Lilith and I get surveilled

 

"That's funny," I told the Filipina woman who emerged from the back of the Temple area to shoo me away, holding a shaka to the side of her head like a phone. "There are cameras all around," she gestured, "and I got a call." It was 7:45 a.m., 45 minutes before opening. I told her we walk in the cemetery every day, and she softened, a bit. "It's a corporation," she said, indicating her lack of responsibility for what she was doing, and I told her I understood. But I did tell her that I didn't like what was happening to the temple and the cemetery. Looking around, I saw a flimsy white deck with fencing, where tourists can pose for pictures with their lei; a shack (what they sell unclear at this early hour); I heard no clanking of bamboo in the wind, because the bamboo were bulldozed months ago. Behind the "sacred bell" and up a hill beside the temple, there's a meditation hut. A sign suggests that you can go there for silence, to get away from the crowds. But the path that led there was blocked off. If you want to feed carp in the pond these days, the food costs $6 (according to Hoku), as much as the new parking charge (and they know if you park near the cemetery entrance for free and walk up, without paying).

I told her that I had a student at UH whose grand uncle was resident minister at the Temple, back when it was actually Buddhist. He sent me this information a couple of weeks ago. I'm uncertain of its provenance, but he would know. He had been the first and the last resident minister.

 

### 1. It is Dedicated as a Sacred Space

Even though the temple does not belong to a single exclusive Buddhist sect (like Jodo Shinshu or Soto Zen), it was still officially dedicated as a sacred, interfaith Buddhist space when it opened in 1968 to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Japanese immigrants arriving in Hawaii. To maintain its authenticity as a sacred temple rather than just an empty theme park attraction, the creators wanted ordained clergy on-site.

 

Lilith and I left the way we came, over the short bridge and under the yellow rope. Looking up to the left, we saw a surveillance camera staring at us; on the other side of the bridge, we saw another couple of cameras, attached to the small building where tourists buy tickets. The prices had gone up recently. But before leaving her, I asked to "please say hello to Rex for me." He da boss.

 

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My former student also sent me his grand-uncle's obituary: "The Rev. Egen Iwasaburo and Mutsuko Yoshikami, husband and wife, of Enchanted Lake will be remembered in services 6 p.m. Tuesday at Hosoi Garden Mortuary. He was a retired resident minister at Byodo-in Temple, aged 93, and his wife, Mutsuko, was a retired Shiatsu practitioner, aged 80. He died Sunday Sep 26, 1999 in a head-on collision on Kaneohe Bay Drive."