Private Security?

The day I first set foot in Hiroshima was one of the hottest I can recall. Stepping off the crowded ichi-ban train, my mother and I quickly made our way to the nearest vending machine we could find -- which happened to be all of four steps off the train -- to get a couple bottles of water. With water bottles in hand and sweat already pouring from our brows, we made our way into the oven-like heat of Hiroshima.

Walking down the path toward the museum (hey, it was airconditioned!), we walk by a series of small statues and memorials. I glanced at them briefly, but in the sweltering heat, I was in no mood to stop and linger.

As we crossed a bridge, still on our path to the cool air of the museum, a different structure caught my eye. The remnants of an old building, half in shambles, stood right in my path. I stop walking and read the plaque sitting in front of the building. What made me stop in that kind of heat, I'm still not sure of. Was it the wiry, skeletal structure of the half-there roof? Was it the garden of beautifully blooming flowers surrounding it? Did I think it was a mirage? Whatever the reason, I stopped and gazed at the eerie, but majestic Hiroshima A-Dome.

Once we did make it to the museum and the temperature shock wore off, I was, once again, immediately taken aback by the images, statues and plaques that danced in front of me. For those who have never visited the site of an Atomic Bomb detonation, it's impossible to describe the emotions you're overcome with. Feeble attempts have been made -- angry, depressed, hopeful. And while these emotions all ring true with my own experience, the power of what the city has been through, what they have learned and what they have become today cannot be pigeonholed into mere words.

That said, the people of Hiroshima, as with everyone I encountered in Japan, were as polite, calm and peaceful as anyone could possibly imagine. Even as a gajin, I was treated with more respect by the Japanese, many of whom were complete strangers I will never meet again (sadly), than I have by everyone else collectively in my whole life.

So, remind me again why we have foreign bases disrupting the daily lives of these respectful, peaceful allies? Even if they were savage allies, would it make a difference? Do we really need to 'keep an eye' on them?

The answer is no. While Japan is a major powerhouse in the Pacific Rim, the country has been allied with the U.S. since the end of WWII. It's been how many years since then? Since they are our allies, doesn't that imply that we trust them? To steal a phrase from my kindergarten teacher, 'Can't we all just get along?'

Again, the answer is no. The U.S. feels some sort of God-given right to do whatever the hell it feels like, oftentimes despite horrendous consequences for others. Well, apparently I missed that chapter in the Bible, because some mythical claim to selfish imperialism is not justifiable.

You couldn't blame the Japanese for being angry. We punished their descendants during WWII, we dropped bombs that devastated two of their major cities and we still occupy a large portion of their already small land mass for our own peace of mind.

But do the Japanese rise up in their wrath? Do they revolt? No. And if that's not proof to the ignorant gajin that Japan is not a threat, is not a country that needs to be watched, is not a country that needs foreign bases, but rather is a country full of trustworthy, peaceful people and (I can't believe I'm saying this) politicians, then i don't know if there's anything that will prove it to them.