The Homestay, day 2
or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb** Kubrick reference...
Sunday morning, had breakfast with the family. Eggs cooked Japanese-style - which means effectively an omelette that's been rolled into a, well, a roll, and then sliced into pieces, perfect for eating with chopsticks. We also had left-over salad from the night before, some fruit, and a wonderful hot drink called soba, made from the same stuff as soba noodles. I was sent back with some to make on my own. It's supposed to be good for the blood.
So we get into the car, head out to the ferry landing, to cross the Ariake Sea, over to Nagasaki. The drive was easy and quick. I passed the time sharing my camera with the older son, and working on my Japanese with the younger one. Eventually I took out my Japanese phrasebook, and began saying whatever was on the page I opened to at random. I think this gave the family quite a thrill...
On the ferry we parked the car and went above deck. It seems my host father knows everyone - on the ferry there, and again on the way back, we met former colleagues from his schools, former students, and younger sisters of his former students. And everyone was welcoming and warm, and an English teacher tried his skills out on me. I must admit that his English improved more than my Japanese did...
Then we arrived at Nagasaki, parking near a gift shop (with some great t-shirts!), and walked to the peace statue, then down the peace memorial mall, finally to the atomic bomb museum, our true destination.
I have been asked frequently what I thought of the museum, how moving it was, heartbreaking, heartwrenching...and I haven't really known how to reply. So here's a summary:
The museum is very well put together. It features remains of Nagasaki that have been brought together, including pieces of local churches and schools, clothes of people exposed to the blast, and small pieces of glass, formed into beads after stained glass windows were turned instantly molten and then instantly cooled again. There was also a section describing the physical conditions at the moment of the blast: incredible temperatures and pressure at the hypocenter, the incredible winds blowing structures over and deforming huge pieces of metal, the layer of oil of water in the bay rendering it undrinkable. There is a wealth of information on the effects of radiation associated with the detonation of the atomic bomb, going into depth about the immediate and long-term effects. There are testimonies by both short- and long-term survivors, and a memorial to a foreign doctor who was in Nagasaki at 11:02 on August 9th, and worked to help as many people as he could, before finally succumbing to radiation sickness years later. And there is poetry:
The words of surrender
Mingle with the flames
Of my wife's funeral pyre
-Atsoyuki Matsuo
And finally, nearly half of the museum, is dedicated to the mission of peace and nuclear disarmament. There are excepts of letters from scientists and politicians stating their concerns over the use of nuclear weapons; there is an enormous amount information on the history of nuclear technology, both in weapons production and energy-creation, and accidents related to both uses; there are thousands of origami cranes, folded to ask for peace in the world.
Ample evidence is given to support the viewpoint of the atomic bombs that I have come to understand while in Japan: it is a travesty that the bombs were dropped, but to move forward means to remember it and to learn from it, working to ensure that it is never repeated in the human future. (Two hours ago I read of the North Korean nuclear test, the UN's sanction response, and the NK response to it as a 'declaration of war,' citing principally the US's need for control. In Nagasaki, at the peace statue, there were a group of people protesting the actions of North Korea; at that point, I had not idea this was happening.)
Lunch that afternoon was in Chinatown. (I let my host father pay the ¥200 admission fee for the museum, on the understanding that I would be allowed to buy lunch. Turns out, even in Japan, it's not uncommon to back out of a deal.) Food had nothing in common with Chinese food I've had in the past. Not better, not worse, but I must admit I'll stick with my General Tso's chicken.
Then the day was over, so we headed back to the ferry. Late. Missed the ferry. We called Naoko-san to apologize, and it turns out she made a reservation for 15 of us for dinner that night.
We got back at 6, two hours late. Out to dinner with my host family, Jean and her host daughter (Hikomi) and Hikomi's sister, Miki-san (our wonderful translator), Virginia, MaryAnn, and another woman, a tea ceremony performer, who wanted me to teach her English.
After dinner, bowling. Even in Japan, bowling is exactly the same, and I'm not better than in the states. What I would have given for a pool table...
