I informed Eric several days ago that on this road trip through the USA he would play the part of my poodle. The reference I was making was to Steinbeck's novel "Travels with Charley" in which Steinbeck treks across the USA with his aristocratic and sophisticated French poodle. Eric was not amused; regardless of how sophisticated said poodle was. It took one night of camping out for me to realize that I who was in fact the poodle. The only thing necessary to convince me that I was more of a companion in the situation was Eric sending me to fetch a pile of wood and then proceeding to start a fire in a very rapid and Boy Scout-esk fashion (keep in mind that this was after he also erected our tent). Suffice to say I did manage to reap the joys of Smores which were cooked on that campfire. :)
I am also apparently not very adept at choosing good campgrounds. This was proved so when we drove into Clarksville, Indiana yesterday afternoon. I was at the wheel as Eric squinted at a Googlemap printout with directions to our supposed campsite. We soon found ourselves wandering around the most decrepit and run down area of Clarksville - the kind of area of town that makes you nervous if you hang out there past 7pm. There was nothing resembling a beautiful, natural campsite in sight. Almost by accident we stumbled upon a sign directing us to the camp area. We drove past "Derbey's Dinner Playhouse" with its flashing pink neon sign and dubiously entered the parking lot.
" There's some old dude looking at you." Eric said as we pulled up to the building (which featured a window through which this man was apparently having a good look). I went in to fix our reservation and was greeted by Earl. Pale blue eyes, bleached blonde hair, a diamond stud in his left ear, ranging in age from 55-65, and exuding an air of creepy self confidence.I will simply refer to the other character as "Mumbly" as the only thing I understood was an occasional "Bathroom...mumble, mumble, key, mumble, deposit, mumble." Then the fatal words "Earl...mumble,mumble, smoking, mumble." Apparently Earl was going on a smoke break and would be available to conveniently show us our campsite. He proceeded to lead us to a patch of grass surrounded as far as the eye can see by concrete on every side. Keeping in mind the rather shady neighborhood we had just driven through, I couldn't help but ask Earl an important question: "How safe is it around here?" I didn't expect him to say it wasn't, but also didn't expect him to launch into a descriptive analogy with some vague reference to Andy Griffith. He flicked the ashes from his cigarette looked me up and down AGAIN and then said: "Don't worry, we patrol this area at night all the time." I didn't have the heart to tell Earl that the idea of him creeping around my tent in the middle of the night 'patrolling' was scarier than the idea of some delinquent from the outside coming to murder me in my sleep.
Ah, but the night turned out to be uneventful (although not very resting) and what glorious sight should greet Eric and me when we stepped out of our tent early the next morning? None other than Earl on a 'patrol' on his bright yellow go cart, staring intensely at us as he puttered by with a half smoked cigarette dangling from his lips. We hightailed it out of there.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
You Know You're in Mexico When...
1. The immigration officer tries to get you to bribe him in order to get your visa 'taken care of'.
2. The military is waiting with their LAVs to do drug checks on the Mexican side - they make the American border patrol look about as fierce as a crate of puppies.
3. Driving anywhere at anytime becomes a near death experience.
4. You find 'Stop' signs hanging out in irrational places such as in front of stoplights and beside 'Yield' signs - and that's ok.
5. You find cheaper and much better food.
6. You don't have to fill up your own gas tank.
7. Suited up and masked super cop types patrolling the streets with semi-automatic weapons is normal.
8. Acknowledging people on the street (whether strangers or not) is not weird - and people don't look at you like you're an alien when you say hello.
9. People are afraid of your dog because she is larger than a chihuahua.
10. You don't need your ID for anything. :)
2. The military is waiting with their LAVs to do drug checks on the Mexican side - they make the American border patrol look about as fierce as a crate of puppies.
3. Driving anywhere at anytime becomes a near death experience.
4. You find 'Stop' signs hanging out in irrational places such as in front of stoplights and beside 'Yield' signs - and that's ok.
