The End of Language?

We dock at Hakodate, Japan on the 80th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. That stands as a singular horror among the many horrors humans commit on each other and Nature and continue to commit to this day. There is no apology possible and unfortunately nothing may have been learned. We still threaten each other with nuclear weapons. No treaty has stopped the building of nuclear bombs. I wonder how the Japanese people keep the memory of this tragedy so that living can continue with some normalcy. Maybe it can be equated to a typhoon or earthquake, like a natural disaster having no morality or intention. It has influenced their imaginations ever since though, revealed in movies like Godzilla and in their Manga. Threatening creatures, imagined power that cannot be controlled or resisted. People can be like a natural disaster to each other. People can also be wonderful. We saw this as we left the city. A small group of dancers appeared on the dock to say goodbye. The dancing they did was so charming and touching. It was a traditional dance, maybe 15 dancers. About 8 people played instruments to accompany them, flutes, drums and other unique percussion. Watching from the top deck of the ship the dancers appear like exotical dolls. Three warriors pantomime their strength, emphasized with elegant gestures of their fans and their golden, brightly tasselled headdresses that bow and flash in opposition. Then the little children emerge, five of them. Their elders position them precisely and they wait for the music to begin. Their tiny movements are sweetly in time as they step then extend their fans to tap the air with it lightly, creating a feeling of certainty and control. Moving to one side with a gliding motion they unfurl their fan, flourish and close it, then glide to the other side and do the same. The dance continues with variations of these movements and some new ones punctuate occasionally. So intent and serious, each tiny performer dressed in elaborate traditional clothing, a magical, miniature display. The dance becomes hypnotic as it continues to the simple rhythms of the drums and flutes repeating and repeating an ancient significance remembered by a few. After they finish, our ship pulls away with several blasts from the horn. The tiny dancers wave goodbye, with their hands crossing again and again in front of their faces, for so long it seems as if they might continue until we are out of sight. Finally we are too far away to hear the children cry out. This experience was fleeting and very moving. A dancing gesture of dignity and friendship. People are not their military, they are not their government. They have to participate in their society but they are first of all human. They want to create understanding beyond language and country.