By Bonson Lam
It is pitch black. My eyes are trying to adjust, fumbling in total darkness. Suddenly a flash of light, and then another one, and one more. A drum like sound pierces my lungs. As I got closer it becomes louder and louder, so much that I stop, paralysed with fear. What could be on the other side?
This is the sound of a heartbeat, amplified. Here thousands of heartbeats have been recorded. It is like you have been shrunk inside an artery or womb and there is nothing between you and the heartbeat, except darkness, utter darkness. Somehow the darkness makes it even more sensational, as if all your five senses are totally at the mercy of these beats.
They are all different; young and old, male and female. It is like every human act, good or evil, has been de-constructed into a heartbeat. Everyone is reduced to the same level, whether you are a chief executive or the youngest kid at the kindergarten. Here in one of the most peaceful beaches on earth is something so primal and raw, humiliatingly so.
So what has the Museum of New and Old, Park Avenue Armoury, and 17 other institutions have to do with this experience? They have banded together in this project, allowing visitors to record their heartbeat for all eternity. From 13 different countries, young and old, healthy and sick, they are there, searchable by place and name. Some are soothing with the rhythmic lull of a pendulum, while others are scary, like a drum out of control. What does a heartbeat mean to you? Is it a celebration of life, like the first cry of a new born? If you had a near death experience and your heart beat is heard again it is a sound of relief.
On the way back from the museum to the port of Karato, I heard the soothing sound of the sea, its calm and gentle waves kissing the squeaky white sands of the beach. It made me realise how evocative sound is, it can soothe or scare people. The waves don't represent any particular person, but we readily identify with it the same way that a newborn identifies with a mother's voice.
On the other hand, when I passed an old grandmother, I am reminded of the differences in the sound of our footsteps, the rhythm, pace and hardness. The sound of footsteps may not be as evocative as one's heartbeat, but if we close our eyes and listen to these sounds we get a sense of our humanity.
Archive de Coeur Karato on Teshima is a 15 minute walk or a five minute bike ride on level paved paths from Karato port and bus stop. Cycling is the easiest way to get here but walking is more meditative, allowing your mind to clear itself of distractions as you make your way past aged houses, Shinto shrines and rice fields, before a beautiful beach vista and the museum reveals itself.
Being on an isolated beach, there is no Wi-Fi or battery charging facilities here but as you head back to the Karato port ticket office for a ferry bound for Tonosho or Uno, there is the free Kagawa Prefecture Wi-Fi as well as power points on the wall.
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I knew my future was destined to be with Japan the moment I flew from Sydney to experience the atmospheric lane ways of Kyoto last century. From the skies above Sapporo to the old charm of Naha's alleyways, I have been enchanted by the beauty and variety on every island. I am humbled to have met many distinguished people in my role as Regional Partner, especially the national living treasures of Japan, such as the doll maker to the Imperial Family. From sushi cooking classes to Ninja training grounds I welcome your ideas on what you like from JapanTravel.com. Please visit us in Kyoto or Osaka and have some green tea or sake with us.