The English translation below the Japanese calligraphy read: “No. 59 BAD FORTUNE”. “Stop marriage of any kind, and new employment” it said. My husband and I looked at each other and chuckled–it was the first day of our honeymoon. “Too late now!” we laughed. I folded and tied the fortune to a nearby metal rack into a paper knot next to the strips of papers from other unlucky people hoping to leave their misfortune behind.

We were up early from jet lag visiting our first Buddist temple, Senso-ji in the Asakusa neighborhood. Even though the temple was in the middle of one of the largest cities in the world, it felt like its own peaceful oasis–at least at this time of the day. At 8:30am, I passed through two towering gates and an alley lined with street vendors in order to reach the temple. Except for a handful of early risers, we were alone. The stores were still closed, their metal garage doors drawn. 

It was nearly cherry blossom season and the vendors mounted synthetic pink flowers on top of their shops, creating a canopy framing the temple at the end. The cherry blossoms were supposed to signal the start of spring, but it felt like winter that morning. I could almost see my breath and I’d shrugged my shoulders up to my ears in an unconscious effort to keep warm. I finally entered a courtyard and spotted a massive metal urn at the bottom of the temple’s stairs releasing wisps of gray smoke. The sharp smell of incense filled my nostrils. I wafted the smoke toward me to purify myself, as was customary before entering the temple. 

Inside there were less than a dozen tourists, but in front of a gilded altarpiece with intricate carvings there were a few locals with their hands in prayer. To the right of the altarpiece, there was a cabinet with a hundred tiny drawers and a metal canister. I dropped 100 yen into the offertory box, then I shook the canister while I made a wish. A metal stick with a number engraved on the end slipped out. I opened the drawer with the corresponding number and withdrew a piece of paper with my fortune. Feeling deflated after drawing a bad fortune, I was tempted to try my luck again, but instead I decided to keep exploring.

We went to a nearby building to get our first Goshuin, an official stamp to mark our visit to the Senso-ji Temple. Three middle-aged women in white smocks sat behind the counter at a table with paint brushes in hand. While we waited, the temperature had dropped and large, fluffy flakes of snow cascaded from the sky. They melted the moment they hit the pavement, but the unexpected snow made us giddy. We walked through it nearly forgetting how cold we were before.

So far our first few hours in Tokyo were full of contradictions–a bad marriage fortune and snow in spring. We hoped we could learn how to please the gods better during the rest of our trip.