The 3-hour bullet train ride took us through Nagoya, Kyoto, Osaka, Kobe, and Okayama, to our destination. And from the central station, we began with the heavy stuff. The A-Bomb Dome, formerly the Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, preserved as one of the only structures in central Hiroshima that was not completely leveled by the bomb.
The U.S. Military’s target was a T-shaped bridge in downtown Hiroshima, and at 8:15 a.m. on August 6, 1945, the atomic bomb detonated just 240m south of that landmark, and 580m above the city. The T-shaped bridge (on the left in the photo above) led onto a large island in the city center once packed with office buildings, shops, homes, a hospital, schools. The northern portion of this island is now Peace Memorial Park, a mix of museums, monuments, and welcoming green space. 
The Peace Memorial Museum displayed before-and-after photos of the city and of people’s injuries, as well as many artifacts attesting to the incomprehensible strength and heat of the blast: burned school uniforms, charred lunchboxes, and singed hair from junior high and high school students who had been mobilized to help tear down houses to create firebreaks in various parts of the city—from nearer the epicenter: melted glass, glass shards lodged in a cement wall, a bent iron gate, and a crinkled iron and cement bridge support. Other displays included U.S. Military memos and video footage from the plane that flew alongside the Enola Gay, scientific explanations of how atomic bombs are created, charts noting the countries currently possessing or developing nuclear weapons, and denouncements to those countries from Hiroshima’s mayor. Out in the atrium, a clock displays the number of days since the Hiroshima bombing and since the last nuclear explosion on Earth.
The Peace Memorial Hall offered drawings and vivid personal narratives from children who survived the bomb—many having seen siblings and friends suffer and die, or having family members missing altogether. The fountain outside centerpieces 8:15, when watches stopped.
Beneath the arch is a vault containing the official register of the dead.
In another part of the park stands the Children’s Peace Memorial, not only for the children killed by the blast, but also for those who suffered long-term effects from the radiation—many developing leukemia and passing years later.
Millions of paper cranes are delivered to this monument each year as symbols of peace. This tradition began with a Japanese girl, Sadako Sasaki, who was exposed to the bomb's radiation at two years old, then diagnosed with leukemia at age 11. She set a goal for herself of folding 1,000 cranes, folding into each one her wish to get better. Sadako met her goal, but nevertheless passed away in 1955; her idea of folding cranes for hope and peace has since spread worldwide. 
And at the southern border of the park, a row of arches repeats “peace” in 49 languages.
Our afternoon was far lighter—a walk to Hiroshima Castle (known as “Carp Castle”), then a streetcar to our hostel, then a walk to Mazda Zoom-Zoom Stadium, where we hoped to see the night game between the Hiroshima Carp and Yakult Swallows.
After waiting in line to find the game was sold out, we sat of the grass outside the stadium and pitied ourselves for a bit before going to get Indian food and walk around the shopping arcades and monuments at night. 
The next day, a visit to the gorgeous island of Miyajima...
Since returning, the only visible damage I've encountered is the collapsed castle wall at Sumpu Park in downtown Shizuoka. And that in our apartment, three pieces of china are no longer with us.
Some of the teachers at my schools complained of having to spend summer vacation fixing damage to their homes, but overall, only around 100 people were injured in the event; only one person was killed. I hear a lot about readyness training. I hear Japan's structures are built for seismic activity. I hope the predictions for a far more serious quake are overblown (though I doubt it; very scary stuff).
The rest of Sumpu apparently survived unharmed: the castle and the teahouse surrounded by a manicured garden...
...which even includes tea bushes and a mini Mt. Fuji.
II.
III.
I had said my goodbyes to Shizuoka: my favorite sights, restaurants, pals. Had been leaning toward not coming back. So this is just to say, summer vacation was fantastic, but I am back in Japan until December. Time is flying.
After sunset, naturally, temps slowly lowered to tolerable, and Shizuoka’s rooftop bars especially bustled with business. July was also prime summer festival time, and before I left for vacation, I was able to take in a few seasonal traditions, including a lantern float, a temple festival, and a fireworks display.
At the Tomoe River in Shimizu, participants bought floating lanterns, personalized them with wishes and drawings, and sent them downstream through the city.
Right behind my apartment is Kiyomizusan Park, which includes the small Kiyomizu Temple, and on an early July evening, vendors lined the streets leading up to the park, and people packed the area to visit the temple, eat food on a stick, and view the sporadic fireworks being launched over the nearby playground.
Many men and women wear traditional yukata (summer-weight kimono) to festivals...
Droves boarded busses in downtown Shizuoka, headed for the Nihondaira fireworks, despite cloudy weather. The Nihondaira is a huge, forested hill between Shizuoka and Shimizu, and the fireworks were to be set off over a grassy clearing near the top of the hill. As our hour-long bus ride took us up the winding, switchbacked road, we realized a thick cloud had stationed itself atop the Nihondaira. Davin, Joyce, Tatyana, and I were left off and proceeded to claim a spot on the crowded field, covered in fog. 
As showtime neared, people who had arrived early to claim prime blanket space began to pack up. A few test shots were fired, and the darkened sky lit up in solid color, as if we were watching a giant movie screen that briefly flashed plain green, then red.
Nevertheless, an announcement was made that the show would go on, and the entirety of the display proceeded just as the test—a solid wall of color flashing before us—no individual sparks or distinguishable fireworks to be seen, until the end when they lit off a few ground displays (including a Mt. Fuji). Everyone who stayed was laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Definitely a most memorable fireworks experience.
