Hiroshima: Japan's Somber Sendoff

After Derek left, I slept another four hours and then hopped on the Shinkansen from Osaka to Hiroshima.

I arrived in time for some sunset wandering.

The history of this city was palpable. Having watched many WWII documentaries growing up in America, I was left with an eerie feeling as I walked streets no longer separated by space but merely time from such a momentous event that brought about so much suffering. Formerly incomprehensible, I slowly felt what it means for one bomb to have the power to level an entire city.

And then I stumbled upon A-Bomb Dome, potentially the most impactful sight I've encountered in five months of travel. This was a former government hall, located a mere 160 meters from the hypocenter of the bomb (not factoring in the bomb's height of 600 meters at detonation). Miraculously, much of the building survived the blast. After much debate, the Hiroshima government decided to preserve this building as a memory of the destruction of August 6, 1945.

I looked to my right and noticed a gathering of cameras and what appeared to be candles.

I struck up a conversation with the man next to me who turned out to be an award-winning documentary filmmaker. His name was Yoshi. He explained that today (January 22nd, 2026) was the five year anniversary of the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, the first legally binding international treaty to abolish nuclear warheads. Notably, Japan did not join this treaty. Yoshi then told me there were survivors of the atomic blast present at the protest. The Japanese term for such survivors is hibakusha. He asked if I wanted to meet a survivor. So I ended up briefly chatting with an 83 year old who was in Hiroshima, age 3, when the United States dropped a nuclear bomb on her city. Surreal experience.

As a random side quest, on my walk home I found this pair of earrings on the sidewalk and like a good Japanese samaritan, I dropped them off to the local law enforcement.

I had three full days in Hiroshima, which was a lovely change of pace. This was my thirteenth hotel since landing in Japan twenty days ago. On my first day I set out to find Mitaki-dera, a temple suggested to me by a fellow American, Kaya, I met at the candlelight ceremony from the night before.

I took a classically inefficient meandering route.

Over a mile from the hypocenter of the blast, there were still reminders of the city's legacy.

After three weeks in Japan I've been to countless temples and gardens. I will say, this may be my favorite. This felt like one of the most reflective and intimate spaces I've been in. There was comfort in the solitude of walking through the smattering of small ponds refreshed with running streams interspersed with buildings, bells, and statues. 

After spending quite some time walking the temple grounds I returned to the city.

They had sumo wrestling on massive billboard TVs. 

I tried some okonomiyaki, one of Hiroshima's classic local dishes. While its roots date back centuries, the dish became a household staple post-WWII due to an abundance of US-provided wheat flour and a lack of other ingredients. It is cooked hibachi style on a flat grill in front of you and eaten with a metal spatula. 

Then I ate 21 gyoza.

The next day I went to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum.

The museum was full of artifacts and stories from the day of the blast and the aftermath.

Melted roof tiles and torn shoes illustrated the sheer power and human loss from the atomic bomb.

The museum is in Hiroshima's Peace Memorial Park.

This fire will stay lit until the last nuclear warhead is disabled.

The A Bomb Dome was as haunting as ever.

I finished my day on a slightly lighter note thanks to this stellar spicy butter miso ramen.

My last full day began with a tour courtesy of Kaya, the aforementioned American from the candlelight protest. A sophomore at Oberlin, she was in Hiroshima on a J-term working for a peace NGO. Kaya kindly invited me to a tour she was giving to some of her friends from her hostel.

She pointed out this A Bomb tree - one of a hundred or so trees that survived the atomic blast. Propped up by supports, this old and mangled tree was an impressive display of resilience.

We stopped by this exhibit that shows the layers of history buried underneath Hiroshima. Today's city is built atop the ruins from the blast.

Kaya left us to our own devices, so the hostel crew and I hunted down some food before we parted ways.

I next walked over to Hiroshima's castle.

Post-castle I went to Hiroshima's Shukkeien Garden. This was yet another reminder of the city's post-war recovery.

On my walk home I watched these kids play an inning of the best little league I've ever seen. Japan takes baseball seriously.

I treated myself to some wagyu okonomiyaki for my final dinner.

Hiroshima was an emotionally moving stop like no other. Even the food in this city is tainted with post-war memory. Meeting an 83 year old atomic bomb survivor was not something I expected on this trip. The city is a testament to the horrors of war and the resilience of the human spirit. I watched Oppenheimer on my flight from Japan to Seoul. The words "May the world never know another Hiroshima" carry a new weight now.