Photo by Kate Croft

t's said that a picture tells 1000 words. While I have never been a keen fan of photography, as either the subject or the picture taker, it is only recently that I have come to strongly disbelieve in the aforementioned adage. A picture is a visual history of the 'what'. Without the assistance of digital imprinting, it fails to tell as the 'when'. If we are already familiar with the subjects, we might also be treated to the 'who'.

But without another form of history taken, a picture fails spectacularly in telling us the 'how' or - more importantly - the 'why'. In so doing, I believe that the picture not only fails to live up to its promise of telling 1000 words, it robs us of 1000 words.

This theory bears significant relevance to my current Japan experience. As a young woman from Melbourne, Australia, I am not really accustomed to encountering 1000-year-old shrines. And yet this morning, in my search for caffeine and sustenance, I walked straight by the Asakusa Shrine without a moment of pause. Had I really become so blase about this Japanese wonder, and after only two months in the country? No, not really.

The fact of the matter is I had visited this site days earlier, and captured it on film. And in so doing, I figured myself to have finished with this location. I could always look back at the pictures, right?

But thanks to my self-analysing nature, I recognised this behaviour before the shrine was out of sight and forced myself back. Slowly, carefully I revisited the same steps upon which I had sat days earlier. The same urn, temple, fountain. I watched as countless others took pictures similar to those I had taken. I watched this process with renewed interest. A pattern presented itself.

1. Locate site of interest. If this cannot be establised by personal opinion, flock to the point where tourists linger.
2. Approach site, uncover camera.
3. If accompanied, have friend/family member take a photo of you standing lifelessly infront of historic marvel. Smile big.
4. If alone, either turn camera to face you and point, or speak in loud, slow, deliberate English to Japanese local, requesting they take your picture.
5. After basic portrait is captured, it's time for an action shot! A time-honoured ritual is best for the photo album, so watch the locals. In the case of the Asakusa Shrine, for example, the urn outside the Kannondo Temple provides a great setting. Pour smoke over oneself and strike a pose!

In watching these tourists, and recognising myself and my friends I came to see the problem with photography. Like much of our modern lifestyle, it is done to capture the moment most efficiently, and quickly. The price we pay for the convenience of a bound album filled with photos, though, is meaning.

Had I not realised my error this morning I might have visited this beautiful site once only. I would have participated in the rituals, documented the traditions... and never asked "Naze".