Pilgrimage Paparazzi - T12

May 5 cont...

Sometimes people commented on my ‘worship routine’ being so short. I didn’t necessarily want it to be so short, I just didn’t know the Heart Sutra that everyone else either read from their little books or recited by memory. I liked rituals and had a few of my own but they had to have meaning for me. I was very aware of the power they held so I didn’t want to light candles and incense and recite a mantra that I didn’t know, just because that’s-what-you-do. I wanted to develop my own ritual or ‘way’ that had significance for me.

When we got to Temple 12 I fumbled through my routine around the Daishi-do (a hall that enshrines an image of Kukai) and the Hon-do (the main hall where the principle image (honzon) of the temple is enshrined) then made my way back down the steps to the stamp office.

As I got to the bottom of the steps, a man, who looked a lot like Jack Black’s character in King Kong, complete with trilby hat, approached me and asked if he could take a photograph of me. This wasn’t unusual – I was approached at almost every temple by someone wanting a picture and because I hadn’t seen another Gaijin Henro, I had assumed I was a novelty.
I said Sure then stood on the bottom step feeling very awkward and uncomfortable after our long arduous climb and did my best to smile. I then noticed a man standing beside him who had one of those sun reflector thingies and the Jack Black man was directing him to move it. This is when I got suspicious. Also – he took picture after picture. A few times I said Arigato and went to move toward the stamp office and he would rush forward, saying Sumimasen! then stand back to take some more. By now I was feeling duped. I didn’t know what it was all about but I sensed he wasn't just another Henro merely capturing trail memories.

Finally I just said Arigato, held my hand up to shield my face so he could see I didn’t want anymore pictures taken and walked away. This would normally be seen as extremely rude but I felt this man was taking advantage of me and I had already discovered the polite way didn’t work.

As I was standing in line at the stamp office the photographer approached me again. By now everyone around me was fascinated as if they had been watching a movie. He had a clipboard with a form on it that he thrust at me. Even though the form was in Japanese I had seen enough release forms from my work back home in the film company to recognise what it was. This confirmed what I had suspected and I knew not to sign anything until my friends could tell me what it was said. I told him I wanted my friend to translate for me and that I would be back with her. I turned around to get my stamp then left before he could say anything else.

I found Akemi San and asked if she could do me a favour. Of course she was happy to. On the way down the steps I explained briefly what had happened.

By the time we got to the photographer all of my other friends had gathered around us too. It was a scene of mayhem as everyone talked at once and tried to read the photographers form over Akemi San's shoulder. I blocked out everyone else and stayed focused on Akemi San. She explained to me that this man was from the Tokushima Tourist Something and was taking pictures for a travel brochure. The form said that they wanted pictures of Gaijin Henro and thanked me for the pictures I had allowed him to take but that they already had a lot of pictures so there was a chance they would never use the ones of me, however, they would let me know if they did. The man then gave us his and his assistant’s business cards.

I asked Akemi San what she thought. I doubted very much that I would soon see myself on the front cover of a girly magazine dressed in the unsexy Henro clothes I was wearing so when Akemi San said she felt they were legitimate, I signed the forms.

As we all left and everyone was still laughing while recounting the amusing event, we were stopped by another man with a camera on a tripod also asking if he could get a photo. By now I was overwhelmed and pretended not to understand. I kept walking, only turning around once I had gone out the gates, bowing back to the temple to thank it for having me, then continued down the stairs.

Those men weren’t interested in me, where I was from or why I was doing the Pilgrimage – my appearance just happened to fit a demographic they had been instructed to collect. I didn't have to be either part of Brangelina for the experience to give me a new appreciation of how it must feel for the famous people forced to deal with the Paparazzi every day.