Chapter 6 Pilgrimage Day 25

Diary of the White Bush Clover

Day 25 (30 October) Haramachida to Tōkyō

Today was finally the last day. I woke up earlier in the morning because I had to return to the road at Haramachida, far from where I had stayed last night. I left at 7 o’clock and went back to my starting point, which took one hour. There were rice fields on either side of the river. It was the harvest season but after the typhoon the stalks of ripe grain had fallen down into the waterlogged fields and turned black. I remembered the beautiful flat rice fields at Omiheia, twenty days ago. In that area the people worked only as farmers so the power of agriculture was strong there. But in this place the farmers sometimes worked at another job and I did not feel the same power of agriculture. I felt sorry for these rice fields. There was a lack of agricultural manpower here because they could only cut the rice on Sunday. We can get good results only when we focus on one thing.

At the border of the prefecture I found a sign board, City of Tōkyō. At last I had entered Tōkyō. I was within two hours of my final destination. I stood and stared at the sign board. My twenty-five days of walking from Kyōto through Shiga, Gifu, Aichi, Shizuoka and Kanagawa prefectures would soon be finished and all my troubles had changed to good memories.

I walked through the landscape of rice fields. After that the number of houses increased and I could see familiar names, a sign that I was getting closer to Tōkyō. I knew the places around here and I felt I had almost reached my goal. I sat down on the bank of the Tama-gawa and took the persimmons and tangerines from my rucksack, preparing to eat them. Some construction workers sat down to eat lunch close near me and I gave them the fruit instead of eating it myself. They were very happy.

I crossed the bridge over the river and walked beside the railway line toward to Shibuya. When I was an elementary school student I used to walk to the Tama-gawa to play. It made me feel very nostalgic. Who would ever guess that I would walk the same road on a pilgrimage? No one knows the future. Compared to the old days the town looked very busy, full of many people and shops. I began walking faster and forgot my travel fatigue.

At Josen-ji, the last temple on my pilgrimage, I greeted the priest, asked him to write in my notebook and gave thanks for safely completing my journey. My travels were over at last but I did not feel any deep emotion at all. I do not know why. Every day my purpose had been to walk to Tōkyō. Finally when I arrived in Tōkyō my purpose was gone. At the start no one had been there to see me off and in Tōkyō no one was there when I arrived. I did not speak to any of my family or friends the day I returned. Instead I sat in the main temple with a feeling of deep serenity. My journey seemed long but at the same time short and now it was over. My heart was calm and quiet. I sat there remembering my journey, which was both a distant memory and fresh in my awareness.

I had walked from west to east for twenty-five days. The right side of my face was tanned and the color of my left and right hands was different. This contrast was a good memory for me. I went to the post office and sent over thirty telegrams to let my family and friends know of my safe arrival. A newspaper reporter from the Asahi Shimbun showed up but I said, “No, no, no, I do not want to be in the newspaper.”

Then I returned to my home in Nara, a three hour trip by shinkansen. At dinner that night they served a big sea bream fish in celebration of my safe return. I was filled with great satisfaction. I would never be able to do this kind of pilgrimage again and I felt deep appreciation for the many people who supported me and the many people I met during my journey.

One week after I got back to Nara, I went to Jakko-in. Jakko-in is the number one sub-temple of Hie-zan, the main temple where all the Tendaishu monks do their training. My teacher, Chiko-san, the head nun, made sekihan, sweet sticky rice with red beans used for special celebrations, and many other special dishes in honor of my return. She gave me a kesa, a special red-gold silk stole. Kesa can be bought by believers but they are usually given only to monks. The color is very special. Believers usually wear white kesa but I received one signifying the highest rank.