5. You find cheaper and much better food.
6. You don't have to fill up your own gas tank.
7. Suited up and masked super cop types patrolling the streets with semi-automatic weapons is normal.
8. Acknowledging people on the street (whether strangers or not) is not weird - and people don't look at you like you're an alien when you say hello.
9. People are afraid of your dog because she is larger than a chihuahua.
10. You don't need your ID for anything. :)
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Fear
I admit I bought into the whole fear aspect. For less than and hour, for the first time in my life, I was afraid to go back to the town I grew up in. It wasn't the mass e-mails sent out by my university warning students not to go to Mexico that caused this fear, it wasn't even the wide-eyed classmate who in hushed tones questioned my sanity at going to such a 'dangerous' place, it was the words written in bold and splashed accross the front of a newspaper page that ultimately marked my momentary hesitation. "18 killed in Culiacan!" it read. I panicked.
Fortunately I knew exactly who to call. And once he was able to pause for a breath of air after laughing hysterically at my question of "Is it safe?" my dad managed to gasp out "Of course it's safe!". My face burned with shame.
When I landed in Mazatlan a few days later, what I encountered was not at all what I expected. Apparently the newspapers had not even voiced the worst of it. People told me about the night club shooting where 4 died and 21 were wounded, the 4 men who were shot and then hung off an overpass, the restaurant that was shot up twice because the owner either couldn't or wouldn't pay safety / blackmail fees to the cartel, the 2 cartel members shot in broad daylight in the middle of the day in front of a big hotel on the main strip, and so on. But this was not at all what surprised me, I was astonished to hear the same people who expressed these terrible situations saying in almost the same breath "We are not afraid to be here.". And I was awed. Because at the end of the day the truth of the matter is that it is EXTREMELY unlikely that anyone I know could possibly get hurt because of this cartel situation. People killed are those who are involved in the cartel or are simply hanging out with the wrong crowd at the wrong time.
On my second day I had the privelage of going to see not only the 12th feeding center that has been sponsored by the Vineyard, but I was privelaged enough to stand on the ground that is destined to someday hold the 13th feeding center. And I realized that life has to go on. People continue living with the same issues, working for a living, and in general etching out a life. I nearly burst with pride at how lucky I was to be surrounded by so many fearless people who put aside their own worries and anxieties in order to continue to do great work.And most importantly, I find Mazatlan greatly unchanged. There are fewer tourists, but it is the same town that I loved in my younger years and that I now miss for whenever I am away;the same people who are loving and helpful and warm; the same laid back and relaxed approach to any issue that life brings our way. In essence, in my opinion the absolutely best place to be right now is defnitely Mazatlan. :)
Fortunately I knew exactly who to call. And once he was able to pause for a breath of air after laughing hysterically at my question of "Is it safe?" my dad managed to gasp out "Of course it's safe!". My face burned with shame.
When I landed in Mazatlan a few days later, what I encountered was not at all what I expected. Apparently the newspapers had not even voiced the worst of it. People told me about the night club shooting where 4 died and 21 were wounded, the 4 men who were shot and then hung off an overpass, the restaurant that was shot up twice because the owner either couldn't or wouldn't pay safety / blackmail fees to the cartel, the 2 cartel members shot in broad daylight in the middle of the day in front of a big hotel on the main strip, and so on. But this was not at all what surprised me, I was astonished to hear the same people who expressed these terrible situations saying in almost the same breath "We are not afraid to be here.". And I was awed. Because at the end of the day the truth of the matter is that it is EXTREMELY unlikely that anyone I know could possibly get hurt because of this cartel situation. People killed are those who are involved in the cartel or are simply hanging out with the wrong crowd at the wrong time.
On my second day I had the privelage of going to see not only the 12th feeding center that has been sponsored by the Vineyard, but I was privelaged enough to stand on the ground that is destined to someday hold the 13th feeding center. And I realized that life has to go on. People continue living with the same issues, working for a living, and in general etching out a life. I nearly burst with pride at how lucky I was to be surrounded by so many fearless people who put aside their own worries and anxieties in order to continue to do great work.And most importantly, I find Mazatlan greatly unchanged. There are fewer tourists, but it is the same town that I loved in my younger years and that I now miss for whenever I am away;the same people who are loving and helpful and warm; the same laid back and relaxed approach to any issue that life brings our way. In essence, in my opinion the absolutely best place to be right now is defnitely Mazatlan. :)
Friday, February 4, 2011
Snow Day in Texas
I always wondered what would happen if it snowed in South Texas. Despite having already lived through quite a few winters here, I thought the universe would never deign to answer this question for me....until today.
I woke up early in the morning and was groggily wandering about when I happened to look out my window. My jaw dropped. Everything was covered in a layer of white and although I had heard that it was going to snow I didn't know it would be so much! So I decided that I would brave the cold and go down to the university to see what people were out doing on a snow day.I slogged out to my car to try and brush the snow off of the windows. Apparently that takes a lot more skill than I possess, because the snow was sticking obstinately. So I slogged back to my apartment, filled a bucket with hot water, slogged back to the car, and half-heartedly poured it over the front windshield. Voila! It did manage to melt the snow despite leaving a crust of ice on the lower half. Good enough for me, I thought. Until I climbed in my car and realized that what I was left with was literally two holes to look through in the front, not to mention the back window and side windows were still crusted in stubborn snow - making visibility impossible. Northerners will mock me but I am a tropical girl at heart and really thought of this as a true dilemma.
OK, no driving then. I could walk. It was cold but not windy so I assumed I would survive just fine (and I figured that classes and work were cancelled for a reason - South Texans have no clue how to drive in the snow). I bundled up as if the Arctic north were awaiting me outside and set off. Then I noticed South Texans do not know how to walk in the snow - and also do not have shoes with proper traction for walking in the snow. People were slipping and sliding across the street, inching little by little in order not to fall. Of course, students were out early gathering the snow for snow fights, building tiny snowmen (not enough snow for normal sized snowmen), and generally in awe at the sight of Austin covered in snow. Having already gotten my fill of snow angels in Utah and Minnesota - as well as having been shoved into a 3 foot snow drift by my impish brother (where I proceeded to sink like a stone and flounder about until a friend kindly fished me out)- I wasn't up for playing in the snow.
I have thoroughly enjoyed seeing Austin in a different light. Being as this is possibly my last year here, I feel so fortunate to be able to have a winter that differs from previous ones. I finally got to see it snow in Texas :)!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
The Wild South
In my travels this Christmas season, I have to admit I was more worried about the TSA than about the drug cartel problems in Mexico. Would I get searched? Be forced to choose between the backscatter or being patted down? Apparently neither. I flew on eight different flights during the busiest time of the year and not a single time did I even so much as witness anyone being subjected to the backscatter or a search....and I'm not even sure if I should be relieved or worried about this (given that last year the 'underwear bomber' tried to blow up a plane during the Christmas season). What was the most extensive search I had to go through? It was actually in Mazatlan!
I flew in on a tiny 60 person jet to the place that I consider my hometown. As my dad tore through crazy traffic - refusing to yield or even stop at the stop signs (ahhhh I miss that Mexican way of driving :) )- he casually mentioned that 11 people had been shot in the outskirts of Mazatlan just the week before. This is nothing new, especially to a girl like myself who grew up hearing about shootouts at restaurants, watched the feds clean up after gun fights from the night before, and was told to never even look at the expensive cars we sometimes encountered as they were driving around downtown with windows so tinted it was impossible to see in anyways. But it was a bit different this time. That first day I walked to the beach and saw military helicopters flying overhead (this actually happened more than once during that week), on one walk later that week I came upon the feds standing on the beach holding their automatic weapons and instinct caused me to head in the other direction as fast as possible (no one wants to be in the wrong place at the wrong time), I even saw them downtown staking out a small taco stand IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY, and a friend of mine mentioned that she had heard gunshots in her neighborhood at 3 in the afternoon. I'm accustomed to witnessing the aftermath of these things the next morning but although I have seen the feds hanging around most of the time, I can't really remember a time when gun fights would happen in the daytime.This is a new Mazatlan to me but I understand why people stay and why my dad goes back again and again; Mexico is special, despite all her problems.
