Guangxiao Si, the Bright Filial Piety Temple is one the oldest in Guangzhou, Guangdong Province’s capital. History places the first temple buildings on the site during the 4th century, before mighty Guangzhou was a city. The compound is significant because Hui Neng, of the Zen Buddhist sect, was a novice at the temple during the 7th century.
That’s what the guidebook says. Guangxiao Si has seen dynasties rise and fall, generations born, live and die, and one of the largest cities of the world spring up around its walls. Much of the temple was destroying during a 17th century fire and rebuilt. It remains timeless place of stillness and beauty.
Fragrant smoke hangs heavy over the grounds. Incense, purchased from the temple or the shops surrounding it, is placed before the Maltreya Buddha. space
Women say prayers and leave offerings at the West Iron Pagoda. The ritual continues as they walk around the four-sided iron structure, saying prayers facing north, east and south. Some circle the pagoda, fingers trailing over the cold surface, incense burning in the other. space
Chanting surrounds the Mahavira Hall. The faithful line its walls, texts in hand. space
A group gathers in front of the structure. Inside a master chants sacred words, his voice heard above the hundreds. space
Two monks retreat from the holy chaos for a moment’s respite. I watch them leave, and the assembled worshippers continue with rituals as their ancestors have for generations. space
We know roughly where we are, be it a city, region or country. We are on the earth, from that point of view we’re not lost at all. We have a place within the cosmos. I have been lost, literally and figuratively. Much of my time is now spent trying to get lost.
But you just asked if we’re ever really lost?
Who’s that? Shut up. Don’t interrupt.
As long as I know which way is north and I have a rudimentary map I can find what I’m looking for. Eventually. Knowing the compass points is key. When I first arrived at my digs in China I was confused. I had no idea where north was. It was good my faith (or total lack there of) didn’t involve facing Mecca. After discovering north, navigating my new world became easier.
New world? Are you Columbus? North? Oliver North?
Shut up.
I was lost, really lost, only once. On a cold, rainy October afternoon some friends and I went hiking. After reaching our destination, the remains of an old uranium mine, we started back. One friend decided on a short cut. His error in judgment led to hours of walking in the rain, wading through beaver ponds, and generally being miserable. It wasn’t a bad place to be lost, it was bordered on four sides by roads and the area was about 18 square kilometers. We would have been found before DNA was needed to identify our remains.
I learned lessons that day. Most involved stupidity, listening to others, and always carrying a compass. None of those have translated into my urban, Chinese, existence.
I stray from the path. A straight line between Point A and B is boring. There are too many alleys to explore along the way. I’m never really lost, I know what city I’m in and my approximate location on a map. I’ll never have to worry about resorting to cannibalism if lost in China as I would in the Canadian wilds. Many varieties of street food are widely available.
If I hadn’t had strayed from the path I never would have found Nui Xiang (translated: cow path) and the mailbox covered wall (above). Getting lost has advantages.
Teaching English in China is difficult in more ways than one. My popularity with the preteen girl crowd waxed and waned this past term, much to my chagrin. In December I wrote about feeling uncomfortable with the touchy-feely Grade 5 girls. I thought I wouldn’t teach them this term. I was wrong.
Coming early to class, crowding me in the hall, hanging on my arm: Extremely uncomfortable. If I was in Grade 5 I’d be in heaven. Alas, I’m a long, long way from the fifth grade. I’m probably closer to fifth grade in my next life than I am in this one.
The touchy-feely crowd was strangely absent for most of June. After I cracked the whip and changed their seats, six of them from the same homeroom, remarkably, became ill. The air conditioner was blamed. With the H1N1 hysteria running through the school, they were sent home.
A few came back the next week. When they discovered they had to write the test they missed their fevers suddenly returned. Adios, muchachas. Six girls from the same class – all sick with the same illness? An illness that prevents them from attending only my class? Strange, indeed. Some might say it was a conspiracy… I didn’t shed a tear, it was one less thing to worry about.
Tuesday was the last day of classes, and four of the six returned for the party. It was business as usual teaching English in China. It was only one day. I used big arm movements to create a buffer zone when they weren’t busy scarfing down chips and chocolates.
The biggest offender, let’s call her PMHKG (Prematurely Mature Hong Kong Girl), wasn’t at the party. She saw me the next afternoon as I left the campus. PMHKG charged and I hunched over in an attempt to ward off the incoming onslaught.
“Steve!” She called.
It was like a scene from a bad Korean Soap Opera (even the good ones are pretty bad). She hung on my arm as I eased towards the school gate. She looks about three years older than she is, standing a head taller than the other girls. She tried to explain her absence as we walked. A female teacher walked past and smiled. I cringed. It must have been a sight: Me with a preteen on my arm, her head on my shoulder. Ah, the live of a man teaching abroad.
I didn’t have time, the air conditioner repairman was due at my apartment. Trying to pull my arm free I discovered her grip was stronger than a bear trap. Gnawing off my arm would have taken too long and left an unsightly mess on the white tiles of the campus. With another pull I discovered the amazing lubricating qualities of perspiration. My addled mind formed a rudimentary plan. She tightened her grip, pouting.
