Another blistering day in the city, and my last traipsing around. I decided that I would end my time by visiting the temples that were fairly close to Claire’s home (close by taxi, that is).
The first place I went was the Jing An Temple, which cost only $10 kuai to enter (and with good reason). The temple is new and under construction. I would not recommend going there, not because it isn’t nice (and you can see by my pictures that it is), but because of the jackal that met me at the door.
Immediately after I paid for my ticket, I was greeted by a nice, soft-spoken man who said he was a temple guide. His English was pretty good, and he wore one of those official-looking tags around his neck. When he said I needn’t pay him to show me around (you usually have to pay extra for the service), I should have known right then what I was in for. I followed him to the right, and he took me into one of the rooms. Inside was the gift shop. I thought he would lead me there, but he took me up a lantern-decorated staircase instead. At the top, my eyes met the Good Stuff. Ascertaining that I was American, he immediately took me up to where, if I was as rich as he assumed I was, I could purchase some very nice paintings, solid gold Buddhas, exquisitely made porcelain Guan Yins, delicately carved wooden and jade nature scenes, and paraphernalia of all (expensive) kinds. He went to speak with the person who was apparently in charge of the floor and left me there in the quiet. I have to say that the attendant there was doing his attentive best to carefully explain certain items to me while I looked around. I only stayed a few minutes, just out of curiosity. When his back was turned, I made my escape back down the stairs and outdoors. I took a few pictures of the main courtyard and promptly left.
Across the street was the Jing An Park. More my style, with no snoopy “guides”. Again, I get to take an extremely hot walk in the park. However, I’m in luck because the parks in Shanghai are so pretty they’re worth the time.
The last stop of my day was to the Jade Buddha Temple. I have to thank the people who put the Lonely Planet Guide together because of their thoughtfulness in putting the Chinese translations of many of the must-see sights. It was very easy to hop into a taxi and just point to where I wanted to go and be taken there. The Jade Temple is off a very quiet side street visited by lots of bicyclers. There are also little tourist stalls on the other side of the entrance, selling all kinds of trinkets.
The temple was fantastic, so pretty and quiet! I spent quite a lot of time there. It was built during that tumultuous time between 1911 and 1918, when China’s imperial system came to an end. It’s listed as one of the small number of active Buddhist temples. I happened to walk by one room to see a group of monks sitting at a table and singing. The door was open for all to peer inside, but I didn’t linger, feeling like I was witnessing something very private. I also passed another little area that just had a plastic stool, a common thing in China. I walked in and it felt like being cut off from the rest of the world. The locked energy was like the air inside a cast ritual circle. Amazing!
Two main attractions here are the Jade Buddha, and the Room of 1,000 Buddhas. The room was upstairs in the back of the temple on the other side of the cafe. It was really powerful to walk into this room and see all of the little Buddhas, each in their own little niche in the wall, surrounding the room. While I was there, I happened to see a couple of guys doing some repairs there and polishing the Buddhas. Talk about spending the day dusting! Definitely a labor of love. Each wall was covered in these statues, and to stand in the middle of this big, empty room and spin around was incredible.
Back inside the temple proper, it cost 10 kuai to go upstairs to see the Jade Buddha. The story goes that a monk brought the statue all the way from Myanmar, then had to go begging for funds to build the temple around it. The Buddha itself is milk white, and covered in jewels. It’s also very far away from the path viewers take into the room. It sits way in the back, behind rows and rows of monks. Each monk sits at a table and has a set of books. They use a long stick to turn the pages of the ancient texts. The pages are folded in half and sewn into the bindings. You can see and smell the glue and ink they use when they find something that needs repair. The room is filled with the swift swishing of the turned pages. Oh, to be able to read!!! I wondered what these monks are thinking as we filed past, since none of them look up at the group. I suppose they are used to living in a fishbowl day in and day out? I have no pictures of this part of the temple, because pictures are not allowed. On the way downstairs, there is a wood carving of a Buddha with coins stuck all over for good luck. I couldn’t see how they’re sticking there, but it seemed interesting. Downstairs is another Buddha, this one in a reclining position, also milk white. I love the way the altars in Chinese temples are decorated. They are so beautiful!
After the temple, I walked three blocks to find food and water, returning to Claire’s in time for the arrival of Claire’s mother and son from Dalian. Claire came home early, and we went out to dinner. I slept with her mom on the bed, and Claire slept on the floor with her son. My final full day in Shanghai I stayed in the apartment and played with Claire’s son. He’s ten and very cute. I got the sense that he was also really bored, as his grandmother made him do a lot of homework, and they did not leave the apartment all day. Of course, neither did I, but I needed my sleep. I was SO tired!
I left on the train the next day (26 hours!!!). It was very easy to get to where I needed to be (from the taxi to the sleeping car), in spite of the fact that I spoke no Chinese. Claire bought me a top bunk in the hard sleeper, and I ended up negotiating a center bed, which took 3 Chinese men to help me into. LONG trip, I do not recommend that this be done alone. Luckily, I had my book, because the family that I was bunking with spoke no English with me until we were pulling into the station at Dalian.
