connie's space

ttp://www.csmonitor.com/2009/0318/p18s02-hfes.html

             Buddhism teaches that everyone may reach the perfected state and each person is a Bodhivisattva, or Buddha-to-be.  In Chinese tradition, the symbolic figure of Buddha is Kwan Yin, a female dispensing compassion with a thousand arms.  Every year, this religious entity has a special day dedicated directly to her.  For those in China, March 15th (Sunday) was the day. 

             Read below to see how Pure Spring Temple, our small Buddhist worship place along the Yangtze, celebrated this special day.

The Day Before Kwan Yin Day

            In the bright sunshine, our Kwan Yin Eve afternoon began. 

            Wa Yao Ba road filled  with sellers of joss sticks (a type of incense stick) and huge red candles in celebration of Kwan Yin.

             I along with Little Old (LF wasn’t in a mood to go out) carefully squeezed our way along the roadside to see what was going on at our little temple.   No sidewalks make this a hazardous task as buses, taxis, construction trucks and cars zoom by.

            My purpose was to take a look at the preparations everyone was making, getting ready for the next day’s crowds as those in Luzhou come out to worship.  The highest numbers would be arriving Sunday to pay respects on this special Buddhist day.  They’d fill this narrow roadway along the Yangtze with hundreds of  people and cars.  Our school gate entrance would be open for car parking to accommodate those who drove.

            On Saturday afternoon, the disabled beggars and fortune tellers (the older-looking, the more decrepit, the blinder, the better) had staked their spots leading down the stairwell to the temple.  There’d be more the next day, and thousands of visitors as well, but when you’re in business, “the early bird catches the worm” does ring true.

             Even on Saturday, a few managed to snag the the slim number of visitors present.

            Along the corridor route, our yearly squatters expect to get the most business, with sympathetic Chinese giving the poor a yuan or two and others looking to see what lies in their future.

            Little Old, with his missing teeth and dragging tongue, drew a lot of interest from those we passed. 

            “How cute!” we heard.
            “Foreigners like dogs,” one fortune teller said.

            Another, perhaps in her 90s, shoved a stool my way.

           “Sit down!” she encouraged.  “I’ll tell your fortune.”

            I smiled and shook my head.

            “How about the dog?” she eagerly suggested.

            Obviously it’s any ploy used for a buck, even among Buddhist spiritual readers.

            If LO, a bit nervous and frightened among strangers, had been more cooperative, I might have taken her up on it.

Good Luck Traditions Followed For Kwan Yin Day

            At the base of the stairwell, a huge character of happiness, “fu”,  is displayed on the wall. The custom at this temple is to stand several feet away, close your eyes and walk toward the character.  The objective is to land your hands directly on the fu.   Then you run their hands along the character’s strokes.  This will to bring you good luck.

            At the temple’s doorway, I watched a few giggling visitors rub their hands over the cement lions that guard either side.  Some were stuffing the mouths with money, another giver-of-luck tradition to those who do so.

            The day before Kwan Yin Day, there were only a few lit candles to commemorate our Buddha of Compassion.  But come Sunday, the place would be packed with those giving in to their Buddhist heritage, even though they don’t believe in it or openly practice it. 

Sunday:  Kwan Yin Day Arrives!

            How interesting that my Sunday morning was spent in our Luzhou church, worshiping with those of my faith, and my afternoon was taken up in the Buddhist temple, observing others taking part in their religious traditions.

            As I had thought, our Yangtze river road was overrun today with many Kwan Yin well-wishers making their way carefully to or from the temple.  They stopped to buy necessary items from those selling incense and candles. 

            The fruit stands were likewise doing a great business.  Offering fruit to the Buddha, even flowers, cans of beer or soft drinks, is a common practice.  These are placed on the altar in front of the many Buddhist figures throughout the temple.  When the altar is too cluttered with offerings, the volunteers carry them out to another area to make room for others’ gifts.
            Our beggars had increased, some displaying open wounds or shocking deformities which filled their begging bowls with sympathetic bills.  The fortune tellers and palm readers were likewise quite busy. 

            I wondered if the our elderly woman  from yesterday would be so willing to tell the dog’s fortune today. 

            With the amount of traffic coming and going, the amount of burning going on was  quite heavy.   

             In a huge concrete bin outside the temple, bundles of incense sticks and paper money were thrown into flames shooting upward.

