Shibuya

…and here I stand in front of an ancient temple in Kamakura, half an hour’s train away from Shibuya, where everything was flooded with energy and instantaneous satisfaction. Night has fallen. Young monks are walking towards the canteen, but some on motocycles and some talking on their ultra-slimy mobile phones. But the old timber buildings remained affectionately calm, indifferent to what happens around them, for nearly a thousand years.

Among this silent peacefulness, it suddenly occurs to me that I’m surrounded by spirits. Uncontrolly I fear and respect for something big and powerful around me, maybe it’s called nature, or ghosts, or the great Otherness than makes me so emotionally vulnerable. Maybe this is where all the bowing and politeness came from, this great respect for the unknown, which extends to other fellow human beings; a unique sentimentality that accompanied them through the endless tsunami and earthquakes.

Half an hour later I’m in Shibuya again. Three huge screens occupying the glazed facades of the buildings continue to display synchronized advertising images, each lasting exactly ten seconds. Under them is the famous “Scramble Crossing”, a crazy traffic intersection where 3 million people stampled upon everyday. 45 seconds for the pedestrians, a minute and a half for the cars, repeated indefinitely. I soon got lost in the crowds, deafened by the noises of this chaotic circus that can never quiet down…