When I flew out all of my bags were opened and extensively searched....twice- I even saw one guy taking off his shoes so that the police could check inside. The only other place I have witnessed such extensive searches was in Manila when they searched me before I could get into the stores (and the searches to get on the plane were even worse!). And in both cases I felt safer flying out of a third world country than I did out of the USA where people complain about random and sporadic searches that are meant to keep us safe. And so this brings me in a full circle....I would rather be in wild Mexico where people understand that inadequate searches put us in danger as opposed to the USA where the seeds of discontent sprout up at the slightest inconvenience. And I really am a Mexican at heart.....give me Mazatlan any day,with or without the drug wars.
I flew in on a tiny 60 person jet to the place that I consider my hometown. As my dad tore through crazy traffic - refusing to yield or even stop at the stop signs (ahhhh I miss that Mexican way of driving :) )- he casually mentioned that 11 people had been shot in the outskirts of Mazatlan just the week before. This is nothing new, especially to a girl like myself who grew up hearing about shootouts at restaurants, watched the feds clean up after gun fights from the night before, and was told to never even look at the expensive cars we sometimes encountered as they were driving around downtown with windows so tinted it was impossible to see in anyways. But it was a bit different this time. That first day I walked to the beach and saw military helicopters flying overhead (this actually happened more than once during that week), on one walk later that week I came upon the feds standing on the beach holding their automatic weapons and instinct caused me to head in the other direction as fast as possible (no one wants to be in the wrong place at the wrong time), I even saw them downtown staking out a small taco stand IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY, and a friend of mine mentioned that she had heard gunshots in her neighborhood at 3 in the afternoon. I'm accustomed to witnessing the aftermath of these things the next morning but although I have seen the feds hanging around most of the time, I can't really remember a time when gun fights would happen in the daytime.This is a new Mazatlan to me but I understand why people stay and why my dad goes back again and again; Mexico is special, despite all her problems.
When I flew out all of my bags were opened and extensively searched....twice- I even saw one guy taking off his shoes so that the police could check inside. The only other place I have witnessed such extensive searches was in Manila when they searched me before I could get into the stores (and the searches to get on the plane were even worse!). And in both cases I felt safer flying out of a third world country than I did out of the USA where people complain about random and sporadic searches that are meant to keep us safe. And so this brings me in a full circle....I would rather be in wild Mexico where people understand that inadequate searches put us in danger as opposed to the USA where the seeds of discontent sprout up at the slightest inconvenience. And I really am a Mexican at heart.....give me Mazatlan any day,with or without the drug wars.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
UT Lockdown
Today the University of Texas was on lockdown for almost 4 hours. Although this was not such a serioius situation given the fact that there were no third person casualties, it was a surreal shock into the realization that "This could happen to us!". The shooter was a child - only 19 years old. I was in class when he ran down the street adjacent to our building firing shots into the air. He was carrying an AK-47 and wearing a ski mask which possibly marks his intention to do harm, however, he ended up on the 6th floor of the library and committed suicide. A man shot himself not a block away from where I was.