Rice-fed Prematurely Mature Hong Kong Girls are strong. Because I sweat like a pig (and who doesn’t when it’s 110 degrees), with a mighty tug I was able to extricate myself from the crushing crush. A disappointed groan was uttered as I laughed and dashed for the gate.
My days as a big rock star are over. In his heyday David Cassidy had nothing on me. Now he’s on Broadway and I’ll be shooting photos professionally. Life is change.
I’ll miss PMHKG and her crew of touchy-feelys. As agonizing as our time together was I will remember them fondly.
Guidebook writers say Shenzhen, China is a pointless destination. It’s new, it’s gaudy, it has no soul or history. They are wrong. The city has been unfairly maligned. There is a lot to see and do in Shenzhen, China. In case you’re in the neighborhood, my list of 10 Must Sees in Shenzhen, China.
Shenzhen China at night.
Shenzhen City
Shenzhen is the third largest city in China, no small feat for a city only 30 years-old. What started as a fishing village of 30,000 has grown into a modern metropolis of 12 million. A city, with a population one-third of Canada’s: Tell me that’s not something you must see?
Visit the Diwang Building
The Diwang building in Shenzhen’s downtown is the ninth largest building in the world, and the largest steel skyscraper in China. Visitors can ride to the observation deck and look out over the city, Guangdong province, and on a clear day, Hong Kong. A night time visit offers stunning views of some of Asia’s newest and most creative buildings.
Shop in Dongmen
Near the Hong Kong border is Dongmen Shopping Street (East Gate), a mecca for shoppers. Clothes, housewares, electronics: Anything you can imagine can be bought at Dongmen in the Luohu District of Shenzhen. Hone your bargaining skills before hand, and haggle for the best deal while shopping in Shenzhen.
Fairy Lake Botanical Gardens
This huge park in east Shenzhen features walking trails, a petrified forest, and museum. Fairy Lake is also home to Hong Fa Temple, the largest Buddhist temple in Shenzhen. Another attraction is a tree planted by former Chinese leader Deng Xiao Ping. The late Chairman Deng, who conceived of Shenzhen and its special economic zone status, is revered in the city.
The prayer tree at the Tianhou Temple.
Tianhou Temple
Chiwan Village, part of western Shenzhen, features an ancient temple to Tianhou, (or Matsu) the Mother of Heaven, and goddess of fisherman. She is worshiped across Asia. The original temple was built in 1410 after the fleet of Admiral and Explorer Zheng He was caught in a typhoon in the South China Sea. The temple offers visitors a glimpse of Chinese religion and myth.
Royal Tomb
Nearby the Tianhou Temple in Chiwan is the tomb of the boy-emperor Song Shao, Last Emperor of the Southern Song Dynasty. He died when the Mongols chased the remnants of the Song court to China’s southern coast in 1279. A court official leaped into the sea with the boy, lest he be taken by the invaders.
Crane Lake Hakka Village
The Hakka were Northern Chinese, driven south by war. Their migration south started in the third century and lasted hundreds of years. They made their homes in walled communal villages in South China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. During the cold war the American military thought these villages (many round in shape) were missile silos. Crane Lake was the home of the Luo clan, and was completed in the 1800s. Visitors can see the partially restored buildings of the settlement, and learn more about the Hakka people and their culture.
Dapeng Fortress
Built during the Ming Dynasty, the Dapeng Fotresss once protected eastern Shenzhen and Hong Kong from Japanese pirates. In 1939 the British Navy, in an act that is considered the first of the Opium War, launched an attack. Chinese troops, in fishing boats, defeat the modern and better equipped navy. The old fort features the residence of General Lai, General Liu Qilong, and three temples. Dapeng Fortress is a piece of history, witnessing almost 600 years of tumultuous events.
Flowers for the Chinese Goddess Guanyin.
See Phoenix Mountain Temple and the Dragon King Temple
Very close to each other, these temples, are located in Shenzhen’s northwest. Legends say that sometime during the Tang Dynasty (618-907) a phoenix lived in a cave on a nearby mountain. During the Southern Song Dynasty a General walking in the area had a dream of Guanyin, the Goddess of mercy. She asked him to build a temple near the famous cave. The Buddhist temple is a popular site, attracting worshipers and tourists. Nearby is a temple to the Dragon King, famous in Chinese folk tales. The temple is small but extremely ornate. The area of the two temples has been developed into a large park with walking trails and green spaces
Visit Xinan Old Town – Nantou Ancient City
Shenzhen’s Nanshan District is the home of Xinan Old Town also called Nantou Ancient City, a former government county seat, dating to the Ming Dynasty. The area was first constructed in 331 and was designated a heritage site. Archeological digs at the ancient city have uncovered more than 3000 artifacts, now stored in a nearby museum. Some of the original city walls and gate, as well as ancient wells and buildings, and a temple to Chinese Hero Guan Gong, still remain.
