them. It is the face that holds some tradition, but adapts to new situations. It is the face that relies on what has worked for us in the past, while trying to share with others what we have developed of ourselves. It is the face that stares back at us from the mirror.

Kyoto
     When I asked the hostel owner what there was to see in Kyoto she pointed out seven different sites on a map. Five of these were historical temples or shrines. Kyoto is what we see in the movies. It is the old buildings. It is the cultural hub of ancient Japan. It offers a glimpse into what has made Japan what it was in the past and has become today.
     This city represents our deeper traditions. There are deeper roots within us than many of us realize. There is a face that holds onto not only what has worked, but what has become our purpose. There is a part of us that says, "This is who I am." It does not matter if we say it out loud or to ourselves. It is always there nonetheless.

Osaka
     This city is described as being the major rival to Tokyo. It is a city that historically was founded by and for merchants, rather than samurai. It is and has always been a city of commerce. With Tokyo representing Japan as it is, Kyoto representing Japan as it was, Osaka represents Japan as it will be... or so everybody in Osaka will tell you anyway.
     Just as Osaka believes it is the city of the future for Japan, we all dream of a person we would like to one day be. It is this face that we try to share with others intentionally. We do our best each day to live as the individual we hope to become. While holding onto the purposes that have brought us this far, we all continually look for ways to adapt and evolve. Ever becoming a greater version of ourselves in the process.

Hiroshima
     No visit to Japan would be complete without visiting Hiroshima. It is described as the trip that every person on the planet should take at least once in their life. It is heavy. It is hard to visit the Peace Memorial Park and see all the monuments for countless types of people's who were killed. It is heartbreaking walking through the museum and the victims' information center to hear first-hand stories of how this terrible event effected individual innocent lives. But it is overwhelmingly inspiring to appreciate that the park is open 24/7/365. The museum is free to the public everyday of the year. Hiroshima has led the fight against war around the world. The city did not rally to blame anyone. They did not cry out for retribution. In their suffering they found their own voice and stand unified in sharing it with the whole world: "No more Hiroshimas."
     While these monuments, efforts, and information can demonstrate the need for peace, we can never know the extent of the suffering each individual felt dealing with the repercussions of the first nuclear bombing. However, we can find in ourselves suffering and turmoil that often feels like nobody could understand. In our suffering, we mourn. In our suffering, we unite with others who share experiences similar to ours. And, most importantly, if we can find the strength that this community found, in our suffering we find hope to fight for it to never happen again.

Itoshima
     Itoshima is a seaside city that most people have never heard of. It is a beautiful agricultural community that is surrounded by sprawling green hills and long sand beaches. While it is mostly unknown, it produces much of Japan's vegetables and houses the world-renowned Ichiran Ramen factory. Life is slow here.
     Our place of peace within ourselves often goes unnoticed by others. There is a part of us that is simply who it is. There is a part of us that accepts things simply as they are. This is our face of peace. And though most people we interact with will never know where it comes from, this place of peace is where our productivity comes from. This is the face that provides for most of the others.

A Walk in the Park

Atomic Bomb Dome

 At 8:15am on 6th August 1945, the first atomic bomb in human history was dropped on Hiroshima. Although, the Atomic Bomb Dome was located almost directly underneath the explosion, it somehow avoided complete destruction and the remains of the building still stand today. The residents of Hiroshima decided to keep this tragic reminder of war intact. The site was designated as a World Heritage Site in 1996.

Atomic Bomb Memorial Mound

The Atomic Bomb Memorial Mound is a large, grass-covered knoll that contains the cremated ashes of 70,000 unidentified victims of the bomb.

Korean Cenotaph

When the atomic bomb was dropped the lives of more than 20,000 Koreans were suddenly taken. Within the monument’s stone chest is a register bearing 2,663 names of Korean A-bomb victims who have been identified.

Memorial Cenotaph

The names of all those who lost their lives are inscribed inside the central stone vault regardless of nationality. It currently holds more than 290,000 names of those who lost their lives to the bomb and new names are discovered and added to the list every year.

Mother and Child in the Storm

Monument of the A-Bombed Teachers and Students of Elementary Schools

Children's Peace Monument

This monument was dedicated on Children's Day, 1958, to Sadako Sasaki, who was exposed to the atomic bombing when she was 2 years old. She developed leukemia ten years later and passed away. Shocked by her death, her classmates put out a national call to "build a monument to mourn all the children who died from the atomic bombing." With the support of students in more than 3,100 schools throughout Japan and nine other countries, including Great Britain, this 9 m-high bronze statue was completed.

Standing on the top of the three-legged dome pedestal is the bronze figure of a girl holding up a gold-colored folded paper crane. On the left and right flanks of the pedestal are suspended boy and girl figures symbolizing a bright future and hope. The stone underneath the pedestal is inscribed, "This is our cry. This is our prayer. For building peace in this world."

Peace Bell

This was installed with the aim of abolishing nuclear weapons and bringing about world peace. Cast by expert bell-caster and national treasure Masahiko Katori, a world map without national borders is on the surface of the bell to symbolize a single, unified world. People are free to strike the bell, so please take the opportunity to do so with a prayer for world peace.

New Leaves

Naked

     That's how traveling alone can feel sometimes. You feel out of place. You feel exposed. You feel unprotected. You feel vulnerable.
     Even with these feelings, you wonder sometimes whether or not you are getting a truly authentic cultural experience. There are a few questions you can ask to to discern how representative your experience really is:
     Are there locals here?
     Are the locals here speaking primarily in their native language?
     Do they express surprise that I am here with them?
     Am I the only foreigner here?
   
