Like every Wednesday evening, the song of the Tofu truck streams in through the open windows of the World Friendship Center. On the other side of the river, out in the gardens of the Hiroshima Peace Park, a Hibakusha tends to his rose garden. And down the Peace Park, a solemn group of tourists quietly follow a tour guide.
In this piece of notes, I would like to highlight that throughout my two months in Hiroshima, I will never forget the people I met and the warmth of their hearts.
I came to the city for a two-month internship at the NPO World Friendship Center this summer. When I first entered the Center, the only thing I knew for sure was that I was just a young undergraduate student brimming with a desire to help bring peace to the world in some form. But as the days passed, and over one breakfast table at the guesthouse in Funairi-machi, I had the chance to get to know people from around the world: the Czech Republic, Russia, Canada, Finland, Vietnam, England, Barcelona, France …
I have to admit that I may have slept through breakfast at times and thus missed these moments to get to know these people from different countries. But I had slept through because I think in some ways I had underestimated the power of these alignments, which came in the form of guests all simply sitting next to each other at breakfast. I realize now that this instance was unique. On the days I woke up in time, I witnessed how over one dining table, over a couple of seconds, people could create friendships, bridges of understanding. How easy it was to bring people together. How easy it was to be kind.
I used to think that peace was this big term, this harmonic quietness in which everyone had to get along with everyone else. Eventually, I understood this was also peace: two people talking together, the way one tends to a rose garden, the way one treats every day with a heart of appreciation. Perhaps peace was cherishing these small everyday moments. Perhaps, to those people and communities who suffered on one fateful morning, this is what we owe. To live our every day to the fullest –– with light and joy.
In this little place in Funairi-machi, I realized how one person’s visionary prayer for peace led to this blossoming meeting point: under this guesthouse, wandering people enter and depart with transformed selves. Perhaps peace begins as a flicker within each one of our hearts and, in turn, kindles the flames of peace in the people we meet.
I believe that this summer has changed the way I see the people in this world. Behind every mask is a little fire of compassion. Enveloping every person are their ancestors, their traditions, their cultures. And these footsteps, I think, will surely guide us to a more caring and brighter world.
Photos from the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park:
