Pearl Harbour

If I had to choose one word to describe my experience at Pearl Harbour, it would be disappointment. After having my mullet blown away by the memorial park in Hiroshima, I had expected no less from the United States. Although the Japanese are well known for their innovative architecture and lavish gardens, the Americans are known for going big or going home. And at first I did get this impression. But after the initial shock of being knee deep in a historical naval base wears off, you're left with no more than some big guns and even bigger egos. In comparison with Hiroshima, I found the Japanese approach much more well rounded and sympathetic, while the Americans chose to, "Hit Em' Where it Hurts." It was difficult for me to walk through the museums, their walls plastered with success stories, nationalist paraphernalia, and heavy weaponry. As well stocked as these museums were, they did fall short. A sort of cold detachment emanated throughout their halls and the memory of the lost soldiers seemed absent. I was reassured though when a twenty minute ferry ride brought us to the USS Arizona Memorial, a place solely built for recognizing the deceased soldiers. Just as heartbreak finally found me, a well of pride and acknowledgement began to take shape on the faces around me. And soon enough, the small confines of the memorial could no longer contain the gratification that poured from the souls of 50 strangers.

Sometimes it's difficult to take life with a grain of salt, but through these difficulties we are able to release the negative ties that have been harnessed around our waists and instead walk towards a brighter future. Although I feel the resentment of the past deep within the walls of Pearl Harbour, I also believe in the confidence of change, and know of the vast possibilities that lie there.