     An experience I had at a Japanese Onsen drove this point home succinctly. I knew my cultural experience was off to a good start when the receptionist didn't speak a word of English. I further knew that I was getting an authentic experience because the brochure she handed me to explain what couldn't be verbalized was also fully in Japanese. Through a series of pantomimes and pointing at pictures we were able to communicate to one another well enough.
     I took the bag she had given me with the towel and pajamas into the locker room. I tried several lockers wondering at how many of them were being used until I realized the wrist strap she gave me had a key tucked into it with a number on it. I found the corresponding locker and opened it right up. I put on the pajamas and started to make my way into the mineral pool area.
     "Where am I supposed to put these clothes and my towel when I am in the mineral pool?" I thought to myself.
     My answer revealed itself abruptly. As I walked in, everyone was staring at me. Some looked at me disapprovingly while others looked at me with pity, but all eyes were on me when I entered the room. I was the only man with any clothes on at all.
     "So this is how it's done," I realized.
     I walked back to the locker room and put the pajamas back into the locker. Taking only my towel with me this time, I returned to the mineral pools. I drew a few looks this time when entering the area, but they quickly turned away. Nothing strange was occurring.
     "Ok," I thought.
     I went back and forth between the scalding hot mineral pools, the frigid cold water pool, the blistering dry sauna, and the cleansing wet sauna for a couple of hours. During this time I began to notice certain courtesies that were used even in this most vulnerable environment.
     Men covered themselves with their towels until they were actually getting into the pools.
     Although the pools were generally large and could easily fit several people, most men would give each other a pool to themselves unless there were no other pools available.
     When sitting in a pool and noticing someone is waiting, a man would be considerate about not taking too much time before allowing the other man to have the pool after him.
     The towels were placed upon one's head while in a pool, so that it does not lie around outside in someone else's way.

     As I noticed these courtesies I also tried to implement them in my own behavior. Not only did I get less of a feeling that I was an outsider, but I even got a few bows of gratitude as I gave up a pool to someone new. I returned them in kind.
     It was an interesting experience that demonstrates that even at our most vulnerable we can make connections with one another. It is when we are stripped of all of the ways that we thought defined us that we are free to discover how we relate to one another.
     We can learn without being taught.
     We can express ourselves without words.
     We can demonstrate our personality without relying on appearance.
     We can adapt without being forced to.

     Perhaps it is at our most vulnerable that we are truly free to connect with one another.

In the Stillness

     As I finish up my shower, it feels strange to crawl directly into a big bathtub. I pull the top closed above me and rythmic music begins to be heard. It takes a moment of being in the water to realize that I don't have to make myself float. The salinity is so thick that all I have to do is just lie there. The music continues playing for another five minutes before I push the button on the side that turns off the light. Now there is just the rythmic music in the darkness. I feel muscles I didn't know were tense relax. The music continues for another five minutes before it fades out completely. Now there is just the darkness.
     Every breath is like the tide. I am fully aware of each time the breath moves through my nose and down into my lungs. There is a pause for just the briefest of moments. Then I am just as aware when my lungs give way to push it back out the same way it came in. My heartbeat is a metronome, ticking quietly in the background but always there nonetheless.

     In the darkness my thoughts begin to wander. I reflect on my life as it is, as it has been, and as I would like it to be. Faces join me in the dark. Friendly faces that I know have passed on already, but despite their passing they feel close nevertheless. I smile at each of them and feel it is returned. I find myself praying in the midst of an ever-changing cacophony of transcendent images. My prayers begin as they always do, with what I hope to receive. But as they continue, they evolve. The prayers of longing become prayers of gratitude for opportunity. These evolve further into prayers of gratitude for what I have been blessed with already and the wondrous experience that this life has been.
     Slowly this fades as well. Thoughts no longer have words attached to them. My breathing slows. Though I am still aware of it, the rythm has changed. It is slower and quieter. I am alone in the darkness, now without even my thoughts. I am simply overwhelmed... with gratitude.

     I rest easily, scarcely aware that it is happening.

     The music begins again. What starts as a whisper grows to chant. It is raising my awareness of the world around me. Deep drums beat to a steady rythm in the darkness. I enjoy their company. This continues for another ten minutes to signify to me that my time is finished here. I reach up into blackness and find a handle. I push it open and the light rushes in. I step out and rinse the salt from my body. Putting the same clothes on when I arrived, I am more aware of how each fabric touches my skin.
     I express my gratitude to the proprietor and make my way outside. Walking along the street, I find that my attention is drawn to the grass and the flowers whereas when I arrived my attention was always on the storefronts facing the street. Along the way back to the apartment, I am acutely aware through my shirt of when the sun is shining or shaded. I noticed flower patterns I have not seen in the previous three weeks I stayed here.

     What a wonder it is to see the world for what it is. How incredible to be fully aware of each individual movement my body makes. What a blessing it is to know that when everything is taken from our senses, the only thing left is gratitude.

Keep Climbing

Though you may not where the path will end, but it seems to be clear in front of you... keep climbing.

When the path is overgrown and the forest seems to be closing in... keep climbing.

As obstacles contort the path in front of you... keep climbing.

When you have the opportunity to see how far you have come, soak it in... keep climbing.

As the goals you set are just ahead... keep climbing.

To know what awaits you at the top of the mountain, you just have to do one simple thing... keep climbing.