キップ
Sunday morning, had breakfast with the family. Eggs cooked Japanese-style - which means effectively an omelette that's been rolled into a, well, a roll, and then sliced into pieces, perfect for eating with chopsticks. We also had left-over salad from the night before, some fruit, and a wonderful hot drink called soba, made from the same stuff as soba noodles. I was sent back with some to make on my own. It's supposed to be good for the blood.
So we get into the car, head out to the ferry landing, to cross the Ariake Sea, over to Nagasaki. The drive was easy and quick. I passed the time sharing my camera with the older son, and working on my Japanese with the younger one. Eventually I took out my Japanese phrasebook, and began saying whatever was on the page I opened to at random. I think this gave the family quite a thrill...
On the ferry we parked the car and went above deck. It seems my host father knows everyone - on the ferry there, and again on the way back, we met former colleagues from his schools, former students, and younger sisters of his former students. And everyone was welcoming and warm, and an English teacher tried his skills out on me. I must admit that his English improved more than my Japanese did...
Then we arrived at Nagasaki, parking near a gift shop (with some great t-shirts!), and walked to the peace statue, then down the peace memorial mall, finally to the atomic bomb museum, our true destination.
I have been asked frequently what I thought of the museum, how moving it was, heartbreaking, heartwrenching...and I haven't really known how to reply. So here's a summary:
The museum is very well put together. It features remains of Nagasaki that have been brought together, including pieces of local churches and schools, clothes of people exposed to the blast, and small pieces of glass, formed into beads after stained glass windows were turned instantly molten and then instantly cooled again. There was also a section describing the physical conditions at the moment of the blast: incredible temperatures and pressure at the hypocenter, the incredible winds blowing structures over and deforming huge pieces of metal, the layer of oil of water in the bay rendering it undrinkable. There is a wealth of information on the effects of radiation associated with the detonation of the atomic bomb, going into depth about the immediate and long-term effects. There are testimonies by both short- and long-term survivors, and a memorial to a foreign doctor who was in Nagasaki at 11:02 on August 9th, and worked to help as many people as he could, before finally succumbing to radiation sickness years later. And there is poetry:
The words of surrender
Mingle with the flames
Of my wife's funeral pyre
-Atsoyuki Matsuo
And finally, nearly half of the museum, is dedicated to the mission of peace and nuclear disarmament. There are excepts of letters from scientists and politicians stating their concerns over the use of nuclear weapons; there is an enormous amount information on the history of nuclear technology, both in weapons production and energy-creation, and accidents related to both uses; there are thousands of origami cranes, folded to ask for peace in the world.
Ample evidence is given to support the viewpoint of the atomic bombs that I have come to understand while in Japan: it is a travesty that the bombs were dropped, but to move forward means to remember it and to learn from it, working to ensure that it is never repeated in the human future. (Two hours ago I read of the North Korean nuclear test, the UN's sanction response, and the NK response to it as a 'declaration of war,' citing principally the US's need for control. In Nagasaki, at the peace statue, there were a group of people protesting the actions of North Korea; at that point, I had not idea this was happening.)
Lunch that afternoon was in Chinatown. (I let my host father pay the ¥200 admission fee for the museum, on the understanding that I would be allowed to buy lunch. Turns out, even in Japan, it's not uncommon to back out of a deal.) Food had nothing in common with Chinese food I've had in the past. Not better, not worse, but I must admit I'll stick with my General Tso's chicken.
Then the day was over, so we headed back to the ferry. Late. Missed the ferry. We called Naoko-san to apologize, and it turns out she made a reservation for 15 of us for dinner that night.
We got back at 6, two hours late. Out to dinner with my host family, Jean and her host daughter (Hikomi) and Hikomi's sister, Miki-san (our wonderful translator), Virginia, MaryAnn, and another woman, a tea ceremony performer, who wanted me to teach her English.
After dinner, bowling. Even in Japan, bowling is exactly the same, and I'm not better than in the states. What I would have given for a pool table...
キップ
posted by kip at 21:56
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home