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Published: September 9th 2010
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When entering Nagasaki, you almost feel as though you are back in Europe. The port and thickly-wooded hills provide the backdrop, as trams effortlessly slide through the streets and exposed wires hang down bustling side alleys. Cafe culture thrives. Lisbon, San Francisco and Naples are all cities that come to mind, and are referred to proudly by locals as points of reference. It is therefore hard to believe that just 65 years ago, 4 square km of this vibrant city was flattened, and pain and sorrow brought to so many in an incident that changed warfare forever.
At 11.02am on the 9th of august 1945, the 'Fatman' nuclear bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, the second bomb to be dropped on Japan after Hiroshima's only days previously. Ironically, it was only by a twist of fate that Nagasaki was the unfortunate target for this weapon, as the primary target, Kokura, had to be avoided due to cloud cover. The bomb missed it's primary target, the Mitsubishi weapons factory, and instead exploded over the Urakimi cathedral. The rest, as they say, is history. Immediate deaths are believed to have been between 45,00 and 70,000, with many, many more thousands killed by the
effects of radiation and associated illnesses. Structurally, a huge area was simply razed to the ground and became radioactive for many years afterward.
Personally, I find it hard to comprehend. How do you begin to rebuild lives, a city, and families after such a tragedy? How did the people of Nagasaki deal with the sorrow but inevitable anger they must have felt in the proceeding years? But most of all, the question that persisted throughout my stay was however can dropping a nuclear bomb of any size be justified, even in the context of war?
A very-well constructed peace park, memorials and museum attempt to answer some of these questions. The park was constructed in a manner that allows wide, open spaces for contemplation. Strings of brightly coloured origami cranes (the Japanese symbol of luck and long life) hang from every memorial, bench and statue. People pause for contemplation, reflection. The museum is equally well put together, with a mixture of artifacts, time-lines, visual demonstrations and personal accounts giving a considered, objective account of the events leading up to and after the dropping of the bomb. It is indeed these personal accounts that provide a much needed first-hand
perspective. It is hard to fight back the tears when reading the account of one little girl, who contemplates how in 1947, just two years on, her peers play and laugh in the playground where her mother's ashes now mingle with the dust and dirt.
The exhibition correctly ends looking to the future, and takes a pro-active stance where members of the public are encouraged to actively oppose nuclear testing and development. It is told how every year, more countries obtain nuclear weapons and nuclear tests have been conducted across the world, as we increasingly teeter on the brink of nuclear conflict.
Myself, Andy and Tim (an American), left in a very sombre mood as we struggled to understand how such suffering evident in Hiroshima and Nagasaki could fail to be a deterrent to the development of more nuclear weapons. We agreed that all world leaders should be required to make a trip to Nagasaki, to see the fallout from such drastic action. Nevertheless, we all felt very humbled and even more appreciative of how Nagasaki has risen from the ashes.
And rise it has. The locals are keen to point out how, although the tragedy of
1945 will never be forgotten, Nagasaki has much to offer the resident and tourist. In my delightful four days there, I met so many new friends; Olivier from France, Urs and Andy from Switzerland and Tim from the US. In our group we watched fireworks over the harbour, and ate Japanese yakitorri. We enjoyed fresh sushi, a bewildering experience with boisterous chefs, tottering piles of plates and unidentifiable slabs of seafood fresh from the ocean. With them I experienced my first karaoke (or kah-rey-oh-kay as it must be pronounced)*. We toured the area with a free local guide, who gave us superb, frank insights into not only the history of shrines, bomb shelters and statues, but also his own personal history (upon hearing that his father would have been directly under the bomb explosion if it were not for an injury three days prior to the blast, it was hard not to once again feel melancholy). On our final day, we relaxed on an island a 20 minute ferry ride away, and bathed in salt-water onsen, flirted with Japanese university students at the beach and gorged ourselves on an extravagant seafront bbq at a local hotel.
I honestly cannot
recommend Nagasaki enough to anyone with a few days free in southern Japan. It not only opened my eyes to a segment of history that I had previously neglected, but it enabled me to meet so many great friends and further expose myself to the welcoming nature of the Japanese people. However I do fear that we may have ruined the whole Beatles and Queen catalogue for anyone within earshot of our raucous karaoke session. For that, I apologise profusely.
*I'm not sure if there is a sadder sight than three grown men stumbling through their 'doo dad dees' and 'da da Dos' in a painful Police tribute, but nevertheless it was drunkenly enjoyed by all participants.
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