Three Favourite Taoist (or Daoist Temples): Hong Kong, Huizhou and Qingyan

Daoist Temples in Hong Kong and Southern China

A Little About Daoism and the Transliteration of Chinese Characters

The Bagua used to explain Dao

Taoism/Daoism is not an easy religion for a westerner - most specifically this westerner - to get their heads round. The opening of the Tao Te Ching/Dao De Jing, Taoism/Daoism's key text: The Tao/Dao that can be expressed is not the true Tao/Dao, is not designed to be helpful

But before failing to express it, you should decide how to spell the Tao/Dao. In Chinese it is 道, which means way or path (to which English happily adds –ist or -ism), but how do you render 道 in Latin lettering?

There are, or were, two main transliteration systems. Wade-Giles, developed in the 19th century and the most widely used until the 1970s, gave us ‘Peking’ and ‘Mao Tse Tung’. Pinyin, developed in China in the 1950s prefers ‘Beijing’ and ‘Mao Zedong’. Pinyin is used throughout China (conveniently for western travellers all street names, road signs, metro stations etc., etc. display their names in pinyin as well as Chinese characters). Pinyin is a better approximation to standard mandarin pronunciation and has now been almost universally adopted. Almost, but not quite. A tourist in 北京 (Beijing) can still eat Peking duck, drink Tsingtao Beer and visit a Taoist Temple. In pinyin that would be Beijing duck, Qingdao Beer and Daoist Temple.

Once a spelling has been chosen you then have to consider the distinction between philosophical Daoism (Pinyin is the only realistic choice) and religious Daoism. Some argue that they are not even related, they just happen to have the same name, others that the religion grew from the philosophy.

Philosophical Daoism was developed during the Han Dynasty (206 BC - 220 AD) and is concerned with the individual’s position in the natural order. It emphasises the ‘Three Jewels’, compassion, moderation and humility. Religious Daoism arose some 700 years later probably from a melding of Chinese folk religion with Daoist philosophy. To add further complications, Daoism has no organisational hierarchy, although the same cannot be said of the gods; the Daoist pantheon mirrors the Imperial Chinese bureaucracy, with gods being promoted or demoted on the basis of performance.

Wong Tai Sin Temple, Hong Kong
Visited July 2004

Daoism is Hong Kong's main religion. Temples to Tin Hau, the goddess of the sea, are ubiquitous, but Hong Kong’s biggest temple is dedicated to Wong Tai Sin, a mythical shepherd boy whose job it is to cure illness and bring good fortune.

Wong Tai Sin Temple, Hong Kong

Built in 1973 the temple is probably the least spiritual religious building we have ever visited. Hong Kong is a relentlessly materialistic society and worshipping Wong Tai Sin is just another commercial transaction. The devotees buy some incense sticks and dutifully bow their heads, and in return Wong Tai Sin sorts out whatever needs sorting out - like ensuring good luck for gamblers. Devotions over, temple goers scurry off to shake a pot of bamboo prediction sticks or consult the fortune tellers, whose booths - over a hundred of them - surround the temple.

Devotees at Wong Tai Sin, Hong Kong

A Muslim Uighur we met in Xinjiang (China’s westernmost province and in theory the Uighurs’ Autonomous Region) said, rather contemptuously of his Chinese neighbours (and rulers) ‘They have no religion, only superstition.’ While that might be unfair of the Chinese as a whole, Wong Tie Sin would seem to support his contention. On the other hand there is nothing sanctimonious about the worshippers, and there is a complete lack of hypocrisy. For that reason - and for its optimism and vivacity, I liked the place.

Nine Dragon Wall, Wong Tai Sin

Our 2004 visit to Hong Kong (including Won Tai Sin) and 2005 visit were pre-blog. A three day visit in 2010 is covered in one lengthy post. Our week long 2016 visit spawned seven post (including two Macau posts) and starts here.

Daoist Temple, Huizhou, Guangdong Province
Visited July 2004 and 2005

Huizhou is an unremarkable city in the People’s Republic, some 100 km northeast of Hong Kong. It was here our daughter Siân spent 18 months teaching English, and it was visiting her in Huizhou that sparked our interest in China. Now, seven years later, we have visited the country five times. [update: and again in 2013 and 2016. I do not like Presedent Xi, particularly his attitudes to Hong Kong and the Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous region, we will not visit again until he has gone - so probably no more visits.]

For links to all 75 of my posts labelled China, Hong Kong, Macau or North Korea (and descriptions of some) see my China and North Korea Page.

I generally find Buddhist temples to have a serene and spiritual quality, but I am much less comfortable with Daoism. Siân, on the other hand, complains that, in Huizhou at least, the only contact she had with Buddhists was as persistent and even aggressive chuggers.

Daoist Temple, West Lake, Huzhou

To escape the crowds, which are ever-present in heavily populated Guangdong, she would retreat to the park, the small entrance fee sufficient to provide some peace. The Daoist Temple stands on the edge of the park. ‘I really liked [it]’ she said ‘because it wasn't special, or glitzy (well, enormous gilded statues not withstanding), but... like a church, it had atmosphere….. I always used it in visualisations when you have to choose a place you feel relaxed in when learning to meditate in preparation for childbirth.’ No one would say that of Wong Tai Sin.

