Читать книгу Made In Japan - S. Parks J. - Страница 16

On Thursday afternoon they walked to the metro.

‘Trust me, we want to take the Ginza line beyond Asakusa temple.’

Though Hana had wanted to head for Meiji Jingu temple in Harajuku, she went along with it.

The approach to the painted wooden structure at Asakusa was lined with kiosks selling souvenir biscuits, miniature samurai swords and polyester silks, and, under the canopied bronze incense burner, people stood washing in the curling smoke. Cupped hands drew the incense silently over their faces and hands. It was, Hana supposed, as effective as any purification for the soul, and she wanted to try it, wafting trails of incense across the air, following the contours of her upper body. Jess could not be persuaded to join in and they left the main complex to skirt the site for the teahouse.

Their hands traced the brushwood fence tied with origami prayers and tagged wind chimes sang as they passed. Before they reached the teahouse, they came across a forest of little statues lining the path, no more than a foot high, constructed from stones, each wearing startling scraps of red cloth, tied as bibs. Hana called to Jess for an explanation.

‘Those—’ Jess threw out as she marched on ‘—they’re Jizo.’

Hana waited for more.

‘For the God of little ones. Any who died in childhood or were Unborn.’

It was unsettling. Futile rags on petrified stones. And they walked on.

Finally Jess stopped. Opening her arms to a building rising up in front of them: a red pagoda with storied eaves like the exposed ribs of a musical instrument. As if the chimes they had heard along the way emanated from this enormous child’s rattle.

‘Chashitsu. The teahouse,’ Jess said with a flourish, making the pronouncement as if she had guided Hana to the very heart of her pilgrimage. She watched Hana carefully for her reaction but her rapt face changed suddenly.

‘Well, this isn’t it,’ Hana was obliged to point out. ‘A world-famous temple?’ she added crossly.

‘Yes, but the style …’ Jess’s confidence faded. It was a reference and weren’t they out looking for references? Wasn’t this why they had come to the garish, red, Buddhist temple in the first place?

Hana walked around the wooden pagoda. For Jess it was no big deal. She would never get the architectural subtleties. The simplicity of Zen. It was stunning but it was all wrong and far from the simple structure she was looking for. As they left they passed the Jizo stones, draped with fading rags, and coldly chilling.