16May09: Lindsay McGaan

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88 Temple Essay

I slipped my arm into the white pilgrim jacket, crossing one side over the other before tying it closed at my hip. Next was the sash: I draped the iris purple silk around my neck, admiring the gold stitching. Feeling confident and prepared for my second experience on the henro trail, I tied a bell around my walking staff and was once again transformed from a local English teacher into an o-herno-san, or pilgrim, for a day on the pilgrim's path. On Saturday, May 16th, six and a half months after the seven hour hike through Tadotsu and Zentsuji, I joined the Kagawa prefectural government for another guided hike on the Shikoku 88 Temple pilgrim's trail. Unlike my previous experience, having visiting many temples in a single day, this hike brought us to only two: Nagaoji and Okuboji, the final two temples on the pilgrimage circuit. Also unlike the last hike, this one was far from flat. We were to climb up and over Mt. Nyotai, a wooded mountain in the south east of Kagawa prefecture, nestled on the border of Tokushima. As the final stretch for Shikoku henro, this was a particularly significant path for those who make the full journey. Although only a "pilgrim for a day," I sensed a feeling of closure that would come with our arrival at Okuboji.

Unexpectedly, the temples themselves are secondary in my memory to the actual process of moving between them. This day was more about the henro walk and physical challenge than the temple rituals as we spent nearly four hours hiking to and over Mt. Nyotai. The hike from Nagaoji to the mountain was light and scenic, but we soon reached the base and began the physical and mental challenge of the climb. There are a few possible routes towards the mountain's tip and the majority of us took the traditional unpaved path, often discernable only by small markers dangling from tree branches. We plodded on damp moss through woods thick with bamboo and evergreen, past mountain streams and waterfalls, crossing bridges and stepping stones. We passed hidden burial sites and vacant houses and spotted macaque monkeys on the banks of a nearby river. We were far from the Japan I am familiar with; train tracks and cement walls seemed impossibly distant. Gradually, though, my thoughts became consumed by the sheer difficulty of moving upwards. The mountain which had begun as a gentle slope concluded two hours later with a four-limbed scramble up the rocky peak. We arrived at the top sweaty and with heavy breath, enthralled with the view of our path sprawling below. Okuboji, about 800 meters below, made its presence known as temple bells and incense scents made their way up the mountain path. Although my arrival at temple #88 was not a true completion of the pilgrimage, it was a significant finale to a single day's challenge and to two years on the island of Shikoku.

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