            Inside the courtyards, the elderly volunteers were busy scooping out wax from the water basins where the candles dripped into.  The women were also responsible for discarding burned-down candles by carrying them away.  I was amazed at the strength of these ladies, some in their 80s, who hoisted buckets of worship waste down stairwells and into courtyards for disposal.

            Inside the temple, incense smoked and wound its way throughout every room.  The use of incense clears the air of evil spirits and represents concentration for those sending their prayers to Buddha. Beautiful flowers, a reminder of morality, lay amidst fruit, unopened coke cans on the altar as well.

            The Pure Spring Temple has numerous enclosed levels that climb up the river’s slope.  It’s a very small temple with small rooms but it’s still quite impressive from my viewpoint.   At every level, you can enter worship centers to visit the Buddha of your choice.  At the very top level, overlooking the Yangtze, is our Kwan Yin with her thousands arms spread behind her like a peacock’s feathers.

            Because so many candles are placed on her altar, many are moved outside during the day so it’s not too crowded.  These were carefully placed on the outside platform where visitors could use them to light new candles.

            Yet another level of the temple is where the nuns live.  It’s a small area as there are only 7 or 8 who are full-time servants of Buddha living here.  Their dormitories looked clean and tidy, a very peaceful place to live and work in dedication to your chosen faith.

Dinner is served!

            The highlight of coming here on Kwan Yin Day is that you get a home-cooked meal for just 3 yuan (44 cents), as much as you can eat.  The nuns and volunteers are all in charge of feeding lunch to the hundreds that pass through.  How they can feed so many is beyond me.  The cooking facilities are small but the prepared food just kept pouring out of the small window to the kitchen. 

            An adjacent courtyard was filled with families and others sitting at tables, shoveling in the many vegetarian dishes set before them.  Rice was plentiful and no one was going hungry on this day.

            For 44 cents, that was quite a bargain.

A Kwan Yin Surprise

            Just as I was getting ready to leave the temple, I heard someone call out from the crowds, “Connie!”

            Turning around, I couldn’t believe who it was.

            It was Erika, a Chinese high school English teacher who used to call me years ago to talk about her troubles.  One of our English teachers here at the college had introduced us when I first arrived in Luzhou and the friendship started from there.

            I hadn’t seen or spoken to Erika in almost 4 years.  She used to phone quite often with tales of woe about her teenage son.

             In Britain, we’d call him a “rotter.”

            He was in his late teens, had no desire to go to school, would play video games all night at local computer bars (stealing his mom’s money to do so), and was just plain mean  to his mom. 

            (“Ah, the teenage years,” I hear some of you parents sigh.)

            Erika was also divorced, which made things even harder for her as people labeled her as the divorcee. Yes, divorce in China is something that not many want to talk about or have happen.  It reflects upon the person, especially when children are involved.

              The son had grown up without a father.  Erika often blamed herself for his behavior, that he hadn’t had a male influence in his life and she had somehow failed him.  His father, too, wanted to have nothing to do with him.  There again caused for a troubled young teen, feeling abandoned even though his mother cared so much for him.

            The poor woman had no one to talk to so she’d call me.  Sometimes, she’d let out her frustrations for over an hour, not knowing what to do and feeling helpless. 

            The only thing I could do was listen and hope that my small action gave her some comfort, that another person (who wasn’t going to tattle to all her friends) cared.

            Then Erika stopped calling and we lost touch.  After being away a year in Chengdu, I returned to Luzhou where I tried to contact her but the telephone number was disconnected.  Thus her name just stayed forlornly on my telephone list among others who have long since gone from my life.

            But here we were on Kwan Yin Day, reunited at the temple’s doorway between two cement lions which, I might add, I had just rubbed for good luck not more than 20 minutes before.

            There were squeals of surprise and exchanges of greetings from both of us.

             I was happy to learn her son, now 21, was in Xinjiang Province working in the oil fields.  It was a steady job and brought him more money than her teaching job. From what I gathered, after his rebellious teenage years were behind him, he had become a better son and one who sent money home to his mom every month.  He also called often to check up on her and keep her updated on life from his end.

            Erika and I quickly made sure we had one another’s telephone numbers.  We were definitely not losing touch again.

            Eventually, the two of us made our way to Wa Yao Ba Road, where I saw Erika onto the city bus for her ride back home.  She stood at the window, waving and smiling as it drove away.  I did the same from the roadside, as dust and grit swirled up around me, before heading back to my apartment where lesson planning awaited me.

In Closing for the Day

             What a fascinating and fortuitous Sunday it had been!  

