WELCOME TO JAPAN – PART 2

After meeting up with my sewing buddy, Phyllis, her husband, and their friend in Osaka, it was time to take the train, a tram/train, and the ferry to get to Naoshioma, the art island I had chosen as my input into our itinerary.

In case you didn’t know, for almost 30 years I owned the company and led textile tours for groups of women sewists to locations all over the world. After retiring, and my husband passing, I learned to love traveling solo, or with one very good friend who shared the same interests and outlook on life as mine. Now, for the first time in years, I was once again traveling with almost virtual strangers.

This is when you learn that just because you chose a location that you think will be interesting, fun, educational, and different… there might be those in your small group who won’t even extend a little bit to try to like or enjoy the experience you’ve planned. This was when it hit me – I’m the single – and they are the ‘they.’ I was outnumbered by a group of people, 2 of which were men. I was quickly beginning to ask myself how I had agreed to this? I just kept telling myself I was in JAPAN!

I had specifically chosen to visit this island because it showcased some of the larger works by Yayoi Kusama,

I had just seen her exhibit at SFMoMA. She of the polka-dotted pumpkins! The entire exhibit just made me SMILE!

This was the first thing we saw as we arrived at the Naoshima ferry landing. I was so happy to be here.

The weather was not cooperating. It was cold, damp, and rainy. I had chosen a lovely small boutique hotel up on the hill, My Lodge Naoshima, with lovely rooms, each with a beautiful view of the bay, and only a 10-minute walk from the ferry dock. It was only when we landed that I learned one of the group should have gotten his hip replaced years ago. Walking any distance, and certainly up a hill was not doable.

We had arrived on a Sunday, and late in the day, so the taxis had all gone home for the day. One of the group called the hotel and literally yelled at the owner! (Remember this – if you do not speak the language of the country you are visiting, you only need to yell louder in English to make them understand you!) The hotel sent one of their staff in their own car to pick us up. I was mortified.

There were other kerfuffles during the stay, including breakfasts, dinner arrangements, and transportation, but I loved the time I spent exploring this island filled with art and kind and gentle people.

Phyllis did join me for a colorful city bus ride from the ferry dock to the center of town. We walked for several hours through tiny, winding streets discovering small and large art displays, a hand-made quilt hanging on the clothesline, signs especially for seniors that made us laugh, helpful locals to point us in the right direction, and beautiful vistas. We were lucky to find and take a photo of the one and only blooming cherry tree we would see during our entire visit – even though the official cherry tree website stated they were all ‘scheduled’ to bloom while we were there.

The one place that is not highly marketed as being on this island, which we only found during our wandering, was The Chichu Art Museum. The entire group walked through this amazing display of solid cement walls, with only daylight and single, colored objects to enlighten the vast spaces.

There were absolutely no photographs allowed, so the one below is an aerial view from their website. If you click the link you can see ‘official photos’ of some of the weird and spatial displays featured inside. Words alone cannot describe how it feels to stand ‘in’ and become a living part of the displays.

Then it was time to get back on the ferry, then the tram/train and the train/train to head to Hiroshima where we would spend the next 2 nights.

The sun was shining the next morning as we easily found the local bus to take us from our hotel to the Peace Memorial. We split up to tour the grounds outside before walking through huge rooms filled with photos and displays of what man can do to his fellow man in the name of war.

As you most know, on Monday, August 6, 1945, at 8:15 a.m. (Hiroshima time), the American Boeing B-29 Superfortress, the Enola Gay, flown by Paul Tibbets , dropped the nuclear weapon “Little Boy” on Hiroshima, directly killing at least 70,000 people, including thousands of Korean slave laborers. Fewer than 10% of the casualties were military. By the end of the year, injury and radiation brought the total number of deaths to 90,000–140,000. The population before the bombing was around 345,000. About 70% of the city’s buildings were destroyed, and another 7% were severely damaged.

The Genbaku Dome (top row of photos – far right) is the only structure left standing near the hypocenter of the first atomic bomb explosion. Through the efforts of many people, including those of the city of Hiroshima, this ruin has been preserved in the same state as was immediately after the bombing. Not only is it a stark and powerful symbol of the most destructive force ever created by humankind, it also expresses the hope for world peace and the ultimate elimination of all nuclear weapons.

We agreed to meet up in the coffee shop of the Memorial building after touring the horribly depressing and gut-wrenching display of photos, artifacts, and storyboards.

FYI, our group was made up of a retired rabbi, two rabbinical school teachers, and me, a lapsed, liberal Christian who has had the privilege to travel the world, making friends wherever I have gone and learning much of the history of each place I have visited.

I finished the tour first and the men were the first to join me at the table where I was sitting. After bitching that there wasn’t table service and the coffee was expensive and not very good, one had the nerve to state, in a voice loud enough to be heard by those sitting around us, that they had had it much worse, had suffered much more during WWII than the Japanese.

What does one say or do in that situation? What can you say or do? I walked out. I walked through the massive Peace Garden, sat, and looked at the area surrounding me. I visualized the photos of this area I had just seen inside the Memorial which had turned my stomach and wondered how you compare the total devastation of a people, no matter where they are from or what their religious beliefs may be? Why is there even a need to compare such things? One is not better or worse than the other – they were all just people trying to survive a world war – of which so many didn’t.

I hadn’t yet reached a decision as to how I could manage to continue to travel with this group. We were basically tied together – the same itinerary, the same hotels for the next 2 1/2 weeks while in Japan. Phyllis found me sitting on my bench and persuaded me to join the others for a lunch of Hiroshima okonomiyaki – a specialty she assured us we could not miss trying – one she had loved from her childhood visits here.

The bottom photo in the group of pictures above, and the one of me smiling (it really was delicious and so fun to watch being made) are from our lunch at one of the many restaurants that make only this dish. It is really very healthy! It’s made from:

・Eggs
・Soba noodles
・Pork belly
・Scallions
・Bean sprouts
・Cabbage
・Dough made by thinly melting flour

I had the great pleasure of sitting next to this lovely lady during lunch who spoke enough English to share with me more about the dish we were eating, the history of this particular restaurant (our chef was the great-granddaughter of the original owner), and tell me a little about herself. Meeting people like her is the reason I love to travel. And yes, I really wanted her jacket and scarf!

After another night at the hotel, we caught the trains back to Kyoto, to the same hotel where I had stayed, where we would all be spending the next week. It would prove to be an interesting week.

Until next time….