Burnd and Maggie (our hosts who I had enjoyed dinner out with the previous evening) had prepared a decent spread. I was excited to see a bowl of fresh fruit, and also yogurts, a staple of my usual diet which I had been missing. There was also four kinds of cereal, and toast... Everyone staying at the WFC had breakfast together at 8, so I got to meet the other guests. One was from Europe (I think East Europe - she wasn't very chatty), two from New Zealand who were at the start of a three month cross-continental trip, an Asian lady (also not chatty), and an American guy from California. We all discussed where we had been and where we were going, it was nice to be able to talk.
After breakfast Burt spoke to me and the other European girl (who had also checked in only last night) about the mission of the WFC, to educate foreigners on the danger and evil of atomic warfare, to teach Japanese adults English, and to provide a support group for survivors of the atom bomb.
I packed my bag and brought it inside, just in time to meet Kasoka-san, a survivor of the bomb (The Japanese have a special word for it - a Hibakusha). Kasoka-san's niece was waiting at the table we had just had breakfast at to translate for her, and all of us gathered around to hear her story.
Kasoka-san was twelve years old on August 6th 1945. She, like many Japanese middle school children, had given up her schooling to help with the war effort, helping to pull down some of Hiroshima's tightly packed buildings to create fire breaks in case of fire bombing, which Tokyo had seen extensively. Hiroshima had received conspicuously little attention in the way of air raids, and many of the buildings were timber built, so the pulling down of houses was to prepare for the worst. That particular day was Kasoka-san's day off, and at 8.15 she had just put out the laundry and cleared away the breakfast dishes. Her parents had gone into town to help a friend, and so she was alone with her grandmother. Kasoka-san told us she was in front of a window when the bomb hit. Thee was a very bright "beautiful" flash of light, the window shattered into her face, and then she blacked out.
When Kasoka-san came around, she felt blood on her face, but feeling no pain, ran to the air raid shelter with her grandmother. She told us how none of the adults knew what had happened. When they came up from the shelter, many of their houses (3km from the bomb) had been knocked over by the force of the blast.
It is harrowing, and not my story to tell, but Kasoka-san told us of the black rain that fell, of a neighbour who returned from the city with skin pink from burns, of how she tried to nurse her dying father who had ben too close to the epicentre, and of the ghost like people she saw on their way to the military hospital by her house. Her mother never returned, and was cremated en mass.
Whilst we were given a good overview of that happened that day, Kasoka-san:s story was moving and personal, and I doubt I shall ever forget it. At one point I had tears in my eyes as she spoke. I asked her if she:d been scared, and she said yes, she ran and hid inside from the ghost people. With all the horrific things she had seen though, she had just dealt with them as they had happened. I cannot repeat how she described her father's condition, but she tried to cool him with grated vegetables, and broke the top off a bottle of beer so that he could drink it as it was his favourite thing, though he was unable to. She said her lasting regret was that at the time they had been told not to let burns victims drink water as it would kill them, and she still regretted not giving her father the drink he begged for. She was only twelve. Even at my age, I think I'd just run straight back inside that air-raid shelter and cry until it was over.
After the story, three of us (including Maggie's Japanese language teacher, who had turned up that morning) went to the Peace Park, where we took a guided tour. I had no idea that there were so many monuments in the park, and it was great to have someone with the knowledge to show us the significance of so many. We also stopped by the A-bomb dome, the closest building to the centre of the blast to have survived in any part, and also a plaque for the hypocentre, a hospital which has been rebuilt in the same place today.
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| The A-bomb dome. I'm not sure what my face is doing here but it felt inappropriate to take many photos. |
After the tour I couldn:t face the museum. I found it hard to imagine such devistation in such a bright, lively city as Hiroshima is today. It:s full of normal people going about their day-to-day business just like any city which hasn't been raised to the ground. 140,000 people died as a result of that single bomb. 70,000 died on the spot, and their ashes are held in a special mausoleum for unidentifiable victims, either because there was nobody left to identify them, or because they were too burnt to tell.
After that sombre morning, I took a speedboat directly from the park to Miyajima island, my first day in Japan where I haven't used a train!
Miyajima island is a holy place within sight of Hiroshima city. It is also home to thousands of semi-tame deer. I met one pretty much straight on the boat. Remembering yesterday:s rabbits (was it really only yesterday?!) I took a quick photo before continuing on towards my hotel for the night. I had four hours left before sunset and I was on a mission!
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| Bambi and co. |
As I arrived at the hotel, I realised why it had cost nearly twice as much as the WFC. It was another fancy hotel (with Onsen, yes!) and I dumped my bag and took my day-pack up to grab a cable car (or as they call them in Japan, Ropeway) up Mount Misen, the highest point on the mountain. The cable cars were crammed with eight people (and three of us were European size!) but luckily the windows opened so it wasn't too stuffy. We were all literally shoulder to shoulder.
At the top I had the option to climb to the summit, but I established from hikers returning the other way that there were no monkeys there, and that was my primary interest with the top of the mountain. So instead I took the reportedly scenic route down, heading towards Daisho-in temple.
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| My excuse for this selfie is that there wasn't enough room in the car to get the camera further away from my face! |
The temple itself was right at the bottom of the walk, an array of fantastic traditional buildings snuggled into the hillside and encircled with sakura. It was stunning, but the sun was too low for any spectacular photos. I resolved to return in the morning before I left for Kyoto.
In the main town, which was thronging with tourists, I found a pub with an English Menu offering vegetable tempura. I dove in and, dodging all the conger eel on the menu (tempura, sashimi, steamed or broiled) I ordered tempura, omelette, and rice. I even had a dessert, which was the typical japanese dessert of egg custard, but instead of caramel this had blueberry jam on top, and in the middle was a small random slice of yam. I left just in time to watch the sun go down.
Miyajima is famous for its Tori gate, which is part way out to sea. When the tide is low (as it was now) tourists flocked to it to take photos, and in the sunset it glowed bright orange. With its distinctive shape, it also looked amazing silhouetted against the sun setting between the distant mountains on the mainland.
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| The Miyajima Tori gate |
I returned to the gate at night to photograph it lit up. The tide never came in but it looked great anyway. On the way back I saw some more Miyajima wildlife - a small racoon like creature snuffling throuh the undergrowth. It was kind of cute but I was wary of it. As I wandered back to the hotel in the dark, the stories of Kasoka-san's ghosts began to come back to me, I couldn't believe the horror she must have felt.
The steaming onsen soon relaxed me though. I had them to myself, and it was an unexpected bonus as I thought I had experienced onsen for the last time. The hotel was similar to the Ryokan in that I also had a yukata and slippers, but the bedrooms were in a western style.
