Finding Ones' Self (Part 2)

“What is the significance about this temple?” Nate asked as we waited for the Subway.

Jessica and I shrugged. “I just know it costs 30RMB to get in,” Jessica said.

“It must be important somehow if the party allowed it to stay,” Nate said. We suddenly all felt like we were being watched. We’d just talked about the party in public, and there was an ominous 1984 tone that fell over the station.

When we came up from the Subway system at the Jiang Temple stop, we were initially lost. We took a left and headed down the street. It didn’t feel right to me but I followed along. When we came to a turn, I said, “I think it’s this way.” I can’t explain it, but since arriving here, I feel like I have this sixth sense on where things are. I’ve been right every time, but I’ve never used a map or anything. I really can’t explain it.

We made the turn, and sure enough, just at the end of the alley was the temple.

The first thing we saw was a large marble pillar with a bunch of Chinese script written on it. At the top was a statue of four lions surrounding a flower and facing four different directions. I read when we got home that the flower is supposed to represent Buddha and the lions represent the spreading of his teachings to all directions of the land.

We bought a ticket at a window. The price posted was 50RMB. I tried showing my student ID to get a discount but the woman just shook her fist and took my 50RMB note. Once inside, we were in a beautiful courtyard. There were beautiful gilded roofs with incredible wooden banisters. A large staircase led up into the main temple.

In the courtyard, people were buying incense from a little stand. There was a fire to light it while they then stood bowing and praying. Nate explained that the incense is meant to get the attention of whoever you are praying to (Buddha, ancestors, or a God.) I wanted to try it, so I went and bought a bundle of incense. There were three sticks taped together. I saw that others were peeling it off and throwing it in the trash. I did the same, but found that it was super sticky.

I held the three sticks together over the large metal drum that had the fire in it. It took forever to get it to light. I rotated them around in a couple different directions trying to grab the flame. Once they caught, I took a few steps away. I watches as different people turned in different directions and bowed. Since my God is all over the place, I felt free to choose any direction. Holding the sticks in both hands, I closed my eyes and prayed silently in my head. When I finished, I bowed about 45*. Opening my eyes, I realized my incense had gone out. Looking at it again, I realized it was still smoldering and the ends were burning just enough to make smoke. This seemed to be what everyone else’s looked like, so it must be okay. I bowed once more, before going to toss my sticks in the separate fire they were being returned to.

There was a large tower in the center of the courtyard. People were throwing coins into it. There was no explanation as to why, and searching the internet has not brought up any more information. Passing the large tower, we walked up the giant marble staircase to the main temple.

Inside the temple was a huge statue of Buddha. It was at least two stories tall. In front of it was an altar with various fruit offerings. On the ground were rows of red, silk pillows. People were kneeling on pillows, bowing, and praying. Jessica and Nate moved on to the back room, while I watched this little ritual.

Two teenage boys came up and kneeled. They closed their eyes and held their hands like little kids do when they first learn to kneel by their bed at night. They prayed for a few seconds and when they were done, they began bowing. They each bowed three times, each time touching their forehead and the backs of their hands to the pillow. When they left. I gave it a try.

Kneeling on a pillow, I tried to do what they did. I pressed my palms together in front of my face. “Dear God,” I prayed silently in my head. “Thank you for getting me here safely and watching over me. I look forward to the many great adventures we will have together here and I hope you will show me things that challenge me and help me to grow.” When I was done, I bowed and touched my forehead to the pillow, placing the back of my hands on the ground next to each of my ears. I leaned back up and repeated the motion two more times.

Finished, I stood up and walked around to the back room. There were more murals of Buddha each with red pillows in front of them for prayer. Catching up Nate and Jessica, I asked, “I thought Buddhism was a nontheistic religion.”

“It is,” Nate said. “But they still believe that Buddha can influence things in this life. There are a lot of Santa Claus prayers going on right now.”

We stepped through a door and out to a back balcony where we could see the various levels of the monastery. I started to walk down the staircase to go around and see other rooms.

“Do you think we can?” Jessica asked.

“I got kicked out a church in Austria,” I said. “It’s not as bad as you think. The worst they can do is ask us to leave.” I realize that’s a probably a little insensitive, but I really wanted to see as much as we could.

As we walked up a staircase, we passed a monk dressed in the traditional orange robes. Nate put his hands together and bowed. The monk did the same and then walked on. “When you see a monk, you are supposed to bow,” Nate explained.

We walked around the various balconies, peeking into the rooms that had opened doors. There was only one that we were asked to leave, because it looked like they were setting up for some sort of meeting. The next room over however had a beautiful display for various furniture that had belonged to different leaders at the temple. It was all smooth and carved of oak.

The entire temple was pretty much under construction. Nate was puzzled by this. “Why would they be investing so much money in restoring this?”

“Well,” I said. “There is money to be made in religion.”

