This coming week is going to be fun. Monday is a two-chapter Kanji test. Monday and Tuesday evenings are Koto, while Wednesday is sign language. Thursday I want to go see an all-night matsuri that is supposed to be one of the most authentic in Japan, but Friday morning I have parts of midterms for both Japanese classes. Whoop-de-f---ing-doo.
Today I went to Hiroshima, waking up at six just to make it to the meeting place on time. And I have a new opinion of Shinkansens now: just because they can go super fast, doesn't mean that they will. The ones I rode couldn't have been doing over 100mph. But they are really convenient; if I hadn't gotten off at Shin-Osaka coming back, I could have ridden all the way to Tokyo on the same line.
I hope this doesn't spoil anything for anyone, but Japanese cities could hardly be said to be beautiful. They look grey, cold, and dirty most of the time, and the only actual nice places to be are either historic sites or temples/shrines. Even downtown Kyoto truly looks like this. That said, Hiroshima Peace Park is probably the prettiest place I have seen thus far, even better than Kiyomizu-dera. It feels like being in the middle of the Audubon Zoo, the trees are tall and twisty, and the ground alternates between dirt and grass in a nice way. The things on the ground were a let-down, though. Everything was ridiculously spaced apart, it made all the memorials seem diminished in importance.
You might have seen the before/after areal pictures of when there were buildings and then there were none. Those images do not do it justice. This year was the 60th anniversary of the foundation of the Peace Park as well as the submission of a photo collection by a famous Japanese photographer from Hiroshima who documented the aftermath and the city's reconstruction. So his special collection was on display, with one enlarged, side-by-side panning of the epicenter. I was so horrified I couldn't move. I looked like something out of the dust bowl, dirt and rubble were everywhere but it was all laid out completely flat. It was as if a giant hand had just brushed over the surface of the ground and everything was just swept away. I also saw a shadow. They're starting to fade, but you can still easily make them out.
I also got to visit Hiroshima castle. The real one was destroyed in the blast, but it was reconstructed only three years later (some priorities...). On the third floor there was a weapons and armor exhibit, showing what had been saved in the castle's collection. And among them was a treasure beyond treasures: a Muramasa. It was only a tanto, and it was just the blade without the handle, but that thing must be worth more than the castle itself. That's probably why the guard was there, to stop anyone from stealing it (but who watches the watch?). It's a shame they don't allow photography in Japanese historic sites. It's like the board of tourism is afraid they'll lose money because people will just look at pictures instead. That may be true, but how else can you advertise and get new visitors?
If you ever come to Japan, you should try Mos Burger. It's like their version of a McDonald, because it's the symbol of a Japanese hamburger. The strange thing was, the ground beef is mixed with basil. It was really neat. After that I tried some hot cakes (that's what they call them here, so I will go with it, but I absolutely refuse to call them anything other than pancakes back home). And, like every kind of bread that's supposed to be its own meal, it was sweet. Even without the syrup. Bleagh (hah, try correcting that word, spell check!)

Observations:
The Kansai region is actually pretty flat I bet a long time ago it was just like a still version of those needle toys that lets you make impressions in it. Then the gods probably smacked it a few times and there you go: instant giant, strange, maze-like arranged mountains. It's like living in a maze where the path between hedges is wide, and the exit is adrift in space. They're everywhere, but only where the ground isn't already flat. It looks very primal.