It didn’t start off as a pilgrimage. Initially I was going to have a relaxing day in town, and opt for the local spa. I heard there was an onsen (Japanese spa) that allowed one to have tattoos. I asked the front desk of my hotel to confirm this and if there was availability. The staff member queried how many tattoos I had. “Six” I replied, when really it was closer to 8. He asked the question, then shook his head, I was informed tattoos were allowed, but the cap was 2. I had been warned about hiding my tattoos in Japan, as it may be assumed I was part of a gang. I nodded my head, admitting slight frustration. Out of my mouth, the next question that arose “are there any bicycles left to borrow?” Yes, there were three currently for hotel guests to use. I had to go somewhere on my day off. I was going on an unexpected pilgrimage.
In recent days I had explored what was reasonably close to the hotel, and had noted within 2.5 miles was Futenma Shrine. This was a shrine built in the 1450s during the Ryuku era, and a US military base is located right next to it and a sacred cave underneath it. My knowledge about the shrine was limited, but I was determined to see shrine while in Okinawa. To walk to the Futenma Shrine would take nearly an hour, but one could reach it by bicycle in less than 20 minutes. Although I had a tiny cold, I opted for the bicycle route. How bad could 20 minutes be?
What I discovered was some of this route would be uphill, and the bike was a beach cruiser. There were no gears, and I am not a bicycle afficionado. And so the trek began. Once I got outside of the main streets of Chatan, nobody was riding bicycles and there were few pedestrians, as I bicycled and escorted by bicycle around the perimeter of Camp Foster. I gave myself verbal pep talks, that I could do this. I did the Camino, I got this, only one more mile to go. The projected 20 minute journey was closer to 40 minutes, as I followed google map’s route. It encouraged me to get off my bike and walk uphill on a side road, which was blocked off by flags. I circumvented this, and when I reached the top the plastic barrier was larger. I crawled under this with my bike.
A staff member said in Japanese to park my bike where I was. He probably also yelled at me for taking the side road that was covered with flags, discouraging entrance. I smiled wiped off the sweat, bowed, hoping he would forgive this unknowing American. My Japanese is minimal, but through motions we communicated. I began to walk towards the parking lot further uphill but was encouraged to go downhill to the entrance. I followed the crowd. This was a proper one day pilgrimage. Sweat and effort to go to a holy place, not knowing what to expect, reliance on others, and oftentimes language barriers.
Behold the beauty of the Shrine in front of me, but there was a separate area to the side where people were standing in line to purchase items. Was there an entrance fee? Was it souvenirs or offerings? I noticed people cleaning their hands with water in a beautiful trough. I followed what I saw. I opted to go into a room where people were waiting, everything was in Japanese. I was the only English speaker there. I asked a staff member if she spoke English, she did not but brought out another staff member. I knew there was a cave below, I queried how to get to this. “Write your name over there, wait, you will be escorted.” I followed orders, and within a minute was escorted in Japanese with three other people to the cave downstairs.
No photos were allowed in this sacred space. Although I longed to document this part of the journey, I didn’t want to disrespect the rules. Prior to entering in a single file line, the staff member bowed deeply. We each took our turns bowing to this sacred symbol, we walked further and then bowed to the cave. The staff member left us, and from what I understood we each had free time to wander the cave, pray, and be in this sacred space before the next scheduled group to arrive in 20 minutes. There were small coin offerings in little nooks, and a small mini shrine in the front. I always felt comfortable in caves, after living in Spain, and being able to visit them quite frequently. Caves with stalagmites seem to offer a living breathing holy space, where silence is encouraged in the midst of the dark corners. I admit I don’t know much about Shintoism. I noticed one woman kneeling and praying to the small altar. When she was complete, I followed suit. Internally I automatically I said the Hail Mary. I didn’t know how to worship in the confines of this religion, and therefore I thanked the world and universe for having this opportunity to visit, for who is in my life, and for life.
As my allotted time in the cave was ending, I explored what was upstairs. There was an area to pay 100 yen (less than $1) and receive a fortune, and one stash were in English. I paid the 100 yen and received an interesting fortune. As I peaked into the shrine, individual groups of families entered and had time with a staff member, who played the drums and repeated prayers for them. It seemed to be some type of honoring or blessing. As the other visitors stood outside, we each took turns giving an offering. One gives a small amount of money, bows and claps twice, then prays. I was familiar with this, as the week prior when going to the Cherry Blossom festival and climbing and visiting a small shrine in the mountain, we were taught to do this. One seemed to do this individually, with one’s partner, or as a family. Throughout the shrine, there were fortunes hung and left behind. If one doesn’t like the fortune you paid to receive, you could leave it there. I kept mine. It was too intriguing to leave behind.
I spent an hour at this shrine, and as I left there was a tiny drizzle. I mounted my bike and walked it down the blocked off side road (like a rebel), and headed back. Now the path was downhill, and the ride lasted 20 minutes. As I sat on my beach cruiser in the rain, I was pleased I pushed myself to visit this site. I smiled as I rod the path, and it was an interesting feeling this unexpected pilgrimage I took by myself. I barely spoke to anyone, as I do not speak Japanese, and had no friends or family with me. This was a memory that only I could recall in the future, as it was experienced only by me. Mental note made to remember this moment.
*I had researched afterwards the stories linked to this cave, to find out more check on the link below. The following paragraph is taken from the accompanying website:
Megami.
Initially, the first deity is a female by the name Megami. The legend goes that two sisters used to reside in the Syuri area, one being of immeasurable beauty. This was Megami, but she was also pious and devout, locking herself away and dedicating her time to spiritual pursuits. Her younger sister married, and the husband became curious of the legendary beauty. One day, he decided to sneak a peak at Megami, who caught him. She was horrified, and fled from the house in hysterics, disappearing into the caves of Futenma, never to be seen again. Since then, she has become a divine being of the cave.
It Only Takes A Smile 