We made our way down to the lowest level of balconies. Inside the temple, underneath the room that had held the big Buddha was a room with rows of Buddha statues. Each had a slightly different face and was holding a different tool. One was playing a flute, another had a hammer; some looked angry, while others were happy.

The Buddha on the end caught my eye. He appeared to be holding a table of some sort.

“Is that an iPad,” I joked.

“It might be,” Nate said. “These are all the reincarnations of Buddha.”

“How many times was Buddha reincarnated?” I asked, not aware that that had happened.

“Depends on who you ask,” Nate said. “Buddha was the enlightened one who was continually reincarnated to spread his teachings.”

“Is he still around today,” I asked, a little skeptically.

“That is the main division between the sects of Buddhism,” Nate said. “Some think he has moved on to the spirit world, others think he is still with us.”

That was a little hard to swallow. An enlightened being who took human form—ok, that’s not really any crazier than the Son of God thing we believe in Christianity…in fact, it’s pretty much the same—but the reincarnation process is a little harder. I mean, I guess Christianity would also believe that Jesus is with us, but not physically speaking per se. There is certainly some overlap here, but it’s a little harder for me to get my mind around.

“Do we know who Buddha is currently?” I asked.

“The Daili Lama,” Nate explained.

Oh! That makes sense.

“When he dies,” I asked, “How do they determine who he became? Is there a selection process like they use for the Mormon prophet?”

“They basically look at the babies that were born at the time he died,” Nate said. “They bring them into the testing chamber and have them point at specific objects that were special or sacred to the Daili Lama. If they choose the correct objects, that means he remembers them and is the Buddha.”

That’s a little harder to understand. I mean it is not outside the realm of possibility. Over the years the Daili Lama has had some very influential and powerful teachings. And reincarnation has its own beauty about it. The notion that this world is meant for teaching how to live and love and the next world will be one of harmony, that’s quite poetic, and not altogether different from Christian Heaven.

“What are the red flags that are hung up?” I asked pointing around the room.

“Prayer flags,” Nate said.

“What do they do?”

“You write a prayer on them and then when the flag blows in the wind, the wind carries the prayer. Instead of saying it all the time, the wind says it all the time.”

Now that is beautiful, I thought.

Outside, the back garden was mostly under construction. There were a few bamboo trees and other leafy plants going. What I mostly noticed was the sound of drums and bells.

We looped back out into the main courtyard. I pointed at two towers and said, “Do you want to try and get up there?”

“Do you want to watch the offering first?” Nate said.

I realized that a group of monks had gathered in the center. They were the ones playing the bells and the drums. People were gathering around them and pressing their palms together to pray. After a few minutes, another group came forward. They were dressed in street clothes and carrying brightly colored woven sacks. They went to one of the fire pits where we’d placed our leftover incense. One at a time, they each tossed in their bags. There was a little cracking sound as the bags were consumed. Little puffs of debris occasionally flicked out and fell to ground. Once they were mostly consumed, the monks proceeded out of the center and into a back room.

We made our way upstairs to another balcony.

“So what was the point of the offering?” I asked.

“Are you familiar with the Chinese view of family?” Nate asked.

“Not specifically,” I said.

“So in most Asian cultures,” he explained, “The family is the smallest unit, not the individual. The individual is just part of the family unit. Parents devote everything they have to the survival of their children. As a result, children owe everything to their parents and must obey their every wish.”

I thought of how American movies often portray Chinese families. It does seem that in many of them, the Chinese parents are overly protective and controlling. Somewhere in the plot, the Chinese daughter realizes she must do what she wants to do and break free from her parents. While America champions this as a sign of independence and personal freedom, I can see how it would be culturally insulting to the Chinese. I think the best parallel would be if a movie was made in which an American daughter fakes her own death, disappears, and becomes a drug dealer; it’s a less a story of freedom and more a story of abandoning your life out of rebellion.

“So since your parents devote everything to your survival as a child, you must devote everything to their survival later in life. You would pay for their retirement and take them in to take care of them.”

That actually kind of makes sense. I mean our society is nowhere near set up with that mindset (twenty-some-things are not financially stable enough to take care of their parents under our system of economy) but the concept of it really is very loving and very logical.

“You also have to take care of your parents in the spiritual world,” Nate explained. “You have to send them money and food. You probably just saw a couple thousand burned.”

I took a minute for that to sink in. “Well you know,” I said. “I’m an American. My government burns a couple thousand dollars every day.”

We walked around the balcony and saw the drum tower and the bell tower. The more shrines, including one to Siddhartha Guatama (the original Buddha) that beautiful and carved from white marble. Our last stop was a small, dry well people were throwing coins into.

We left the temple and started walking down the street. Dayana called Jessica and wanted to know if we could help her find a book store she read about online. We agreed we would and said we’d meet her at the subway in an hour. That gave us some time to just wander.

