Cloudy in Beijing Blogging about my time in China

Temple O’Rama

I know very little about Buddhism. Reincarnation and vegetarianism are what come to mind. And I myself am not a very religious person.

But today I decided to leave Xi'an, and travel 70 miles west to Famen Temple, a very famous Buddhist shrine. The views of these ancient grounds alone were worth it.

Being a place of worship for around 1,500 years, the temple naturally had a lot of praying and burning of Chinese incense. I just stood by and watched as visiting people came and knelt before the various statutes. Even though I've seen such praying before, its still a very foreign act to me.

I haven't yet been to a temple in China that was free. Going to this one cost about $4. Local monks, clad in modest robs, manned a few of the ticket counters. One monk in particular got angry, expressing a peeved scowl, as visitors snapped photos in an area where they were told not to. Just half a mile away from the temple is this Buddhist monument, the size of a building. Each four sides of the statute displays a face. Visitors can even walk all the way up to its head via a spiraling staircase inside.

"Come make a prayer," an old woman told me after I entered the place. The old woman had dyed her hair violet of all things. I said to myself "why not", buying three red sticks of incense for 80 cents. "I'm Chinese-American," I said to her.

"You know, China isn't afraid of America," the old woman interrupted me as I tried to make a prayer. "They have the atomic bomb, we have the atomic bomb."

"Uh huh," I nodded with a smile, trying to be polite.

"Even since 1950, with Mao Ze Dong, China wasn't afraid of America," she added matter of factly. "China isn't afraid of America."

"Yea..." I mumbled as I held my three incense sticks.

Well, this was off topic, I thought to myself. I nodded again to the woman, hoping she would stop her rant. Then I awkwardly made a prayer in front of the buddhist monument, having no idea to what I was doing. "Peace on Earth" I said in Chinese, though in retrospect, I messed up the words.

Famen Temple is located in Fufeng county, a rural area. I took this shot from the top of the Buddhist monument. In the center you can see temple's pagoda, and to the left, you can see the faint view of what I mentally refer to as "The Stargate."

The actual name of it is ?????, and means: "put the palms together relic pagoda." Not the smoothest sounding name when said in English, but as you can the tower is shaped like two hands pressed together in prayer. I was told by a local person that it'd be done in May. As for now, only construction workers were allowed to approach it. To me, the pagoda seems more like it belongs in a science-fiction movie. Or at Las Vegas.

While there, I also shuffled my way through a vast street market festering with local people. A few merchants sold these giant Chinese cakes, cleaving off a slice to any buyer. Most people here seem to eat in the market, where food is cheap. Some people squat down on small stools, and eat outside on foldable tables, crowded around by other customers.

During lunch time I found myself comfortably eating alone in a clean, but vacant restaurant, paying for a meal that would have lasted me a few days if I had chosen to dine in the market's local shops. Choosing to go with the restaurant owner's recommendation, I had myself two of the greenest and most leafiest dishes I've ever had. Made me feel like an herbivore.

There were other sights in the market as well: a goat being pulled along by its owner; street side fortune tellers with no customers; young people playing billiards on pool tables outside; a man selling live turtles. (For pets, or for food, I don't know; me thinks, and hopes, its the former).

I also had a chance to walk around in the local town. Most of the buildings were made out of brick and painted yellow. Government signs, like the one above in the picture, were also posted on the power poles. This one says: "Whether it's a boy or a girl, they are both the same. Of the most importance is population quality."

Especially in more traditional areas of China, boys are valued over girls. Males can continue the family name, and also support their parents in old age. Girls, however, are married off to another family. The Chinese government has been trying to change people's thinking about this, seeking to offset any population imbalances.

But tradition, and the practical nature of it, continues to persist. The New York Times recently had an article about people kidnapping young boys and selling them to the countryside where they are needed. Another government sign here said: "Purge the old customs. Build a new farming community."

Things are noticeably greener in this farming town. But also noticebly poorer. While at a small supermarket here, I noticed a young man, maybe a teenager, as he received his change from the cash register. Rather than simply taking his money, he inspected every bill, unfolding each one with the sound of a flap, and holding them up in the air, into the light.

Outside one of the temple walls, a thick strip of black ash had piled up. Local people were burning paper and fake money to honor their ancestors. From what I could tell, on the faded green paper they burnt, I often saw people write the names of relatives who had passed away. I probably should have burnt some as well. I'll have to do it another time.