As I thought about today’s port, and later this retelling of the day, I struggled with how to respect the tragedy and the lives lost in Hiroshima…but also celebrate a city that literally rose from the ashes, and 80 years later gave us a really warm welcome and fun afternoon. Ultimately, they are connected, the past and the present, and so they will remain as one, but told in two parts.

Hiroshima, Part One

Arrival today was a little later than usual, so we were up and at ‘em by the time we sailed into the glassy waters of Hiroshima Bay. It’s ethereal and sort of mystical, the cloudy sky reflected in the water, the horizon broken up by the hills of neighboring islands that fade into the mist. The tops of oyster farming racks hang gently, their harvest hidden beneath the water’s calm surface.

Hiroshima is much like other Japanese cities we’ve visited: clean and calm, traversed by well kept roads and streetcars moving people around, the architecture rather nondescript. With our group of 20 or so, it’s not long before we are gathered in Peace Memorial Park. The sight of the “A-bomb dome” instantly weighs us down. Heavily. 

This is not going to be an easy visit. 

On the riverbank where we stand, the “T Bridge” is in front of us. It is – and was – a key artery in the city, and thus the intended target of Little Boy, the atomic bomb dropped by the US in World War II. In an instant, 80,000 people were killed, and by the end of 1945, that number grew to 140,000. As of this writing, about 330,000 deaths have been attributed to the a-bomb.

We are at one end of the expansive Peace Park, and our guide is slowly leading us across the grounds to the museum itself. She tells us the story of Sadako Sasaki who was not far from ground zero but survived. She was a toddler when it happened – just two years old – and lived another ten years before being diagnosed with acute leukemia. When she first fell ill, she became determined to fold 1,000 paper cranes, to wish for a cure and a long life…

The crane is considered a mystical, holy creature that lives for a thousand years. It is believed that if you fold 1,000 paper cranes, all in one year, your wish will be granted.

…she folded 644 cranes before she died. Her friends finished the 1,000 cranes so she could be buried with them all, and they soon began a campaign to install a children’s peace memorial to honor the lives of children who died due to the atomic bomb. Contributions poured in and this beautiful memorial was unveiled in 1958. To this day, people bring thousands of origami cranes…for healing, for peace. It is both terribly sad and hopeful at the same time.

Turning our attention back to the park, the “Peace Axis” comes into view. Traveling from the burned out dome to the eternal flame…to the cenotaph in which the names of A-bomb victims rest…through to the museum, and it then springs skyward with a fountain of hope. It’s beautifully designed, honorific and powerful and tragic. People are taking pictures in front of the cenotaph smiling, which is just odd. What are they smiling about?

There’s a long line into the exhibits but this is a must-do, as challenging as it’s going to be. Signs warn us of the graphic images, and caution about bringing children through. The whole thing is done incredibly well, beginning with an aerial view of the Hiroshima blast area before, during, and after the bomb detonated about 1800 feet above ground.

The museum curators did not hold back with the display, most of it too horrific to show you here. I could only take a couple pictures to give you a sense of the museum, and the words of witnesses will provide some of the feelings it evokes.

After the exhibit halls, a large section of the museum is dedicated to the elimination of nuclear weapons around the world. The goal, the hope, the dream? 

Never again.

Hiroshima, Part Two

After talking a bit about what we’ve just seen and then some quiet contemplation, Martine, Kara and I leave the group to explore the vibrant city that Hiroshima is today. Lunch is first on the agenda! It’s raining, so we duck into a close-by spot but it’s full. The host is so gracious, asking us what we’d like so he can suggest another option…we’re thinking ramen since we’re cold and wet…and he sends us to a place called Ichiran. It’s a bit of a cab ride but lands us in the middle of the hustle and bustle. Perfect.

Ichiran was…crazy! First stand here, then stand on the stairs, then place an order on a touchscreen, the machine spitting out multiple tickets that I’m not sure what each is for. Then stand over here, waiting for your “ramen focus booth.” Really?! We agree not to be seated together (hard to get three nooks in a row), ending up across the service hallway from each other. And we aren’t falling down drunk with neckties around our heads, so they let us in (sign translation: “those who are drunk are not allowed to enter the store”).

There is a lot of noise and even singing coming from behind the wall in front of each booth, but you never see a person. Just hands that reach in for your meal tickets, and then put the food through the slot, closing the bamboo curtain after you have everything. The best part of it all? The food was delicious. Seriously the best ramen I’ve ever had. When can we come back?!

Time now to go wander the streets, and we end up in Taito Station, an arcade of sorts boasting five floors of fun: three of grabber games and capsule machines, a floor of video games, the top floor being a dress-up studio. This even had make-up and hair stations so you could get yourself all done up before your photo shoot (assuming you are a small teenage girl). 

We spend far too much time and just a bit of money playing around in this insanity. It’s kind of addicting cause you’re sure the next time you’ll get it. And we manage to win a super Mario brothers set!

We stroll the streets and shops before stopping for some ice cream at – yes – Baskin Robbins. They are everywhere here, and we must try some of the local flavors. It seems the chart-topper is “Popping Shower,” so we have to order that, and I’m feeling adventurous so also try the Azuki bean. Popping Shower doesn’t actually pop (dammit!) but it’s really good. The Azuki bean is…interesting.

Feeling done for the day, we hail a cab and the friendly driver takes us back to the ship (even if they don’t speak English, they all know “cruise terminal”). As we ramble through the city streets, we contemplate the day we’ve had Hiroshima.

A city with a horrific past…an electric present…connected and co-existing…as they must.