After a frightening night in truly the most disgustingly filthy youth hostel yet, I eagerly took off for Hiroshima. My desire to hurriedly shake the dust off my feet from the place led to one major disappointment, leaving my razor and Dr. Bronner’s Castile Soap behind. Damn.
Hiroshima is a very nice city, with a great train station and brand new youth hostel. Yeah!!! This one is the exact opposite of the previous night’s stay and 730 Yen cheaper a night. Things to be grateful for…
I met a great pair of travelers, Harold and Bo, who went to university together. We decided to tackle the town together, in the poring rain. We wandered past the Atomic Dome, the only remaining building from the attack left purposefully in desolate condition, then on in search of "Hiroshima Pancakes".
This local delicacy is a layered extravaganza of flavors. The grill master starts by frying a crepe type pancake and then fries noodles in a round patty. Stack that on top of the crepe and add a heaping helping of shredded cabbage with two strips of bacon. Flip so that the bacon and cabbage side is now facing the grill. Start to fry one egg. Flip the stack so that the crepe is once again facing the grill and add soft egg to top. Finish with oyster sauce and bingo you just made a Hiroshima Pancake.
With full bellies we headed off for the Hiroshima Peace Museum. My emotional guards were up for about the first hour and fifteen minutes of the museum tour.
Photos/maps of the devastation (Atomic Dome below) were followed by shredded school clothing under glass.
Then, unexpectantly, my heart was completely broken at a point in the museum tour where you can touch a piece of roof tiling, bubbled from the heat of the atomic blast. Something visceral happened when the exhibit stopped being "behind glass" and entered my world.
Then there was a watch permanently stopped at 8:15am.
This was followed by a haunting human stain, on the stone stairs of the Hiroshima Bank Building, physically displayed in the museum. All that remained was a shadow of a seated person on the stairs. This was truly, richly, impactful.
We left the museum in the dark of early evening, with the added ambience of a drying sky and glistening wet pavement that reflected the eternal flame. No matter your personal rationale for either dropping the bomb or protesting its use, the human loss of war was clearly displayed.
No comments:
Post a Comment