• 30 . 12 . 04

  • Hiroshima, a city that can’t escape its association with the past, but which doesn’t play the victim and is determined to use its history as a parable for the world.

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How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb

Today was one of the best days I’ve had in Japan and certainly the most moving. The morning dawned gray, with a light drizzle, which my English teacher would have been inclined to call Pathetic Fallacy, reflecting our general mood. We started off by eating some great Okonomiyaki, a Hiroshiman speciality, filled with various seafoods.

We journeyed into the downtown district on one of the trams, which are a source of local pride. They were up and running again just 3 days after the Atomic bomb detonation and it’s considered courteous to ride them at least once. They announce the next stop in Japanese as you are travelling but, somewhat embarrassingly, the stop outside the A-Bomb Dome is the only one to have an English translation. This underscored the uneasiness I had of being a tourist visiting a place with such a terrible history.

The rest of this post was lost in a flood, sorry.

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