We woke up very early on August 6. Our guest house was about a 30-minute walk from Hiroshima’s Peace Park and we wanted to be there as the gates opened to welcome attendees and participants in the 80th commemoration. You can see highlights from that event from the Reel I posted earlier today (tap the tab on my profile to see it).
The walk itself was almost as good as the event itself. The 6:00 am sun was still a gentle glow, bathing everything in golden light.
There were way more people there than I’d expected, with the sound of protestors booking across the city’s many rivers. As we got closer to the bridge that led to one of the points of entry, I tried to get closer to the protest, but the police formed an impenetrable wall. So we hurried on and two wristbands later, found ourselves under a tent among the hibakusha and their families, and other early birds like us.
The temperature started to rise, but our wait until the very prompt 8:00 am start flew by with surprising ease. There was simply so much to soak in.
There’s something so surreal about being in a place you’ve read about for so long. Everything feels bigger and smaller at the same time; bigger because there’s simply no way to put a whole city in a box or press it flat against a page. And smaller too, because every city and every event is made up of regular people—people who take selfies, people who sweat and fan themselves, people who get bored and frustrated, people who chuckle at odd times, and people who cross oceans to be there and pray. I loved every part of it that morning. I kept saying it out loud: I’m so happy to be here. We’re so lucky to be here. Because it’s true.
That’s probably why I find these photos so precious. I didn’t mind that this was the closest we could get to the stage without being dignitaries or disabled. This was the event for me: ordinary faces in an extraordinary city, taking part in a ritual of universal importance.
We would see much more of this park and feel the pulse of Hiroshima throughout the day. But looking back at these moments of sitting and waiting for the event to commence still fills me with warmth.