I had to get up at 5:30 on Tuesday morning. I would have been annoyed at this had I not done so for the sake of the Nagasaki Kunchi Matsuri (festival). Japan must be the only country in the world where festivals start at 7am. The hospital paid for tickets for Kimurasan, May and me, which I am told aren't too cheap either, so I really can't complain. The “show” was absolutely fantastic, but there is way too much for me to say about it now. For a full post on this, you will have to wait until after the weekend when I have had more time to write - sorry.
After the festivities of the morning and an excellent lunch out of Okonomiyaki, May and I had to return to work. That afternoon I moved from the 6th floor nurses station to go kai higashi (5th floor East wing). Like the last time I moved two weeks ago, I couldn't help but feel apprehensive about the unknown. Unlike last time however – when I was greeted with much the same stuff on 6E as was on 7E, since both appeared to be general wards – this time I was pleasantly surprised to discover that 5E is solely a maternity and gynaecology ward. I know I'm going to sound like such a girl when I say this, but it makes a huge difference having babies around at work! Everything is suddenly way more interesting. There is a group of student nurses on 5E at the moment, and sometimes when they are being shown how to do new things I am allowed to observe also. On Wednesday I observed how to bathe a newborn baby. I found it most funny that instead of, as in England, dressing her in a one-piece baby-grow, the nurse put her in a little yakuta (summer kimono/ dressing robe). Aww! And then... I got to hold her! Kawai ne... yoroshiku. Sorry, I really can't help it. She was so cute! Just a teeny, tiny little human being.
It makes a nice change from the upper floors, where some of the patients, to be quite frank, look as though they have just escaped from a labour camp. I'm talking about people who have lung cancer and and fractured humerus, or are missing a leg and have a bag attached to their abdomen that is steadily filling with blood. Pretty depressing stuff, although admittedly very interesting from a wannabe doctor's perspective. Oh, and also, Marikosan (the woman who lives in room 207) works on 5E so it is nice having a friend around at work too. The downside to all of this of course, is that I am only on the 5th floor for two weeks. After that I will move down to 4E, which I believe is an orthopaedic and physiotherapy ward. Interesting, yes. Full of babies, no.
Thursday, 11 October 2007
Tuesday, 9 October 2007
いなさ山 – Mount Inasa
I had been told many a time that Nagasaki looks stunning from the top of Inasa-yama (Mt. Inasa), particularly at night. Since the 'Ropeway' cable car to the top costs ¥1200, May and I decided to skip the day-time viewing and wait until nightfall to go up: It was worth the wait and the ¥1200. The view was as spectacular as I had been told it would be. Of course, I took plenty of photographs but even my expensive camera couldn't do it justice, so I bought a postcard with a much better quality picture on it for ¥150. Again, money well-spent, me thinks. Here`s what the postcard looks like:
Peace Begins in Nagasaki
On Saturday I did my first real bit of sightseeing in Nagasaki. For me, the only place to start was the Hypocentre Park. As it's name suggests, it marks the point above which the atomic bomb exploded at 11:02 am on August 9th 1945. In a word, it was... haunting. I am very glad that I have now seen it, but it was quite an emotional experience and one I don't want to repeat any time soon.
Here it is, the hypocentre. The 4.5 ton 'Fat Man' plutonium bomb exploded 500m above this column.
There are thousands upon thousands of these origami cranes – the symbol of peace - dotted around the park in displays such as these.
This is the Atomic Bombing 50th Anniversary Commemorative Projects Monument and it sits about 20m from the hypocentre. A section of the explanatory plaque reads, “...the child is like Japan on the day of the atomic bombing, while the mother represents the support provided by the countries of the world in Japan's efforts to build the peaceful nation it has become today”.
The Urakami cathedral suffered a near-direct hit by the blast, but still a small portion of its walls remained standing. This was moved to right next to the hypocentre, and included these gnarled dragons at its base.
