MANILA, Philippines - Fiction — whether in movies or books — has often portrayed Japan as a place that operates at the speed of light. Home to the Shinkansen (bullet train) and perhaps even to the most diligent people on earth, it’s easy to see how this country has been the poster boy of (really) hard work that (really) pays off. But for all that is fast and steely in this country, there is a slower, softer side. And it all reveals itself on the roads less traveled, the ones that lead south.
As the Philippine Airlines’ Airbus from Manila descended in Fukuoka, the largest city in Kyushu, the air noticeably becomes more serene. It is a perfect conclusion to the exquisite service that PAL’s Business Class flights are known for, as well as a fitting beginning to the soulful adventure that is yet to unfurl.
While modern and undeniably progressive, the island of Kyushu and its seven prefectures aren’t as bustling as, say, Tokyo or Osaka. In place of the neon lights, it offers various places of contemplation — shrines and memorial parks that pay tribute to a historic past. Here, even the deepest of wounds can be celebrated as the greatest emblems of human triumph.
Peace be with you
A couple of hours away by land from Fukuoka lies the peaceful, mountainous city of Nagasaki. Unlike other prominent places, the city initially made the pages of world history in the most unfortunate of ways: as one of the two targets in the atomic bombings during World War II (the other being the city of Hiroshima).
Today though, Nagasaki stands proud as a place that has risen from the rubbles of war. One very memorable destination is the Nagasaki Peace Park. Established in 1955, the beautifully landscaped park commemorates the atomic bombing of the city on Aug. 9, 1945.
At the northern end of the park is the 10-meter Peace Statue created by sculptor Seibou Kitamura. The gigantic structure’s right arm boldly extends to the sky, warning of the dangers of nuclear weapons. Its left arm, on the other hand, stretches to the horizon -— symbolizing Japan’s quest for eternal peace.
Unlike most portrayals of iconic Japanese men — playboy Hikaru Genji, included — the statue is burly and muscular, clearly deviant from the Japanese’s preferred concept of the slender, beautiful man. This, according to our tour guide, symbolizes unparalleled strength of body and character, the kind needed to recover from such a tragedy. Still, its face remains gentle, eyes closed in eternal prayer for the repose of the bomb victims’ souls. In front is a black marble statue with the names of the victims, as well as survivors who later succumbed to radiation.
The park is also home to the Thousand Origami Cranes, popularized by a Japanese girl Sadako Sasaki. She was exposed to radiation and developed leukemia at the age of two. The young girl spent 10 years folding paper crane origami, believing that healing shall be hers if she was able to fold a thousand cranes. She died by her 644th paper crane. Sadako’s classmates folded the rest for her.
To this day, the colorful reminder hangs proud at the Nagasaki Peace Park, and has become a symbol of hope to those who believe in miracles. Families and groups of friends partake of this hope in every visit, and they spread it with a smile to those who will accept it.
In their footsteps
As a predominantly Shinto and Buddhist country, Japan is hardly the top choice for Christian pilgrims. However, one would find in Nagasaki a statue, altar and museum dedicated to the 26 martyrs who died during the Great Persecution of Christians in the 1600s.
On Feb. 5, 1597, 26 Christians — four Spaniards, one Mexican, one Indian, three Japanese Jesuits and 17 Japanese laymen from the Third Order of St. Francis — were crucified. The martyrs included three young boys barely in their teens. It was the most stunning threat to Christianity, one that seems to have succeeded back then.
But in true, miraculous fashion, returning Christian missionaries to Japan discovered that all hopes were not lost. Two hundred fifty years after the bloodbath, an underground assembly of Christians revealed themselves. They survived the persecution and hope once again sprang eternal. To this day, Christians in this area, as well as pilgrims from many parts of the world, consider this as a shining moment of faith. The adjoining 26 Martyrs Monument validates this belief, and inspires everyone who has fought for his or her faith to keep doing so.
A life in bloom
With the history and tragedies behind these many landmarks, it is wise to end the trip on a more positive note. A return trip to Fukuoka will do just that. One perfect place to visit is the Dazaifu Tenman-gu, a Shinto shrine built over the grave of exiled nobility and fabled writer Sugawara no Michizane.
Here, one can cross the bridge of past, present and future, cleanse one’s soul, and make a wish to Michizane, the deified form of the Lord to whom this shrine is dedicated.
To this writer, the visit is a perfect encapsulation of life.
As one crosses the bridge of past, one must not stumble or look back, so as to forget the pain of yesteryears. The bridge of the present is one to be relished, for it is the best means of transportation to the life everyone dreams of. Only as you reach the bridge of present, are you allowed to look back at the journey that was — before finally setting foot to your happily ever after.
With this ritual of crossing completed, one must then rinse the mouth and hands at the watering station. Only then can one proceed to the altar in the shrine to make wishes from the heart. This writer was fortunate enough to complete this ritual on his 27th birthday, during a momentous crossroads of past and present, celebrated in the bastion of all that is mystic, spiritual and even poetic.
On the way out, I couldn’t help but notice a scripture that most tourists ogled. It was a piece of writing from the great Michizane. It says: When the east wind blows, let it send your fragrance, o plum tree. Although your master is gone, do not forget the spring.
And with that, every visitor leaves to search for the spring in his or her heart -— this writer included.
As the visit to Kyushu ended, the realizations made themselves clear. Fun isn’t always found where the neon lights glow. Contemplation doesn’t always have to be done in solace (or in sorrow). And in the southernmost island of Japan, the best way to find light is to seek it with an open heart.
(PAL flies to Fukuoka five times a week. For reservations, please call 855-8888. For more information on trips to Kyushu, visit the Japan National Tourism Organization at www.jnto.go.jp/eng.)