I saw a cool looking building off in the distance. It has lots of cool spires and looked to be a couple hundred years old.

“What is that?” Jessica asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m going there.”

We weaved down some pretty busy streets, passed lots of pretty parks and busy shops. If I had to compare Shanghai to a European city, I think it is most comparable to Barcelona. The layout of the streets is very similar, as well as all of the tropical trees along the streets.

We finally reached the cool looking building and I started snapping pictures. I took a few of the stone pillars, the black and gold iron gate, the beautiful flower garden, the guard stalls, the sign that said “Gate 7”…

Guards? Gate 7? Was this a military building? It definitely looked like it. If it was, taking pictures seemed like a bad idea. But then I noticed a sign that said “Tours at gate 6.” Whatever it was, I was going to come back to see it.

We continued walking and found our way to West Nanjing Road. Jessica wanted to stop for a drink at The Happy Lemon, a little juice franchise that is all over the place here. Nate got a mango smoothie, Jessica got an aloe tea, and I got a green tea with lemon. It was seriously the best iced tea I’ve ever had. I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to Starbucks.

We went back for Dayana, and from the map she’d drawn off the internet, figured out how to navigate to the bookstore. The first bookstore we found only sold Chinese books, but the English bookstore was right next door.

I had an idea. The books I had in Europe definitely helped me navigate Prague. I had Henry Kissinger’s history on China (but it is admittedly a slow read.) Maybe a book on what to see and do in China would help me understand what I am seeing and doing.

I made my way to the travel section and found rows of books on different cities and countries around the world. There wasn’t much on China, but I did find one on Shanghai. In flipping through it, I learned more in about two paragraphs than I had in the four days I’ve been here. For example, I had no idea that Shanghai was known as “Paris of the East.” That would explain some of the randomly high prices on things…not to mention the very international slew of people I’ve seen on the subway.

Just as I ready to buy it though, I found one on China. I was torn on which to buy, but thumbing through both, I decided to go with the China one. It had most of the same information as the Shanghai book, and I figured at some point I do want to venture out of the city to see more sites. Having some historical and practical advice on what to do on those adventures would probably be the most successful way to pull them off.

For dinner we found our way to a restaurant Jessica’s friend had recommended. It was called Charmant and was supposedly famous for their mango smoothies. We ordered three of those, as well as roasted duck, three cup chicken (which was the house special, cooked in a sauce that was one cup soy sauce, one cup, sesame sauce, and one cup of Baiju, which is Chinese rice wine…all roasted with basil and garlic), sea food fried rice, and some sort of basil and egg dish.

Our waitress seemed puzzled when Nate ordered three smoothies (Dayana got Perrier instead.) Nate insisted that was what we wanted. She brought three glass ramekins, each with a small spoon. We wondered what they were for. Then she returned with a towering bowl of mango smoothie. It looked like ice cream but was really the consistency of puree.

“That’s three mango smoothies?” Jess said. It was more than enough “smoothie” to fill a Big Gulp cup at a 7/11.  

“I bet she put them all in one,” Nate said. “That’s probably what the bowls are for.”

As our tower of mango started to fall,” Nate scooped off the top and put it into his ramekin. Jessica scooped off some, and I took a little more.

It tasted like someone had put mango in a blender. It was very smooth and very flavorful. I wouldn’t describe it as sweet—at least not sugary sweet—but it had a very fresh flavor to it.

After a few minutes, our waitress arrived with two more. Apparently, we ordered three mango smoothies and we got three mango smoothies. They were each massive and had to be about a pound of fruit. We stared at them and at each other. Our waitress laughed audibly and then walked away.

Our food started coming and it was all really good. The chicken was really flavorful, but every bite had a little chunk of bone in it. I know it was left in for the flavor, but it is getting a little old to eat everything off the bone. The duck was really crunchy but really good. I’m normally not a duck fan but—again, aside from the bones—this was probably the best duck I’ve had. I didn’t try the seafood fried rice. One of the shrimp dumplings I ate the other day gave me hives in my mouth so I think I am going to avoid seafood for now. The egg dish was kind of like a basil omelet and it tasted really good.

We wound up finishing all of the duck and all of the omelet. There was a little bit of rice left, as well as a few bites of chicken. We also polished off all three mango smoothies. It honestly tasted really good to have some fresh fruit.

Nate flagged down our waitress to get the bill. When she went to grab it, Jessica pointed at our ramekins and pretended to yell after her, “We finished it by the way!”

After we paid, we headed home. I thought back over my day. It was so nice having the blue sky out. For me, it was a nice reminder that no matter how hard things get, the blue sky always come. All I really have to do is wander and ask questions.

Rick Steve’s wrote in his books that “If you find a place frustrating, maybe you don’t know enough about it.” Hopefully my book can help me find out more so that I can see beyond the hard to find what I flew 5,000 miles to find. I want to make the most of every moment while I’m here so I can fully live each day of my adventure!