            One does wonder if Kwan Yin is smiling at this Christian who visits the Buddhist temple for the afternoon and is then reunited with a very dear friend.

I know God must be, as I’m certain He put me right there in the place that was needed for a surprising blessing to occur.

            From along the Yangtze River, here’s hoping your 3^rd Sunday of Lent was just as wonderful as mine.

            Ping An! (Peace)

A Quick Trip to Chengdu     

            It was a fast trip to Chengdu, the fastest I’ve had in a long time:  Up one night (Tuesday) and back the next afternoon (Wednesday).

            The only thing that wasn’t fast about it was the road construction.  The Sichuan express highway was built 8 years ago and now takes us directly to Chengdu in 3 ½ hours, instead of the previous 8 to 9 hours of weaving through mountainsides on narrow roads and through tiny towns.  But the amount of traffic has led to numerous repairs, meaning many times we have one lane open instead of four as workers try to mend the bumps, deep grooves and holes caused by so much heavy road use.  One side waits 30 minutes or longer for a turn while the other side crawls slowly by.  The back-up is incredible! 

            For myself, after finishing up classes last Tuesday, I took the last bus to Chengdu at 5:20 p.m. and didn’t arrive until nearly 11 p.m. due to delays.  We passengers were all getting quite antsy toward the end, especially after our 1 ½ hours waiting time to move even an inch. 

            The miles of cars, buses and trucks awaiting their turn to squeeze through the open lane stopped full. 

            Hundreds of male smokers got off to enjoy their cigarettes.  You could see rows of their red lit butts from a distance in the darkness.

             Women and children disappeared off into the nearby fields to relieve themselves.  Several private car drivers stepped outside to chat with one another in the chilly night air.

            I’d have had LF out there for a walk if she’d been with me but this trip was one where I left her behind.

            On this trip, Xiao Lao-lao (Little Old) would be coming to Luzhou.

Xiao Lao-lao (Little Old) Comes to Luzhou

            For 3 weeks, I’d been searching for a home for our toothless little guy.

             I’d asked my Chengdu neighbors from my old apartment complex, even parading LO (Little Old) around as a pity poster dog for everyone to see. Would anyone like a sweet Chihuahua like this one, healthy and ready to go?

            No takers.

            I  posted videos on Chinese and U.S. sites of Little Old’s plight, and  included my name and number.

            No takers.

            I’ve been in constant email contact with the Chengdu Economic Daily reporter, Mr. Wu, who has been likewise helping me ask others for a home for LO.

            No luck.

            After 3 weekends of visits from me at Dr. Q’s animal hospital, and after 3 weeks of being  shut up in a cage, Little Old needed some kind of happy place to hang out.

            Where else but with me in Luzhou?
            Thus on Wednesday morning, LO received her second round of vaccinations from Dr. Q (we have 2 more to go in the next month), was placed into a new carrier and off we went far to the south to his new home.

Little Brother at Home with Big Sister

            I must say, I did have reservations about the greeting Little Old, a younger, male Chihuahua, would get from Little Flower, a very strong Alpha dog personality.  LO had visited (without incident) my Chengdu hotel room several times with my dog there but this situation was more of  an invasion of a territorial home. 

            Would there be a problem?
            Well, it seems I had nothing to worry about.

            Little Flower basically just ignores Little Old even though Little Old would like some contact time.        

           He’s already explored everything in the apartment.  He has his place on one side of the heater while LF has her place on the other. They each have their own feeding stations and their own bedding places but as far as home rule is concerned, that’s definitely Little Flower.  She’s already made known by a snap that her toys are off limits, although Little Old isn’t exactly sure what a toy is or what you do with it.  He hasn’t had too much experience with playtime.

“No, That’s Not Xiao Hua (Little Flower)”  

            The dogs’ best interaction time is on walks, where LO happily follows his big sister around everywhere. 

            Our first day out was on Thursday, a gorgeously warm 70 degrees after we’d been in the cold, overcast 50s for over a week. The campus was abuzz with the fact that the foreign teacher suddenly has two dogs, not one, although I did make announcements to everyone that Little Old needs a home and wasn’t permanently staying with me. 

            Interestingly enough, there was  confusion about which dog was which.

             Some thought Little Old was Little Flower.  How that could happen was beyond me.  LF is a good deal taller, beautiful dazzling coat, strong straight legs and a female.  

            Little Old is a short, squat  thing with bow legs, tongue lolling out due to no jaw or lower teeth, stained fur from outside living and a prominent  difference in anatomy I have no idea how anyone could miss.