We first recieved alerts a little before 9am. Unsure of what to do, I foolishly walked to the stairwell and looked out the window. The campus was dead quiet except for the shouts of the police officers running back and forth signalling students back into buildings. By the time I went back to the classroom there were already alerts of a second suspect. "We should probably turn out the lights and lock the doors." was the general suggestion. There were two problems: we couldn't figure out how to get the doors locked, and although we shoved desks and chairs up against them, they opened outwards meaning anyone who came in would only be momentarily deterred by this. We sat against the wall in the dark classroom, knees pulled up to our chests waiting. At this point more alerts were coming in and we recieved messages saying that the second suspect was in the building next to ours - this building has a hallway that connects it to our building. I started shaking like a leaf, and texted my parents and brother repeatedly. We could hear the swat team taking over the building next door because we could hear the sound of dogs. Eric called me just a second later to ask how I was doing but the conversation was cut short as we heard noise out in the hall. Being cautious, I hung up the phone and we sat in dead silence with dread permeating the room. Suddenly we heard a man screaming: "Get on your knees! Get on your knees!" and realized that whoever it was, be it shooter or SWAT team, they were right outside our door. At that point I figured the best way of defending myself was to hold my backpack in front of my head so that if there was any shooting it might somewhat sheild me. When the door of our classroom flew open the first thing I saw out of the corner of my eye was the nozzle of a huge automatic rifle. I think in that moment everyone's heart dropped to their feet. For me my first thought was "It's the second shooter. I'm going to die.". The only reason why the majority of us (I later found out) made the same assumption that this was the shooter was b/c we assumed he would be carrying a similar weapon to that of the first suspect so we were on the look out for an AK-47. In this case it was two SWAT team members and they came in screaming "Put your hands on your face! Hands on your face! NOW!". I shoved my bag away and my hands went to my face. They closed themselves in with us and were checking through the windows to see if anyone was comeing. They were on high alert prepared for anything and they were shouting at us "Did you see anything? Did you see anyone?". I was frightened b/c I felt that maybe it was a sure thing that there was a second shooter. "No, no!" we told them. And then we begged them to lock us in b/c we couldn't get the doors locked. They left and made sure we were locked in the classroom. During this whole time we were listening to alarms and sirens going off, we had messages saying there were armored trucks on campus and helicopters were flying constantly overhead.
We sat on the floor for two and a half hours waiting. We had frequent reports about the second suspect but it was generally believed that they were being cautious and there was really only a single shooter. Finally, we were free to leave and the campus was evacuated. What a heartbreaking story for the young shooter. He was someone's son and he tragically took his own life. I think that given how the situation could have turned out, we were extremely lucky. I admit to being shaken up by this, even though I didn't witness any act of brutality. It was the sitting there, not knowing and not sure of what could really be going on that triggered this fear, in those moments you can't help but have thoughts about "What would happen if today is my last day?". My mom sent me text message after text message saying she loved me. I made sure I told my brother and parents that I loved them. I was probably never in any real danger, but I wanted to make sure I wouldn't leave any regrets at not having said it when it mattered.
So now tomorrow it's back to school for me. I may avoid the library for a while, and probably start sitting away from the doors of the classrooms, because if there is ever a next time I'm sure we won't be so lucky.
