When I lived in Japan, my visit to Hiroshima was one of the most horrific and humbling experiences of my life. My friends and I were immediately struck by how well-planned the city was. The memorial peace park was expansive, beautiful, and green, three extremely rare qualities in a country that covers its 1/5 of non-mountainous land with as much concrete as possible. I felt sick thinking this place is gorgeous because it was wiped clean not so long ago, and people gave some careful thought on how to rebuild it.
After hours of soaking in the tragedy inside the museum - from the life size diorama of skin melting off of mothers to the narratives of drinking black rain to survive, we ventured through the sculpted green lawns sprinkled with bronze statues of people hugging in desperation, an eternal flame, and strings of colorful and delicate paper cranes swaying gently in the breeze. Despite the beauty and overwhelming symbol of peace, I still felt like a hollow shell that could not be filled. I thought, what should I do? Cry? Go back to the hotel and sit alone all night, too depressed to go outside?
Then, karaoke happened. We went into the downtown shopping area and discovered a Hello Kitty themed-karaoke place. It was perfect. The gift shop (Yes, it had a gift shop) had towels, stationery, and dolls of Hello Kitty rocking the mike. Our room had a giant mural of Hello Kitties dressed as other animals - the bull was my favorite. The window in the door was shaped like a Hello Kitty head. All of the emotion I needed to let out flowed from song to song and by the end of the night I realized the purpose of the trip: I am so God damn lucky and happy to be alive.
-V
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