            But Chinese, I have found, aren’t too used to looking at details so there you go.

A Lover All The Way:  Entertaining Those On The Sports Field

            One thing that endears everyone to Little Old is that fact he’s such a lover.  He’ll sidle up to anyone for a belly rub, his little body curled up in a submissive manner for a pet.

            The Thursday we spent on the sports’ field proved him to be just such a loving creature among those hanging out on the grass, enjoying the sun.

            A happy group of students from Qing Hai University (our branch school) were quite taken by LO.   One dog-lover picked him up and cradled him in her arms while her classmates gathered around to pet him.  LO closed his eyes, almost drifting off to sleep.

            LF, on the other hand, was ready for playtime.  She brandished her Frisbee, shaking it with such fervor that a majority  wanted to have nothing to do with her.  She can sound quite ferocious and aggressive when it comes to play.  I could fully understand why they’d much rather extend their attention toward a gentle, sweet, quiet little dog than an overly hyper one   

            Such a sunny day had also brought out numerous couples to the field. They were wrapped in each other’s arms or stretched out on the grass. The boys rested their heads in the laps of their girlfriends who gently stroked their hair.  The boys softly pulled tufts of hair away from their girlfriends’ faces to reveal shy smiles.  Heads pressed together in whispers of secret thoughts and feelings.

            These kind of open displays used to be forbidden at our school 7 years ago.  The guards would go around and pull the students apart, chastising them or writing up their names to be turned in to their head teachers for discipline. 

            Our school leaders and school rules specifically told the students no male-female relationships were permitted on the campus.  None would be tolerated and if caught, you’d suffer the consequences of full humiliating criticism.

            Needless to say, it was pretty much a joke among everyone, even the teachers and guards.   No one listened much and let things slide, although the students were careful about getting caught.

            But now that China has opened more to the outside world, with Net access and movies from around the world, social and cultural customs among young people have changed.  Whereas sex and love were secretive topics, and absolutely “no-no”s among students of any age in China, it’s now becoming popular.  Relationship newspaper columns and Internet hotlines now are the rage, giving advice to the young and old how to handle their affections.  In public,   holding hands, touching, kissing (although still not too commonly seen in the open), and hugging are seen and done without reprimand anymore.

            Thus on the sports field during nice days, or on beautiful star-filled evenings, you’ll come across the young people out for a lovers’ romantic moment.

            No one interrupts these private moments.  We all just pass by the boyfriend-girlfriend pairs without a second thought, but when it comes to Little Old, couples on the grass seem to be up for grabs.   

            Last Thursday, our toothless guy visited every couple for a pet and rub.

            Very gently, hands caressed the little dog who flopped on the grass next to them.  His tongue fell to the side.  His eyes closed.  He was obviously in doggie heaven.

            One does wonder what kind of sad life he had before.  Thank goodness that’s over with, . . . for now, anyway.

The Search for A Luzhou Home

            While Chengdu didn’t prove too great a place for finding LO a home, Luzhou is becoming a bit more promising.

             Already, I have the elderly couple downstairs who are considering LO as a family member for their grandson.  The little boy is about 9 years old and is a very special Chinese child in that he’s not spoiled.  He respectfully talks to me often and is just a sweet, well-behaved, well-mannered kid.  His visits to Grandma and Grandpa are every other weekend.  Sometimes, he spends the week with them and they see him off to school.

             His eyes lit up when I said LO had no home and was needing a place to live.  

            “Do you want a dog?” Grandma asked him and he nodded his head enthusiastically.

            “Better ask your mom first,” I suggested and we left it at that.

            There are 2 more families as well who are interested.  One has a connection with Ci-ci, who is an English teacher here at my college.  Ci-ci’s boyfriend’s mother has been by herself for several years after her husband died. Cici believes that the mother might like a little dog to keep her company.  

            And another possible family is the vice-dean of my department, Marty Li.  His wife has seen pictures of LO on the Internet, read his story and seen his video, and feels he might make a good pet for them.  

            In all cases, LO and his possible adoptees will have to wait a bit because all his vaccinations are not yet completed.  He has two more to go, which will all be finished by April 6.  Because his immune system is not yet protected against such diseases as distemper or parvovirus, which are common killers among pets in China, I’d rather keep him with me to make 100% sure he’s ready to handle the dog ownership world.

            Until then, I’m sure there will be more updates on Xiao Lao-lao (Little Old) and his foster care with me in future blogs.

