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.