From the Hypocentre Park I moved onto the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum. It was a relief to discover that photography was not allowed inside the museum; In some ways I don't want to remember what I saw, and even if I did, photographs would never do some of the artefacts and exhibits justice. The 'before' and 'after' aerial photographs of Nagasaki were just shocking. I recognised the landmarks I was seeing in them! This was the city I am currently living in! It felt horribly real. This was made worse when I learned that within 1.2km of the hypocentre the death rate for anyone out in the open was 100%. My apartment, the hospital I work at, the track I run at, all lie well within that radius. Yeah, that was a pretty scary realisation. I don't want to try and summarise the museum here because you really do have to see it to grasp just how devastating the bomb blast was. I will mention though, that the exhibits where separated out into categories including the build up to the attack, the bomb itself (including the science of atomic bombs), the immediate after-effects on the city and it's residence, the relief efforts, the injuries sustained by people and the long-term human cost, and also the state of the world today in terms of nuclear weapons. It really was a fantastic museum.
By now feeling understandably depressed, I headed over to the Peace Park in the hope of finishing the day's sightseeing on a positive note. There I saw the famous Peace Statue:
There was also a collection of other, smaller statues that had been donated from other countries around the world, and the Peace Fountain.
It was all very beautiful. And heart-warming. It certainly proved to be the right order to see these three sights in. I walked home feeling, surprisingly, hopeful and optimistic.
*
As a Westerner, I have to admit that I felt some guilt as I walked around these sights. We study all the awful things that Hitler and Stalin did, call them barbarians, but honestly, what we did was just as bad. The atomic attacks on Japan have been justified by the West, calling them 'a quick end to the war', a 'way of saving our soldiers' lives', but at what cost? The vast majority of the victims in Nagasaki were women, children and the elderly. How were their deaths any less important than those of our soldiers?
If nothing else, I learned on Saturday that we have an incredibly distorted understanding of modern world history in Britain. I wonder if and when that will ever change.
Here it is, the hypocentre. The 4.5 ton 'Fat Man' plutonium bomb exploded 500m above this column.
There are thousands upon thousands of these origami cranes – the symbol of peace - dotted around the park in displays such as these.
This is the Atomic Bombing 50th Anniversary Commemorative Projects Monument and it sits about 20m from the hypocentre. A section of the explanatory plaque reads, “...the child is like Japan on the day of the atomic bombing, while the mother represents the support provided by the countries of the world in Japan's efforts to build the peaceful nation it has become today”.
The Urakami cathedral suffered a near-direct hit by the blast, but still a small portion of its walls remained standing. This was moved to right next to the hypocentre, and included these gnarled dragons at its base.
From the Hypocentre Park I moved onto the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum. It was a relief to discover that photography was not allowed inside the museum; In some ways I don't want to remember what I saw, and even if I did, photographs would never do some of the artefacts and exhibits justice. The 'before' and 'after' aerial photographs of Nagasaki were just shocking. I recognised the landmarks I was seeing in them! This was the city I am currently living in! It felt horribly real. This was made worse when I learned that within 1.2km of the hypocentre the death rate for anyone out in the open was 100%. My apartment, the hospital I work at, the track I run at, all lie well within that radius. Yeah, that was a pretty scary realisation. I don't want to try and summarise the museum here because you really do have to see it to grasp just how devastating the bomb blast was. I will mention though, that the exhibits where separated out into categories including the build up to the attack, the bomb itself (including the science of atomic bombs), the immediate after-effects on the city and it's residence, the relief efforts, the injuries sustained by people and the long-term human cost, and also the state of the world today in terms of nuclear weapons. It really was a fantastic museum.
By now feeling understandably depressed, I headed over to the Peace Park in the hope of finishing the day's sightseeing on a positive note. There I saw the famous Peace Statue:
There was also a collection of other, smaller statues that had been donated from other countries around the world, and the Peace Fountain.
It was all very beautiful. And heart-warming. It certainly proved to be the right order to see these three sights in. I walked home feeling, surprisingly, hopeful and optimistic.
*
As a Westerner, I have to admit that I felt some guilt as I walked around these sights. We study all the awful things that Hitler and Stalin did, call them barbarians, but honestly, what we did was just as bad. The atomic attacks on Japan have been justified by the West, calling them 'a quick end to the war', a 'way of saving our soldiers' lives', but at what cost? The vast majority of the victims in Nagasaki were women, children and the elderly. How were their deaths any less important than those of our soldiers?
