The first impression Kako had walking along the walls of Tofuku-ji Temple
was that it was dark. Spooky horror dark. If it hadn't been that full moonlit
night, she may have had second thoughts on moving ahead. Kako had no
idea what was beyond those walls. It was the first time she had ever come
near the place and she had not seen any photos of it either. But the dark
quietness assured her that it was a large famous temple, well guarded by
holy spirits if not by security cameras. Since she felt it was important to
check out security measures as she walked along, she was careful to check
whether she was being monitored by camera eyes, but none seemed to
be around. If there were any, they must have been carefully hidden.
Perhaps the fact that it was so dark was enough ninja security it needed.
During her journey she was to find that for the intruder, dark areas with
shadows of trees, statues and unknown objects were scarier than familiar
warning signs or guards.
Sensing the walk may take her through the night, she adjusted her luggage
so she could easily tread along the temple walls. Soon she came to a flight
of steps that led to a large gate. The gate was closed, and no signs were
apparent, so Kako thought it must be some sort of side gate. She also
decided that this was the closest she could get to the temple; all other
gates would surely be closed. Her mission was not to find a way into this
vast place. If that was the mission, professionals would have better access
and therefore it wasn't her job to look into that. She somehow felt that it
was important for her to follow the flow and only do what seemed possible
and safe for someone like her; someone who was walking around the place
for the first time with no clear directions or knowledge of what had to be
done.
The gate was lit by a street light and moonlight. It reminded her of the last
act of La Bayadere, the kingdom of the shades of an Indian temple. The area
did not seem to be a place normal locals would walk through at night. She
felt safe, and the sacred air told her to pray there and sing a song to let the
gods know that she had been there.
She lay her belongings on the ground, and sang. A song in English and a
song in Japanese. It was important to choose whatever song that seemed
to come to her mind in an impro sort of way.
It felt curiously safe, as if she were on stage, watched over by stage hands
and a very wise audience. An audience that wouldn't judge her, but would
let her be.