Trading the Past for Money

Just a small reminder to what one group can do to another.

Humanity loves to turn tragedy into a new tourist attraction. Rarely do we maintain a monument to what we have lost. I can hear the cheers of gleeful investors the moments after thousands die. "This will bring us millions," they cant while blood is still spilling. In Mary Jo Salter's "Welcome to Hiroshima," the hallowed land where thousands died, lays beautifully desecrated.

"Welcome to Hiroshima...brought to you in living English by Toshiba Electric" (Lines 1-4), are the opening lines to the multitudes of tourists who visit annually. These lines are speaking to a specific tourist, though; those who one to two generations prior, caused the catastrophe that made this town infamous. Vivid remembrances, of the devastation, such as "plastic dioramas advertise mutations" (Line 15-16), litter this poem. Yet, they find themselves accentuated with enjoyments for the visiting tourist, "a pancake sandwich  a pizza someone tops with a marrachino cherry" (Line 17-18), "they pour your cup of tea in one of the countless sunny coffee shops" (Line 13-14). The town has transformed into a stop for someone to say "I've been there. The museums are wonderful, and the restaurants are lovely."

Does this honor the dead? Does it remind us of the destruction one group brought upon another? These sorts of locations are designed to keep consciences clear. "They can see what happened in a museum," is what those who benefit will say, yet will any one emotionally connect to the lives lost while Starbucks is warming their heart? The dead find themselves second to the monetary benefits of a tourist trap. This is not to say that nothing should be done with such places. Memorials are wonderful if designed to actually memorialize. It keeps what we have lost in our hearts and minds, while begging us to reconsider such actions in the future. These places, these hallowed grounds, must be kept sacred, because it is all we have left to remember of what we are truly capable. Let the spirits speak while we gather to mourn them. Let them tell us of lives not lived. Let them speak of their pain.

This is always going to remain an issue. As an American, I find myself with little desire to visit a tourist trap Hiroshima, why should I care? I can get my Starbucks down the street. I see the way we have chosen to memorialize 9/11. We build on and then charge families of the deceased to pay their respects. Another tourist trap to make a little bit more money. I visited New York a few years after 2001. Ground Zero was nothing but a hole in the ground. New York is an incredibly loud city, yet standing next to that hole, all was silent; all but a lone flautist playing somber songs of patriotism. I felt the dead speaking then, I doubt they are anything by silent now.

Works Cited:

Salter, Mary Jo. "Welcome to Hiroshima."