Barbara J. Hamby

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May 18th - Hiroshima

Hiroshima Peace Park

Our bus tour of Hiroshima began at 2:00 p.m. Our guide was a beautiful young Japanese woman, rail thin and just over six feet tall. She spoke well, but her knowledge seemed limited to the prepared material she had been given. Al’s questions, as well as some of the others, threw her off guard. There were three brief stops. The first was a mountaintop in the city (ala Mt. Tabor) that afforded a good view of the entire city on a clear day. Not only was the day hazy, but lush trees and foliage blocked part of the view.

Our guide reported that, just after the atomic bombing in 1945, researchers advised that the rebuilding of Hiroshima and regrowth of vegetation would take 75 years. That proved to be untrue. Many trees were sent to the city from all over Japan and around the world. Hiroshima is a bustling, thriving city today with abundant cherry blossoms in the spring and various other types of trees all through the downtown streets.

The human population did not fare so well. There are still deaths from cancer, leukemia, etc. that are attributed to the after effects of radiation.

Our second and longest stop was at the A-Bomb dome, the only structural ruin of the war left erect in the city. It was formerly the Industrial Promotion Hall. It stands as a burned-out skeleton. The bomb exploded above that building. It’s located in what is now Peace Park. Tour groups of Japanese school children visit there every day. A bell in the park is reportedly rung at 8:15 each morning in memory of the dead.

Our tour guide had told us how every Japanese parent wants his/her children to learn English to have more opportunities. She warned us that school children might approach us to practice their English. At the Peace Park, a boy of ten to twelve years of age walked up to me and announced in perfect English, “My father?s name is ___________.” I can’t remember the name.
I then asked,
“What is your name?”
He responded: “My name is ________.”
I said, “My name is Barbara.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” he smiled at me.
I put out my hand and he shook it. When he left to catch up with his group of students, he said, “Goodbye.”
“Sayonara,” I replied. He stopped in his tracks.
“Thank you,” with surprise. He ran on, but turned to wave at me several times before he was out of sight.

The third and last stop was at Hiroshima Castle. We parked quite a ways from it. The city of Hiroshima was actually named for the ancient castle, Hiroshimajo, built in 1589. The original was destroyed in World War II and replaced since then. We took pictures of a sculpture on a fountain near there and of the castle in the distance.

After returning to the ship, we had a light supper at the pizzeria. Al had pizza and I, feeling daring, tried the non-cheese Foccacia pizza. A large circle of bread was covered with minced raw vegetables--no cheese, no tomato sauce. Not delectable. I ate most of the veggies and left most of the bread, thankful for the cup of pumpkin soup I’d had before the faux pizza.

Thus ended a long and tiring day. Peace Park provided very emotional experiences for me, probably more so than Gettysburg, Little Big Horn or Flanders Fields. I went to bed with my head full of pictures, both pleasant and horrifying.