If nothing else, I learned on Saturday that we have an incredibly distorted understanding of modern world history in Britain. I wonder if and when that will ever change.
へび - Snake
Last week I was walking up to the front door of my apartment building after a long day at work when I encountered this little guy. My first instinct when I saw him was not – like normal people – to run away and get a big strong man to get rid of it before I could climb the steps. Oh no, my first thought was, 'I want to pick him up'. I then thought that he might be poisonous so decided against it. I was really tempted for a minute though. He looked so silky. I don't know what species he is, if he's commonly found in Asia, or if he's only found in Japan, or what. He sure is cute though, and shy too; He slithered off up the steps and into the nearest bush as soon as I moved closer to him with my camera. Aw, bless.
Wednesday, 3 October 2007
1⽉ きねんび - One Month Anniversary
Today is one month since I came to Japan. Wow. That's actually a little scary to think about. It doesn't feel like it has been more than a week. Time really is flying by, faster than I think it ever has in my life. Perhaps things will slow down a bit now that everything here is starting to feel familiar. Who knows, maybe it will be the complete opposite. There's only five months of my trip left. Eek, I had better start doing some sightseeing. Watch this space everyone...
Monday, 1 October 2007
おちゃ どうぞ – Tea, Please!
My work timetable has been arranged so that every fortnight the nursing station I am working on changes. For my first two weeks I was in the 7th floor East wing. Last week I moved to 6E. I was a little apprehensive about the move – new staff, new patients, new expectations – but I was actually pleasantly surprised at how smoothly it went (despite being put on the spot on my first day when I was asked to introduce myself (in Japanese) at the staff meeting they have every morning). I now prefer 6E to 7E. The staff in 7E knew it was my first fortnight on the job, so went kind of easy on me, but I have noticed a gradual increase in responsibility over the past three weeks. Just think where I will be in six months!
My new supervisor on 6E is Yamaguchi-san (Mrs Yamaguchi) and I love her. She's in her mid-fifties and makes up for her small stature (she's about 4'9”) with a really jolly personality. Also, her English is a little better than my Japanese, but not by much, so we're constantly teaching each other new words and phrases in our respective languages. Yes, I think she is the one person I have learned the most Japanese from. She knows I want to improve my Japanese so she lets me shout “Ocha douzo” (lit. “Tea, Please”) into the patients' rooms when we give them their 11am cup of green tea. She and some of the other nurses have started calling me Lily-chan ('Riri-chan'), which is a slightly subordinate but affectionate name. To put it into perspective, children get called '-chan'. Mind you, I am kind of the 'child' on the hospital staff – I am the only one yet to reach 20 years of age, which is an important marker in Japanese culture. So yeah, calling me '-chan' isn't much of a surprise really.
My new supervisor on 6E is Yamaguchi-san (Mrs Yamaguchi) and I love her. She's in her mid-fifties and makes up for her small stature (she's about 4'9”) with a really jolly personality. Also, her English is a little better than my Japanese, but not by much, so we're constantly teaching each other new words and phrases in our respective languages. Yes, I think she is the one person I have learned the most Japanese from. She knows I want to improve my Japanese so she lets me shout “Ocha douzo” (lit. “Tea, Please”) into the patients' rooms when we give them their 11am cup of green tea. She and some of the other nurses have started calling me Lily-chan ('Riri-chan'), which is a slightly subordinate but affectionate name. To put it into perspective, children get called '-chan'. Mind you, I am kind of the 'child' on the hospital staff – I am the only one yet to reach 20 years of age, which is an important marker in Japanese culture. So yeah, calling me '-chan' isn't much of a surprise really.
ばんごはん – Dinner
It turned out that I had nothing to worry about with our dinner invite on Friday. It was as far from the whole-hospital-invited party that I feared it might be as you could get.... only five of us: the hospital vice-president, a nurse from the ENT department, Kimurasan, May and me. I am embarrassed to admit that I have forgotten the names of both the vice-president and the nurse. Shame on me, I know!
That's the vice-president sat on the left of the photo, Kimurasan in the middle, and the ENT nurse on the right.