We first recieved alerts a little before 9am. Unsure of what to do, I foolishly walked to the stairwell and looked out the window. The campus was dead quiet except for the shouts of the police officers running back and forth signalling students back into buildings. By the time I went back to the classroom there were already alerts of a second suspect. "We should probably turn out the lights and lock the doors." was the general suggestion. There were two problems: we couldn't figure out how to get the doors locked, and although we shoved desks and chairs up against them, they opened outwards meaning anyone who came in would only be momentarily deterred by this. We sat against the wall in the dark classroom, knees pulled up to our chests waiting. At this point more alerts were coming in and we recieved messages saying that the second suspect was in the building next to ours - this building has a hallway that connects it to our building. I started shaking like a leaf, and texted my parents and brother repeatedly. We could hear the swat team taking over the building next door because we could hear the sound of dogs. Eric called me just a second later to ask how I was doing but the conversation was cut short as we heard noise out in the hall. Being cautious, I hung up the phone and we sat in dead silence with dread permeating the room. Suddenly we heard a man screaming: "Get on your knees! Get on your knees!" and realized that whoever it was, be it shooter or SWAT team, they were right outside our door. At that point I figured the best way of defending myself was to hold my backpack in front of my head so that if there was any shooting it might somewhat sheild me. When the door of our classroom flew open the first thing I saw out of the corner of my eye was the nozzle of a huge automatic rifle. I think in that moment everyone's heart dropped to their feet. For me my first thought was "It's the second shooter. I'm going to die.". The only reason why the majority of us (I later found out) made the same assumption that this was the shooter was b/c we assumed he would be carrying a similar weapon to that of the first suspect so we were on the look out for an AK-47. In this case it was two SWAT team members and they came in screaming "Put your hands on your face! Hands on your face! NOW!". I shoved my bag away and my hands went to my face. They closed themselves in with us and were checking through the windows to see if anyone was comeing. They were on high alert prepared for anything and they were shouting at us "Did you see anything? Did you see anyone?". I was frightened b/c I felt that maybe it was a sure thing that there was a second shooter. "No, no!" we told them. And then we begged them to lock us in b/c we couldn't get the doors locked. They left and made sure we were locked in the classroom. During this whole time we were listening to alarms and sirens going off, we had messages saying there were armored trucks on campus and helicopters were flying constantly overhead.
We sat on the floor for two and a half hours waiting. We had frequent reports about the second suspect but it was generally believed that they were being cautious and there was really only a single shooter. Finally, we were free to leave and the campus was evacuated. What a heartbreaking story for the young shooter. He was someone's son and he tragically took his own life. I think that given how the situation could have turned out, we were extremely lucky. I admit to being shaken up by this, even though I didn't witness any act of brutality. It was the sitting there, not knowing and not sure of what could really be going on that triggered this fear, in those moments you can't help but have thoughts about "What would happen if today is my last day?". My mom sent me text message after text message saying she loved me. I made sure I told my brother and parents that I loved them. I was probably never in any real danger, but I wanted to make sure I wouldn't leave any regrets at not having said it when it mattered.
So now tomorrow it's back to school for me. I may avoid the library for a while, and probably start sitting away from the doors of the classrooms, because if there is ever a next time I'm sure we won't be so lucky.
Friday, April 2, 2010
An Afternoon in the Temple
I recently spent an afternoon wandering through the largest temple here in Taipei. I was with a Taiwanese friend who attempted as best he could to answer my many questions. This temple was vastly different from the large one I visited in the Jiji area of central Taiwan. While that temple was a Buddhist one, this one was a Taoist temple. The differences were enormous. The Taoist temple is much more colorful, it has the traditional sloped Chinese roofs with colorfully painted dragons and other mythical creatures. On the walls outside were brightly painted pictures of stories and legends. The color alone was overwhelming, however, when I entered the temple I found a whole different world.
This temple had three levels to go to; I first went to the central level. What was happening seemed pretty typical of Asian culture: people were holding incense and bowing to different idols. There was fruit lying before the idols on tables. Apparently people bring the fruit so the gods can feast. It's okay to take the fruit home and eat it after the deities have had their full; however, some people claim that the fruit does not taste the same once it has been offered. The reason why there are so many different idols is because each one is for a specific need. I you wish to do well on exams - you pray to a certain one, if you wish to have children - another, and so on......This was only the front part of the temple.
Entering into a long tunnel, we were able to make our way towards the back of the temple. The tunnel had intricate stone carvings with some sort of story written in Chinese. There were little enclosures all along the way and in each one were sometimes fierce, sometimes kind, looking statues of different height and type. Some were men, some were women. My friend explained that these serve as bodyguards to the bigger god. They protect him from wayward ghosts. When we reached the end of the tunnel, we were greeted by a Yin and Yang symbol and on the other side, looking out to the river was a huge idol. Apparently he is the more important god that the bodyguards protect.
