hibakusha

on friday, we had the chance to hear from a hibakusha, which is the japanese term for an atomic bomb survivor. now, after hearing from many dignitaries, we had to give little thank you speeches about how we were honored to talk to them, blahblahblah. after hearing this man talk however, I cannot think of a better word to describe how I felt. honored. lucky maybe. lucky that a certain confluence of events conspired that allowed me to be in japan and in that room at the exact same time as this man, who had barely survived. eye-opening

we in the US know about the atomic bomb. yes we used it, yes we feel kinda conflicted maybe, yes it helped end the war quicker, etc. this was different. and there is no way that I can do it justice. this man graciously and humbly, repeatedly apologizing for what he considered to be poor english, eloquently and powerfully described an experience that only a few thousand people left in this world ever experienced. the intense power of the blast, that was around 8,000 degrees at the hypocenter scorched things and people beyond recognition and, two kilometers away, blasted out the windows in the school building he was in. he vividly described the hellish scene of people staggering about with their flesh dripping off their skin and begging for water

with a poise I did not know existed, he explained that the hibakusha did not hate the US; they hate the bomb, and that ultimately, people are people. it sounds cliche, it sounds trite, but at that moment it was staggeringly beautiful

we were in a daze for the next several hours. I bought a dvd recording of his story. I hope that it retains its power back in the US -- perhaps in a classroom

it feels insignificant to go on and describe the rest of the day. I'll post this and come back later with another post to give details on the rest of the day