six hundred fourty-four

Last weekend Patrick, Sue Ann, Lawrence, Eleanor, and I all went into Nagasaki to see the very famous O-Bon parade. A bit about O-Bon. O-Bon is a Buddhist celebration/observance in which the souls of the dead return to their shrines to be with their families. Families traditionally get together, have meals, tell stories about passed (and living) loved ones, and basically do what all families do when they get together… try and not irritate the mess out of each other.

The trip back from the afterlife is presumably a long one, therefore it’s pretty important for you to be back in your hometown for the holiday. Flowers, wine, water, tea, beer, and incense are frequently left at shrines and burial sites for the souls of the dead to take with them into the afterlife. It’s really quite beautiful. If it were me, I'd try and show a little early so I could swap my tea with someone else's beer. I'm reasonably certain you don't need to worry about your liver in the afterlife.

When a loved one has recently passed (as in there has been no O-Bon since their passing) it is a particularly important occasion because the family gathers to send the soul off into the afterlife. This is accomplished in a very practical yet beautiful way. The family either buys or constructs a boat, decorates it, adorns it with mementos and pictures from the loved one, brings it to the sea, sets the ship on fire and sails it. Often this is done with candles and paper lanterns floating about in the water also. The symbolism is thick and rich, and the experience seems to bring joy and comfort to a mourning family. The gathering reminds me of Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Halloween.

We got up bright and early to make our way into town and enjoy the festivities and see a few spots within the city. Well, almost all of us. Sue was feeling quite ill and spent the morning sleeping, while Lawrence, Eleanor, Patrick and I hit the trains. The train ride is very scenic from Sasebo to Nagasaki. Nagasaki, translated, means long peninsula. Much of the train ride travel is along the coast, and the views of the sea, and simple yet traditional farms and homes are often breathtaking.

We arrived in Nagasaki around 10am, and Nagaishi-Sensei’s (who’s canonization is coming right along I hear) map, hotel reservations, and important translations were right on point. With her map and directions, we easily found the hotel, dropped off our bags, and went sight-seeing. We first found our way to the peace park, a park dedicated to the bombing and longing for peace that it instilled in the Nagasaki people. It’s small, but intoxicatingly beautiful. The entire area is adorned with statues and dedications from the many nations who wished to pay tribute to the innocents who died from the blast, and the inherent longing for peace they hopefully share. We wandered about (it was very hot that day) and it’s very difficult to convey what it feels like to be in a place where just a few decades ago was one moment a thriving, beautiful city, and literally seconds later became a wasteland. Obviously the city has been rebuilt and is fantastic, but they purposely left the remains of destroyed buildings and it’s quite chilling. “Remains” is a bit of a strong word. It’s mostly the foundation and a couple metal spikes poking up.

The center of the park is marked with a massive statue. On each side of the statue is what looks like a small open closet. Inside is what looked like cloth or maybe paper streamers hung haphazardly alongside such beautiful works of art. This cloth or streamers or whatever were extremely bright and colorful and just didn’t seem to match the somber feeling of the area. I was wrong.

It wasn’t until after I looked above the small frame that housed these streamers and saw a golden origami crane that I realized what it meant. It’s an old legend that the person who folds 1,000 paper cranes (an act called senzaburu) so pleases the gods, that they grant the folder a wish. Sadako Sazaki, a young girl who was only 2 living outside Hiroshima when it was destroyed by Big Boy, is the focus of the significance of the origami crane. She grew up athletic and energetic, until she was 11 when she collapsed feeling insatiably dizzy. She was diagnosed with leukemia, or the atom bomb disease. Her friends and classmates rallied around her, and she told one of them in a hospital visit of the legend she heard about with the paper cranes. Despite the extreme pain associated with this task under the circumstances she began to fold the long, laborious project; her wish being to get well. Initially it appeared to be working for her, and after completing the 500th crane, she felt well enough to go home. Her recovery was short-lived, however as she became stricken with extreme dizziness and weakness and had to return to the hospital and to folding cranes. She was surrounded by her family, friends, and supporters when she finished folding her 644th crane, went to sleep, and never woke up. Her classmates finished her project with the wish for peace. Today, the paper crane remains an international symbol for peace.

Just a bit more on cranes… if you are anything like me, your next question was “why cranes?” Why not peace lotuses or something? Well, it turns out that the crane has been revered in Japanese culture for some time because they mate for life and exhibit touching loyalty. They construct their homes together and raise children as a unit. Its visage is often found woven into beautiful fabrics and wedding gowns.

We also visited the hypocenter. The bomb was detonated above ground, but the hypocenter marks the spot above land where it was dropped. It’s adorned with a marble tomb and tower. The area is also marked with the remains of a Catholic Church, built in the area. Surviving Catholics helped treat the sick and injured of the bomb blast. If you’ve ever been to the holocaust museum, you know what this kind of exhibit feels like. We encountered a very nice street vendor there, and happy to see I spoke a little Japanese, sold us some sherbet for Y100. Delicious on a hot day.

Lunch at the wharf, watching the sun dance on the ocean over beautiful food and coffee, followed by a short nap at the hotel (we picked up Sue Ann on the way) and we were ready to hit the parade. When I say short nap, I mean really short. Like, about 30 minutes into our nap, it started… I have never seen or heard so many firecrackers in my life. The streets were simply covered in them. Domo appeared highly annoyed, and spent the rest of the trip safely in my pocket. What happens is, is all the families gather and carry their respective boats down the street on the way to the ocean. There, crowds gather to watch the family carry off the spirit of their loved one. Is this is a sad occasion? Yes, I’m sure the families are feeling quite a lot while they do this… but you wouldn’t know it! The excitement, the jubilation, the fireworks, firecrackers, dancing, and the countless potential eye injuries would lead you to believe this was Mardi Gras. Except there’s no nudity, and you don’t wanna catch what the drunk guys are throwing at you in this parade (firecrackers).

It was recommended that we bring ear plugs. We didn’t, and were lamenting our stupidity until I recognized the kanji for ear in the window of a konbini followed by “sen” which by my awesome use of context clues guessed that meant earplugs. Thank God or I might be deaf. Uncomfortable, cheap earplugs, but they were totally effective. FYI, this is a VERY long parade.

After taking video and dodging several stray firecrackers, we made our way down toward the wharf, where we met several other JETs. We all hung out, talked as much as we could, and then went off to the water together. We found a beer stand by the water, that also sold ice-cream. (I love the Japanese… beer + ice-cream = heaven) There I met another woman calling herself mama and she insisted that her daughter give me not just a regular scoop, not a large scoop, but a JUMBO scoop . When it wasn’t big enough, mama took the reigns, and I had a big dang scoop of ice-cream my friends were all jealous of. Oh, and she gave me (just me) free edamame (soy beans… taste like boiled peanuts) with every beer purchase. Hey, at least this one didn’t cry.

By the water, the smell of the Pacific Ocean made me miss Seattle. I swear the Pacific smells the same no matter what side of it you’re on. The beer, the edamame, the ice cream, the new friends, the beautiful moon reflecting in the water… there was only one thing that could make this night any better. Any guesses? Wow… you’re right… it is a Japanese Elvis impersonator. He sang Elvis, and various country music songs. I took my picture with him, just need to get it from Lawrence. He was fantastic. The Japanese taught me a line dance, and I taught another ALT the basics of two-stepping.

Much like the Japanese morn their loved ones, I miss you guys, but you can't tell. :)

pictures ... videos