From the hospital May and I were taken by street car to the Best Western Premier Nagasaki Hotel, which, as you might imagine with a name like that, has a five-star rating. The restaurant (called 'The Kitchen') was on the 15th and top floor. The view was amazing. Just amazing. I had heard that Nagasaki has one of the best night views in Japan and now I can believe that unquestioningly. I took pictures but they really didn't capture it, so I won't bother posting them here.
The meal itself was great. It turned out to be an authentic Japanese buffet. The Japanese word for buffet is, believe it or not, Viking (pronounced Biking). You can see how May and I got so confused when beforehand we were told it was a 'Biking' restaurant we would be going to. Anyway, the food was sensational. My favourite thing by far was the sashimi (thin slices of raw fish, in this case in a light marinade). The salmon sashimi was particularly good. Mm, sashimi.
To top off the wonderful food, we had some really great conversation with our hosts. It was during a dessert of ice cream, tiramisu and sesame seed cake that it happened. We were talking about what May and I wanted to do in the future, as in what careers we wanted to pursue, when the vice-president turned to me and the following words came from his mouth: You know, you can watch a surgery if you want to...
...My jaw dropped....
...I seriously could not believe it for a second. I had to ask him twice if I had heard him correctly. Me? Watch a surgery?! 'Yes, yes, yes, I would love to!' I was so shocked that I forgot to ask for details: When? What procedure? Which surgeon? From the gallery or - *gasps* - inside the operating theatre? Oh man, I'm getting so excited just thinking about it. I feel like Meredith Grey. No, actually, probably more like George O'Malley. (Sorry, for the non 'Grey's Anatomy' fans, I feel like a surgical intern, that's all you need to know).... Awe.Some.
We wound things up around 8:45 and May and I got a taxi home with the nurse. We didn't spend a single Yen all evening – the vice-president paid for everything. Of course we were incredibly grateful for this and showed our appreciation in the traditional Japanese way, by saying gochisou sama deshita (“that was a lovely meal”). We have been invited to another dinner in a few weeks; I am not nervous at all about this next one now :-)
That's the vice-president sat on the left of the photo, Kimurasan in the middle, and the ENT nurse on the right.
From the hospital May and I were taken by street car to the Best Western Premier Nagasaki Hotel, which, as you might imagine with a name like that, has a five-star rating. The restaurant (called 'The Kitchen') was on the 15th and top floor. The view was amazing. Just amazing. I had heard that Nagasaki has one of the best night views in Japan and now I can believe that unquestioningly. I took pictures but they really didn't capture it, so I won't bother posting them here.
The meal itself was great. It turned out to be an authentic Japanese buffet. The Japanese word for buffet is, believe it or not, Viking (pronounced Biking). You can see how May and I got so confused when beforehand we were told it was a 'Biking' restaurant we would be going to. Anyway, the food was sensational. My favourite thing by far was the sashimi (thin slices of raw fish, in this case in a light marinade). The salmon sashimi was particularly good. Mm, sashimi.
To top off the wonderful food, we had some really great conversation with our hosts. It was during a dessert of ice cream, tiramisu and sesame seed cake that it happened. We were talking about what May and I wanted to do in the future, as in what careers we wanted to pursue, when the vice-president turned to me and the following words came from his mouth: You know, you can watch a surgery if you want to...
...My jaw dropped....
...I seriously could not believe it for a second. I had to ask him twice if I had heard him correctly. Me? Watch a surgery?! 'Yes, yes, yes, I would love to!' I was so shocked that I forgot to ask for details: When? What procedure? Which surgeon? From the gallery or - *gasps* - inside the operating theatre? Oh man, I'm getting so excited just thinking about it. I feel like Meredith Grey. No, actually, probably more like George O'Malley. (Sorry, for the non 'Grey's Anatomy' fans, I feel like a surgical intern, that's all you need to know).... Awe.Some.
We wound things up around 8:45 and May and I got a taxi home with the nurse. We didn't spend a single Yen all evening – the vice-president paid for everything. Of course we were incredibly grateful for this and showed our appreciation in the traditional Japanese way, by saying gochisou sama deshita (“that was a lovely meal”). We have been invited to another dinner in a few weeks; I am not nervous at all about this next one now :-)
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