All right, since too much shit happened, it's back to highlights mode:
-Stayed at the World Friendship Center, a hostel run by American volunteers who are so nice, not only do they turn on the A/C before you get there, they place a little paper crane and chocolate on your pillow. Peaceful!
This place also served a Western breakfast. I had Cheerios for the first time in years. There were some other gaijin there too and I proceeded to embarrass myself by talking waay too much and sounding like those dorky backpackers trying to impart all their travel wisdom in the space of an hour. The adverse effects of living on a remote island.
- Later, I wandered around looking for a place to eat. I paused in front of one restaurant, trying to figure out what they were serving, when a group of Japanese boisterously invited me to join them. One of the salarymen owned a tiny bar (most bars in Japan are about the size of your childhood bedroom) and we moved the party over there. It just so happened that the bartender was playing Earth Wind and Fire and I taught all eight people there how to dance. After I finished my good deed for the evening, I stumbled back to the Friendship Center, stopping to make a pit stop behind a vending machine.
-I went to hear a hibakusha (atomic bomb survivor) speak. She told a group of twelve or so about the day of the bombing, the aftermath, and her work as a anti-nuclear bomb activist. She showed pictures of her visit to India, where they parade the nuclear bombs on the street. Later, I asked her who will continue the dialogue once the generation of hibakusha passes away. She just smiled and pointed at me and her translator.
And then I went upstairs to enter the Peace museum. I paused in front of a clock that is designed to self-destruct the closer we get to nuclear destruction. And suddenly I was overwhelmed by all that I had just taken in: the horror and sadness and discrimination of people who had lost everything, the naivete of a woman who believes all nuclear weapons will be abolished some day, the gross stupidity and lack of integrity world leaders seem to possess nowadays. I walked out the door and burst into tears. I called Stevhan and tried to tell him what was bursting out of my heart and instead I just bawled and scared away a few tourists. But I went back in, looked, listened, took it all in. And that's the best I can do right now, isn't it?
-After such a heavy morning, I went and took a nap. And being the ridiculous thing that I am, I took comfort in some shopping. And lo, I came across a Marc Jacobs store!! Oh my God! I'm so happy! I'm so ridiculous! I bought a skirt.
-I met up with the same posse from last night, after they insisted I try hiro-okonomiyaki ("It's facking good! Number One!!"). Osaka and Hiroshima have their own way of making this 'Japanese pancake'. Hiroshima cooks proudly make their version with soba noodles at the bottom and it's just a thing of joy.
It also makes everyone instantly happy. Except for dude with the hat. I don't know what's up with him. The two ladies at the end were also kind enough to teach me how to say "I'm on the rag" in Japanese. See, happy!
-Hiroshima at night feels very safe and romantic. Peace Park is well lit and couples wander along the paths, buskers practice underneath the bridges, and bums stretch out for a nap.
-The next day, I went out to the island of Miyajima, famous for its giant red torii.
Oh, did you need a closer look?
I took a ride up the local mountain in my own private bucket
(Seriously, when I become a millionaire, I'm gonna install buckets that connect to all my favorite brunch spots)
and looked for a monkey to pick a fight with.
I checked out this lovely, old shrine
and then dropped my camera on a rock, thus fucking up the display. Damn. I'm not responsible for how the photos turned out after this.
I wandered over to the airy Pavilion of 1000 Tatami where I enjoyed walking barefoot on the smooth wood floor.
This hall was built way before TV, so they hung up these paintings to stare at.
-Miyajima is overrun by deer who try to hustle you as soon as you get off the ferry.
They push their babies on you and are all like, "EEHHH! EEHH!"
- I am now the proud owner of the world's largest rice scooper. Call me if you wanna borrow it.
Hiroshima is a lovely city with a lot of civic pride. Miyajima is a charming albeit touristy town. But I was exhausted (especially after I took a wrong turn in Miyajima and ended up hiking down a fucking mountain path in flip flops), so I was happy to hop a ferry to Shikoku and reach Matsuyama, the city known for the famous Dogo Onsen.
-Public bathing facilities are very much a part of Japanese life. This onsen is famous for the celebrities and royalty that came to bathe. The empress of Japan had her very own shitter built just for her. Supposedly never used, but maybe she got up a couple of times after a rowdy night with the other royals, you know? And I thought Madonna herself came to bathe, seeing as there were so many shops named Madonna this and that. Turns out it's a character from "Botchan" by novelist Natsume Soseki, who set the story in Dogo Onsen and was a big fan of the joint.
I gave it a go and found it to be quite pleasant. I'm quite spoiled by the onsens of Kozu and Niijima (nothing beats bathing under the stars and in front of the sea) and even after a year of public bathing, I was still a little confused on bathing etiquette (I accidently sprayed an old lady with cold water. Nice move, gaijin.). I bought a scrubby brush (they say it's for your skin but I think they use it on pots and pans) and came out pink and new.
-Matsuyama also has a lovely white castle that overlooks the city. And I took a chair lift to get there! (Seriously, as soon as I get my first million....)
-Finally, I went to the Ninomaru Shiseki Tei-en gardens, these beautiful Japanese gardens with ponds filled with golden carps, a tea ceremony room (I also scared some housewives in the middle of their tea ceremony practice. Kudos again, gaijin!), and this beautiful little contraption for irrigation: they bury an earthenware jar underneath a little pool and when the water drips in, you hear a sound almost like a string being plucked. Okay, that was a totally shitty explanation, but it was cool putting my ear to a bamboo tube and listening to the mellow little drips. I didn't take any pictures because I didn't want to bother with the camera. And because it was raining, I had it mostly all to myself. It was beautiful, serene, and for a short time in the afternoon, all mine.
Next: Sleeping with a dead guy's ashes and the place where lovely and amazing live...
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