During our exchange with the pastor, the same older stooped lady who’d helped us in the hallway snuck in and stood in between us.  I remember thinking that was rather odd but no-one mentioned her so I tried not to think too much about her until I heard her shuffle towards me.  She placed one of her hands on my right shoulder. Although the woman’s touch was gentle, there was something inside me that disliked the way things were going.   

“Repeat the word Hallelujah….over and over again please”“As fast as you can over and over….as if you’re speaking in tongues” explained the pastor.

“Hallelujah…..Hallelujah….Hallelujah” Miyako, the pastor and the lady behind me chanted. I bit my bottom lip hard to suppress the urge to giggle. Miyako was already in a trance. I could hear her repeat the word so fast that the Hallelujah changed into “jah jah jah jah jah jah jah jah …”

The lady behind me began to tap my shoulder encouraging me to chant along with them. I said it once then stopped to take a breath. She tapped me hard and chanted louder and faster as if willing me to copy her. My face felt even more flushed than before. I could feel the beat of my heart on the sides of my temples. My palms started sweating.  This was something I didn’t sign up for. I glanced over at Miyako. Her eyes were still closed, hands gently laying on the table, palms up. The shoulder tapping got harder. I succumbed and said a few Hallelujahs to appease everyone, Miyako in particular.

The chanting subsided and the pastor let go of my hand. I opened my eyes to see that they were all smiling at me.

“Thank you, Sam, for being so open-minded,” Miyako said, again. 

I pushed down the urge to blurt out “Open bloody open-minded, my arse! but I kept those thoughts to myself. 

The pastor, Miyako, and the older lady got up and walked towards the door. I picked up my bag and my phone ready to leave.

“No, no, no – you can leave those here for now,” all three of them said at the same time. 

“We’re probably going to see the Church…finally…” I thought. Maybe photos were forbidden I remembered thinking and that was why they wanted me to leave my phone behind.

I followed them out into the corridor. They were changing from indoor slippers to outdoor slippers. Miyako gestured for me to do the same. I marveled at how there always seemed to be the perfect number of slippers needed for any particular moment.

Miyako and the pastor exited one of the side doors. I followed, with the old lady so close behind I could hear her breathing. The winter air struck me hard and I hugged my arms around my waist to protect myself from the cold. I thought of my coat still hanging in the closet in the hallway. I looked questioningly at Miyako as if to say “What now?” 

I was finding it difficult to remain patient but Miyako seemed so happy and excited, I didn’t want to upset her by demanding to leave. Plus, I had to admit that I was a little curious.

The old lady behind me gently took hold of my elbow and said in faltering English 

“Please…come with me” 

Miyako, now standing with her hands clasped together, eyes closed, was now moving her lips to what I imagined was the same sort of prayer as was said inside the building. She looked up at me as I passed her, smiled and encouragingly whispered 

“It’s ok Sam. Go with her. I’ll wait for you here”

I was taken around the back of the building to a small wooden shed. There was no door per se, only a doorway with a curtain drawn across the threshold, maybe to keep the inside private, I remembered thinking. More indoor slippers were strategically placed on the step leading up to the entrance. I automatically exchanged my outdoor ones for indoor ones again. 

The old lady beckoned me to go through the curtain. I stepped into a warm cozy cabin. The smell of freshly laundered clothing filled the room; the back wall was full of neatly folded garments ranging from towels to socks to soft t-shirts (all white) and there was a curtained off changing room to the left.  I was asked to remove all my clothes, including underwear and jewelry.  She simultaneously handed me a pile of perfectly folded white clothes to include underwear, trousers, long-sleeved top and a knee length yukata that tied around the waist.

At this point, my comfort level escalated from nervous to alarmed. Should I be scared? I thought to myself. I wasn’t at all. I was agitated, but also intrigued, excited, and above all curious. I wasn’t in the slightest bit concerned that I could have been in danger. In the four years I had lived in Japan I had embraced their trusty, peace loving natures. I remembered thinking that maybe I would have felt differently in another part of the world in this same situation. I thought I had gone this far, so why not see whatever they had in store for me the whole way through.

There was a knock at the door. The old lady bowed as she came in. I had slipped on all the required clothing with ease. She looked me up and down and approved my appearance with a nod. She then gestured for me to kneel down. 

“ Be prepare for pastor you must kneel and bow when touch shoulder” she whispered – I had to cock my ear to hear her barely audible voice. I did as I was asked and practiced the kneeling and bowing until she gave another nod of approval.

We left the changing shed. Again, indoor slippers off, outdoor slippers on. Now just a quick blessing I thought in the church and then back to normality and dinner. 

The wind sliced through the garments I was wearing – I wondered how many unassuming people had put these on – whether they were fooled into it or had expressly chosen to do it – quite a few I imagined, judging by the worn feel of them.  The wind cut into my skin like razor blades. 

We came back to the front of the building and I caught sight of Miyako who was standing next to what looked like a large hot tub. “Why hadn’t I noticed that on the way to the shed?” I thought. Her eyes were closed and she was chanting Hallelujah over and over again, in the same trance-like way as before. It took all the will power in me to stifle the urge to laugh out loud. I imagined being greeted by an Ashton Kutcher look-a-like and be told: “you’ve been Punk’d!”. But no. If only. My heart sank. “How did I get myself into this mess?” “Really Miyako?…”

I was so honed in on Miyako and my own thoughts that my mind hadn’t focussed on the pastor standing next to the tub. She was smiling and beckoning me towards her. She was wearing the same white clothes as I was. Then it dawned on me. I tried again, but unsuccessfully, to catch Miyako’s eye, but couldn’t distract her from her reverie.  This was a baptism ritual. Without asking me. Without forewarning me. Without my permission. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to bolt…to grab my clothes and run. Instead, I followed the pastor. “I was doing this for Miyako…” I thought, trying to convince myself.

*Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric from Pexels