            Here’s wishing you Ping An (peace) for your week, everyone!  Have a great Sunday.

A Robbie Burns Supper at the Bookworm

            One of my favorite poets has always been the great Scotsman, national poet of Scotland Robert Burns (1759 – 1796).  My mother would read me these as I grew up. Our favorites included  “To a Louse” (‘O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us/To see oursels as others see us’) and “To A Mouse” (‘‘The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft agley’ , or in English as ‘The best-laid plans of mice and men / Go often wrong/ Go oft’ astray).

            Even if you’ve heard nothing much of Burns’ work,  “Auld Lang Syne,” the words written by Burns himself , I’m sure is something you’re all quite familiar with.  Even in China, this famous New Year’s song  is sung with the words translated into Chinese.

             My students may not know who Robert Burns is, but they definitely know the “Auld Lang Syne” melody.

            Sure, I know of Robert Burns but when I came across the announcement of a  “Robbie Burns Supper,” that was a mystery.

            When in Chengdu two weeks ago, I had mentioned in a previous blog about The Bookworm.  It’s a foreigner’s café-restaurant of sorts with shelves of used books lining the walls.  The books number in the thousands and are there for everyone’s pleasure in reading or enjoying.

             The Bookworm also has many activities for patrons, including visiting author lectures, famous people meet-and-greets (I was privileged to meet environmentalist Jane Goodall there last year), activities for children, special music nights and so forth.

            Jalin and I had been in the Bookworm the week before I returned to Luzhou.  We were cruising over the U.S. fashion magazines when I noticed a flyer for a Robbie Burns Supper on Saturday night.  The supper was thrown in honor of the poet, Robert Burns, and we were invited to take part in a 7-course meal, meet some Scots and enjoy hearing about the life and times of Robbie.

            For 150 yuan per person ($18), seemed a bargain to me. 

            And since I wasn’t about to go by myself, I invited Jalin to come along with me if her parents approved.

            A night out for the girls!  What fun!

What is a Robbie Burns Supper?

            I had not a clue what this was about so I looked it up on the Internet. 

            According to what I found, a Burns Supper is a celebration of the life and poetry of Robert Burns. These suppers are normally held on or near the poet’s birthday, January 25, sometimes also known as Robert Burns Day or Burns Night, although they may in principle be held at any time of the year.

            Burns suppers are most common in Scotland, but they occur wherever there are Burns Clubs, Scottish Societies, expatriate Scots, or lovers of Burns’ poetry.

            In our case, the Scots in the area of Chengdu (mostly businessmen) had decided to throw this shindig for fun.  They had tried last year but due to conflicts in their schedules, they were unable to. 

            Due to Robert Burns’ great love for the ladies and quite lustful, amorous rovings during his short lifetime, they chose Valentine’s Day (February 14) as an appropriate night to honor our poet.

             I furthermore learned these suppers may be formal or informal but they should always be entertaining. The only items which the informal suppers have in common are haggis, Scotch whiskey and perhaps a poem or ten.  (Haggis, by the way, is a traditional Scottish dish consisting of a mixture of the minced heart, lungs, and liver of a sheep or calf mixed with suet, onions, oatmeal, and seasonings and boiled in the stomach of the slaughtered animal. Yum-yum!!)

            Whether formal or not, the suppers follow a standard format:

1)      Host’s welcome

2)      The Selkirk Grace

                                    Some hae meat and canna eat,

                                    And some wad eat that want it;

                                    But we hae meat, and we can eat,

                                    Sae let the Lord be thankit.

3)      Entrance of the haggis (all stand, applaud, and eventually toast the haggis)

4)      Start of the dinner

5)      Numerous speeches and toasts, including readings of Robert Burns, a toast to the lassies and a toast to the lads.

6)      Dancing, songs and closing

Jalin and Connie’s Robbie Burns Supper Night Out

            Jalin and I excitedly headed off to the Bookworm from her home at 6:30 p.m., February 14th.

             In the crisp evening night air, we walked the 20 minutes to our destination and entered a very cozy atmosphere.  Half of the café was cordoned off for guests of Burns, the beautifully set tables ablaze in plaid to honor the Scots.  We mingled with a few in kilts, our gentlemen hosts and one bonnie lass, before it was finally time to find a place to sit for the night’s festivities.  And what a night it was! 

            Below, find our grand photo album of fun from The Bookworm and Chengdu’s very first Robbie Burns Supper.   

            From China, here’s sending you an opening week’s Ping An (peace)!