I remember when I first heard of the city of Hiroshima. It was around my teenage puppy fat era that I went through circa fourteen years old. Several sequential high school history lessons focused on the US/Japanese relations around the time of World War Two. As one of the subjects I was most keen on and very much unlike her despairing physics counterpart, there was no real challenge for my history teacher in keeping me engaged.

Indeed, I could have regurgitated more to you then about the intricacies of European history then than I could now. The passage of time has a way of grating away the crisper details of a once sponge-like adolescent brain. I still remember the tears that rolled, during one class, from the innocent eyes of a fellow classmate, whose heritage was part Japanese. The horror of the atrocities documented in our textbooks, the onus of having it confirmed verbally by a teacher who we respected unquestionably, was too much for her to contain.

It was for these reasons and my Dad’s insistence, bordering on assertion that I must not go to Japan without visiting Hiroshima that alongside Tokyo and Kyoto, it became one of the three essential cities firmly ingrained into an itinerary for a Japan trip that had not even been conceived at that stage let alone pinned down in time.

Nobody visits the memorial museum in Hiroshima without anticipating a level of emotional upset but nothing quite prepared me for the profound impact of visiting a city like this until I actually arrived in person. I chose to write about it partly to share my own reflections but mostly to fulfill a promise we made that day.

The Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park

Upon stepping off the tram at the Peace Park stop, we crossed the road to find ourselves immediately inside the Hiroshima Peace Park grounds. With broad boulevards, spotlessly groomed lawns and bursts of spring blossoms, the very layout exuded a dignified tranquility. Benches were a-plenty and contrary to what I expected, it seemed there were just as many locals seated contentedly under the midday sun as there were tourists pointing lenses at the memorial statues.

The A-Bomb Dome (atomic bomb dome) as it has long been referred to, is perhaps the most visually striking preservation of the literal moment of impact when the bomb was dropped. In the aftermath of the bombing, the Genbaku Dome was the only remaining building still standing. The decision was made to maintain and preserve the original wreckage after initially dividing opinion among local citizens, some of whom were unsurprisingly wary of the heartbreaking memories it would evoke.

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