Qingyan Daoist Temple, Guizhou Province
Visited Nov 2010

Qingyan walled city

Huizhou may be unremarkable, but the same cannot be said of Qingyan, just south of Guiyang, the capital of Guizhou province in southwest China. Since the 1970s China has become interested at looking after (sometimes over-restoring or even faking) its ancient monuments, but there are fewer examples of preserved vernacular architecture. Qingyan is an artfully pickled Qing Dynasty (1644 – 1911) walled city.

Qingyan Daoist Temple

The Buddhist temple is quiet and serene, the nearby Daoist temple is bustling and busy. The many temple attendants, in all-black uniform, wandered around, always present, always doing something but not apparently interested in us – like shop assistants in Dixon’s.

Raised stage, Qingyan Daoist Temple

What cannot be denied is that with its incense and urns, with its raised stage and surrounding carvings, the place has some style.

Detail of Carvings, Qingyan Daoist Temple

Links and descriptions to all posts primarily about religious buildings can be found on my Temples, Churches, Mosques, Synagogues and More Page.

Huizhou

With our fifth trip to China imminent, it seems an appropriate moment to write a paragraph or two about Huizhou, the city that started it all. Huizhou is pronounced 'way-jo'; pedants and scholars might care that the first syllable is second (rising) tone while the 'jo' is third (falling-rising). My inability to cope with tones doubtless accounts for the incomprehension that greets any attempt to deploy my very limited Mandarin vocabulary.

The Xiapu district of Huizhou.
Siân & James lived on the nth floor of one of these blocks

Huizhou has less than a handful of sites to attract tourists. Although it is hardly remote, 160 km east of Guangzhou and 60 km north east of Hong Kong, few foreigners ever visit; perhaps that is the best reason for going there. If you want to watch the Chinese going about their business undistorted by the mirror of mass tourism, then Huizhou is the place to go. If you want to see the Chinese economic miracle in a small city on the edge of the Special Economic Zone, then there is no better place than Huizhou. If you want to relax somewhere inexpensive surrounded by lakes and parks, then I recommend Huizhou.


Ren Ren Le, Huizhou's main supermarket

A city of 500 000 people is only a dot on the map by Chinese standards, though Huizhou is the capital of a prefecture of several million. Looking south and west from the upper floors of the Noble Jasper Hotel, it is possible to see the steep, wooded hills that mark the city’s edge. In other directions, the urban sprawl of Guangdong Province is more persistent.

Huizhou

Sitting on the confluence of two rivers and wrapped around two lakes, Huizhou is a city of water. Strolling round Nan Hu (South Lake) you can watch old men playing Chinese chess or listen to impromptu concerts, while in the early mornings half the population turns out for their daily exercises. Some merely stand among the shrubs twirling their arms, others practise the slow controlled movements of Tai Chi, while a group of ladies lunge and parry in carefully choreographed swordplay.


Choreographed swordplay by South Lake, Huizhou

The area surrounding the larger lake, Xi Hu (West Lake, no expense was spared in the naming) was laid out as a park during the Song dynasty (10th and 11th centuries). For a few Yuan you may stroll among the gardens, see a statue of the poet/administrator Su Dongpo and climb a wooden pagoda. From the top there is a fine view over the lake and the five-hundred-metre causeway that crosses it. The numerous right angle turns deny demons access to the central pavilion, while the small, marble humpback bridge was built by Su Dongpo in 1096.



West Lake, Huizhou

In 2004 I had never heard of Huizhou. Our daughter Siân, with a freshly minted MA in her hand and uncertainty as to what to do with it in her head, decided it might be interesting to go somewhere and teach English. With the whole world to chose from, Huizhou was where she and boyfriend James found jobs. They stayed a year, came home and got married, then returned for six months. Lynne and I visited twice, using Huizhou as a jumping off point for trips further north and west, and as a point of return before heading back to Hong Kong and thence home. It is special to us because Siân lived there, and because it was the first Chinese city we stayed in, its calmness a relief after the aggressive chaos of Shenzhen’s Lo Wu bus station.

Keeping Huizhou tidy

In Huizhou, under Siân’s tutelage, we learned how to survive as foreigners in China. We learned about buses and the etiquette of taxis and discovered that you can walk into the most basic restaurant, or occupy a table outside what seems only a hole in the wall and not only will you not be poisoned, but you will be served a meal that is skilfully cooked, full of flavour and extraordinarily cheap.

Frog cooked in a big leaf, Huizhou

The climate in August is far from ideal. It is certainly warm enough, the temperature reaching the low thirties, but it is usually overcast and often raining. Occasionally there is a storm, sometimes a typhoon. Even on sunny days the air is laden with moisture and to avoid being bathed in sweat you learn to walk slowly. Most things in Huizhou happen slowly, even the traffic.



West Lake, the pagoda from the middle of the lake, Huizhou

The city is nothing special, but it sowed the seeds of an obsession with China that has seen us return again and again. Despite the weather, I like the place.