Though in some circles Christmas has become the holiday that dare not speak its name, I send Christmas greeting from my home where I sit beside the Christmas tree while enjoying the Christmas lights and various Christmas trimmings. No, not winter or seasonal or holiday, but Christmas. Continue reading
Advent Wreath
Today I again light a candle on the Advent wreath, a ritual I have observed since childhood. On each of the four Sundays prior to Christmas Day I pause in darkness to light a flame—one for each Sunday. Continue reading
Line up for an okonomiyaki restaurant. Photo Credit Lami Japan.
After a day at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park and Museum looking at death and devastation, distress seems to have numbed my appetite. I’m not particularly hungry at day’s end. Perhaps that’s why I pick okonomiyaki for dinner—a dish I’m not all that keen on in the first place.
Earlier, a friend introduced me to the Manju (fried soup) version and ordinarily I wouldn’t eat it twice in as many weeks. Still, I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t try the renowned Hiroshima variation containing noodles while in town. Continue reading
It doesn’t happen often, but today a trio of women my age travelling on the electric street car which runs from Hiroshima Station past Hiroshima Peace Memorial park overcome their shyness and speak to me.
Where am I from? How long have I been in Japan? Am I alone? When I say yes to this question they chorus in collective surprise. Eeeehhhh? Why have I come to Hiroshima? Continue reading
I have long felt the urge to visit this city, the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park and Museum, as well as the A-Bomb Dome which was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1996. Now that I am here I feel uncomfortable perusing the few pamphlets picked up at the information centre. Continue reading
There is no end to injustice. Though most might be hard pressed to provide their names, throughout Canadian history various champions of rights and freedoms have shifted the trajectory of the status quo. One such figure more likely to be remembered by anyone following Canadian politics from the late seventies into the first decade of the twenty-first century is Svend Robinson. Continue reading
When I pick up my ticket for the Hikari Shinkansen from Kyoto to Hiroshima the agent explains that I must change trains at Shin-Osaka. From there to Hiroshima I am in the Number 4 Silent Car. No conversation is permitted and no announcements will be made. Continue reading
Always I am a little uncertain here. Am I making myself understood? Do I understand correctly? Am I being properly polite as I fumble along? Am I going in the right direction? Am I (really) on the right train? Continue reading
Travel is often a great hurry through unfamiliar corridors, fretful fussing over directions, or anxious haste to make connections. Other times you must wait in stasis: moving about from place to place encapsulated in a vehicle or waiting your turn for flights, trains, agents and what not. Continue reading
The moment I met Masa Shiroki in his Artisan Sake Maker shop shortly after it opened on Granville Island, I was conscious of the fact that he was making history. (And I was lucky enough to be a storyteller on the sidelines.) Continue reading