Eat and Drink at Sea World
When you hear Seaworld, you think of Shamu and leaping dolphins. Not the case in Shenzhen. Sea World in the Shekou area is Shenzhen’s expatriate hangout. The centerpiece of the promenade is a former French cruise ship cemented into the ground, now being used as a hotel, and containing several restaurants and bars. The area also has international eateries, and offer visitors a chance to eat and drink something different than Chinese fare.
note: February 28 is my fourth anniversary of teaching English in China. At 8:25 am GMT +8, Feb. 28, 2005, I first walked into a Chinese classroom…
I didn’t sleep very well. I was still jet-lagged. Add to that I was in a new bed, in a new apartment, in a country I knew very little about. I went through my morning routine trying to come to grips with the strange shower configuration and attempting to shave in a nine-inch-square mirror. With bad instant coffee in my belly I waited for the knock on my door. It was February 28, 2005.
This was to be my first day of work as an oral ESL teacher at private school in Shenzhen (China). There was no training or school tour, I arrived a week later than the other new teachers. I was about to be launched, successfully or otherwise, on unsuspecting Chinese students.
Primary school students in China.
I sat at my desk with a growing sense of dread. I thought about vomiting but in the end managed to hold that bodily function in check. Forty students to teach for 40 minutes? I must have been mad. I decided that introducing myself would be the best course of action. I made some quick notes in a little notebook that became my best friend over the coming months.
I was late as I searched for grade 6, class 12 on the third and fourth floors of the north wing of building two. A teacher in the hall waved me in. After introductions she asked, “Would you like me to stay in the class?”
“Oh, no,” I replied like a seasoned pro, “I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. It must have been the nervous perspiration on my brow that gave my otherwise faux-confident persona away.
“Yes.”
I took a deep breath and walked into the class. There was a podium on a raised platform and a blackboard. I set down my bag and looked at the class. Forty young, smiling Asian faces stared at me. They were silent.
“Good morning.?!” I ventured.
“Good morning, teacher,” said the class in unison.
Shiny young faces with bodies clad in identical blue and white track suits. I was in over my head. Pressing ahead, I found a piece of chalk and with a shaky hand scrawled my name on the clean blackboard.
“My name is Steve,” I told them.
“Steve!” they called back at me.
“I am from Canada,” I said.
“Canada,” they replied en masse.
I learned next that sending the Chinese-English teacher out of the room had been a bad idea. Not only could she add some semblance of order to the proceedings, she could also translate if I ran into problems. After some explanation I had the students stand one by one and say, “My name is…, I am ____ years old.”
“How old am I?” I asked them.
I received a course of replies, most eight to 10 years younger than my actual age. I felt very young for a moment. A couple of jokers added their thoughts: My age was guessed by one student at 100 and by another at 1000.
Next was the phrase, “I like…”
“What do I like?” I asked the students. They were silent and stared at me. I looked around the room. No one moved a muscle, although every eye was fixated on me.
“I like,” I said, “Basketball.” I did my best charades impression of basketball and wrote it on the board.
“What else do I like?” I tried. A hesitant hand went up.
“Computer?” hesitantly asked a female student.
“Yes,” I said enthusiastically. “Computers.” I stressed the S.
“What else do I like?”
I took a couple of minutes to get the ball rolling, but in the end I had a din of voices shouting out all the sundry activities they new in English.
“Do you know what I like?” I asked again, “I like food.”
One boy in the front row said in a loud voice, “That is because you are fat.”
I tried not to laugh. He was right, of course. Again, they called out a list of foods that they thought I liked.
To wrap things up I had them each stand again and say, “I like…,” followed by a food, activity, etc.
Then the bell, which was not a bell at all, but a little musical ditty, sounded. It was over, I had survived 40 minutes relatively unscathed.
That class became my favourite. Of the 25 homerooms I visited each week, that class was the best and most receptive. The other varied from lukewarm to downright nasty. I didn’t have many rules. I drew the line when my worst class started playing volleyball with a rolled-up raincoat.
And so began a new life and career, in a nation that has only been really opened to outsiders for 25 year. There is a learning curve, but I think I have managed to make it over the first hurdle.
You could run, but you really couldn’t hide, could you? It was only a matter of time before you went somewhere we could find you. Hahahaaa. Who’s laughing now? Enjoy!
With love,
Snow
Snow, Baby, Snow
Yeah, it’s snowing. My trip to London is in doubt. The February 2009 London Snow Storm leaves my journey to the capital, and my return to China, in doubt. It isn’t even a lot of snow, but a few inches. But Brits aren’t hardy Canadians. ‘Nuff said.
I’ve done what any China-based Canadian Expat would do in a similar situation. At Tesco I bought foot-long hot dogs, buns, and beer (King Cobra, not regular Cobra Beer). I intend the sleep away the morning and hope my bus ticket for later this afternoon is usable. I don’t want to rebook, or change my hostel reservation.
I was lost, really lost, only once. On a cold, rainy October afternoon some friends and I went hiking. After reaching our destination, the remains of an old uranium mine, we started back. One friend decided on a short cut. His error in judgment led to hours of walking in the rain, wading through beaver ponds, and generally being miserable. It wasn’t a bad place to be lost, it was bordered on four sides by roads and the area was about 18 square kilometers. We would have been found before DNA was needed to identify our remains.
