Finding Romance After the Calamity

A world-ending cataclysm is common to many mythologies. The Biblical flood narrative is the best known and follows a fairly typical pattern: wrathful deity, mass destruction, surviving remnant in this case the righteous man Noah and his family. Most of us gather from these tales that life to early humans felt dreadfully precarious more so, even, than it may feel to us. Japan’s mythological account of the world on the brink of annihilation is in a class by itself. Most of the younger people today probably have never even heard of that tragic event in history or what may have happened to the survivors.

Sometimes when you put your trust in God Almighty to lead you to your “soulmate”, the person that God has created just for you and you alone. She or he could be found in one of the unluckiest places in the world or maybe under the most unlikely circumstances.

I was led to my one true love a few decades after the bombing of a small Japanese city called Hiroshima. An inhumane bomb dropped at 8:15 am on a clear August morning. It was later recorded that up to 6,500 children were estimated to have been instantly orphaned. They were forced to make it on their own in a city of ruins, struggling against hunger and loneliness. Not much is known about the lives of these children. 

Twenty-five years later while I was interviewing a beautiful but shy young lady, she told me at the time she was 7 years old on that unfaithful day. The first thing she remembered was a blinding flash that was followed by a wave of destruction almost beyond any human beings imagination. Her name was Akiko. She still couldn’t tell me how she survived and why. An estimated 80,000 (70% of the population) people were killed instantly, including her entire family by the intense heat of the explosion. 13 square miles of real estate of a city that had once been a bustling commercial, military and transportation hub was reduced to rubble in a matter of seconds. Immense firestorms swept through the many wood and paper homes.

As I’m interviewing her I noticed that the right side of her lovely face was badly burned. At that exact moment I knew that I had truly found my soulmate. Its funny sometimes why you do certain things in life that you truly don’t know why you’re doing them. For some strange reason I chose to steady Japanese as a second language. Not really knowing if I’d ever be able to use it unless I wanted to visit any Chinatowns in America.

When my bossed asked me to go to Japan to see if I could find any survivor’s from the bombing of Hiroshima. I just scratched my head and packed my bags.

I really didn’t know what to expect when I got there. The first thing I saw when I got closer to the city was a sleek shinkansen train that slid into Hiroshima station, I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t expecting to see the modernization of the city. In my mind eyes, grey images of flattened buildings and emaciated children reappeared, alongside textbook photos of billowing mushroom clouds. 

Twenty-five years have passed since the Enola Gay dropped its bombshell in 1945: 80,000 dead in a single day, 120,000 to follow through injury and disease. I found myself repeating these facts because I never wanted to forget what happened. Yet for all the studies and reports, I was still unprepared for what I saw today.

A sunny, lively, normal city. Trams bustled along the streets and giggling schoolchildren in navy uniforms followed me around, falling quiet before summoning the courage to practice their English. While I was standing there in awe of this beautiful city someone walked up to me and said, “Excuse me, mister. Where you from? Hajimete no Nihon hōmondesu ka (Is this your first Japan visit)? I replied, Hai, kore wa anata no utsukushī machi o otozureru no wa hajimetedesu.

(Yes this is my very first time visiting your beautiful city). Shop fronts were clean, commuters strode along the pavements and Hello Kitty charms swayed from mobile phones. Decades have passed after all and to the locals “Hiroshima” means “home”, rather than “history lesson.”

Then I see a huge billboard of a black and white photograph that displayed the only building left standing after the blast.

My boss had given me a location where I could begin my search for survivor’s. In my mind I kept thinking about transportation being that of a bicycle or rickshaw. I got a cab faster than you could flag down one in New York City. I asked the cabbie to drop me off at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. That’s where I first met Akiko in which her first name means autumn’s child. I was taken aback somewhat when she ran up to me and embraced me as if we’d met before. She then whispered in my ear Kanojo o mitsukeru no ni totemo jikan ga kakatta riyū (what took me so long to find her).

Akiko was working as a tour guide for the Museum. We agreed to meet after the initial interview when she got off of work. I could hardly wait for her to meet me in my hotel room. There was so much I wanted to learn about her and why she asked me what took me so long.

That day I discovered that there is a whole lot of truth in love at first sight.

Around 7pm I heard a soft tap on my suite door. I had arranged for the two of us a four course dinner delivered to my room for this joyous and once in a lifetime occasion.

For some reason I got to thinking my “soulmate” would be dressed up like a Geisha girl. When I opened the door to see her wearing a Akris Punto Mesh Side Slit Midi Dress along with a pair of Nicholas Kirkwood Beya Leather Loafers I was blown away.