Next, we went to the upper level. The stairway was flanked on each side by two huge elephants - supposedly for good luck. There were also little dragon/lion guardians everywhere. These little guys supposedly eat evil spirits. the upper level led to and intricate and beautiful garden. With winding pathways and beautiful trees and flowers it seeded pretty peaceful, until I spotted a statue of a woman overlooking a waterfall. According to my friend, she watches over Taipei from her high perch. The gardens offered us a beautiful view to the river and was the best part of the visit (for me).
Lastly, we went to the lower level. At this point, I was starting to feel a bit stressed out. Being raised a Christian, many of these concepts are difficult, if not impossible to grasp. The downstairs took us down yet another long hall, this time the statues behind the glass were gods. If you needed money, these were the ones you prayed to. At the end was another huge statue. This time, he had a friendly face and was flanked on each side by fat Buddhas smiling widely. People came down the hall with incense in their hands bowing to each god along the way. When they finally reached the large one, they would stay a bit longer praying and then deposit their incense in this huge cauldron for the god to smell it and grant their wishes.
The temple was huge and definitely very impressive, however, the feeling I took away was how exhausting it all seemed. Like mentioned before, because I was not raised in this religious culture some of it is hard to understand. However, the impression I got was how complicated it would be to have to go to all these different gods for all the different things you need. I guess I'm spoiled in my belief of one God. It just seems so much simpler to be able to pray to one, instead of so many.
This temple had three levels to go to; I first went to the central level. What was happening seemed pretty typical of Asian culture: people were holding incense and bowing to different idols. There was fruit lying before the idols on tables. Apparently people bring the fruit so the gods can feast. It's okay to take the fruit home and eat it after the deities have had their full; however, some people claim that the fruit does not taste the same once it has been offered. The reason why there are so many different idols is because each one is for a specific need. I you wish to do well on exams - you pray to a certain one, if you wish to have children - another, and so on......This was only the front part of the temple.
Entering into a long tunnel, we were able to make our way towards the back of the temple. The tunnel had intricate stone carvings with some sort of story written in Chinese. There were little enclosures all along the way and in each one were sometimes fierce, sometimes kind, looking statues of different height and type. Some were men, some were women. My friend explained that these serve as bodyguards to the bigger god. They protect him from wayward ghosts. When we reached the end of the tunnel, we were greeted by a Yin and Yang symbol and on the other side, looking out to the river was a huge idol. Apparently he is the more important god that the bodyguards protect.
Next, we went to the upper level. The stairway was flanked on each side by two huge elephants - supposedly for good luck. There were also little dragon/lion guardians everywhere. These little guys supposedly eat evil spirits. the upper level led to and intricate and beautiful garden. With winding pathways and beautiful trees and flowers it seeded pretty peaceful, until I spotted a statue of a woman overlooking a waterfall. According to my friend, she watches over Taipei from her high perch. The gardens offered us a beautiful view to the river and was the best part of the visit (for me).
Lastly, we went to the lower level. At this point, I was starting to feel a bit stressed out. Being raised a Christian, many of these concepts are difficult, if not impossible to grasp. The downstairs took us down yet another long hall, this time the statues behind the glass were gods. If you needed money, these were the ones you prayed to. At the end was another huge statue. This time, he had a friendly face and was flanked on each side by fat Buddhas smiling widely. People came down the hall with incense in their hands bowing to each god along the way. When they finally reached the large one, they would stay a bit longer praying and then deposit their incense in this huge cauldron for the god to smell it and grant their wishes.
The temple was huge and definitely very impressive, however, the feeling I took away was how exhausting it all seemed. Like mentioned before, because I was not raised in this religious culture some of it is hard to understand. However, the impression I got was how complicated it would be to have to go to all these different gods for all the different things you need. I guess I'm spoiled in my belief of one God. It just seems so much simpler to be able to pray to one, instead of so many.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)