Confucius; Hayashi; Grand Mazu; Chihkan

After leaving the Anping District this morning, I took in two temples (Confucius Temple and Grand Mazu Temple), a department store (Hayashi), and a fort (Chihkan Tower). Unlike this morning, the names of the sights in my guidebook matched up with the names on Google Maps, so it was a much less confusing second half to my day.

Confucius Temple

It goes without saying that the following is a subjective matter of personal taste, but I thought that the Confucius Temple was the most simply elegant and elegantly simple of the temples I’ve seen on this trip. The buildings had clean lines, with the colour red predominating.

The main hall has a dignified roof that reaches a peak on either side and arched slightly downward in between the peaks. Inside, there are some large calligraphy boards hung near the ceiling and simple items on the altar.

There is a perimeter building around a courtyard that at the main hall sits on. Again, it’s a simple red building with porticos held up by red poles.

Inside the perimeter building there are some rooms that contain musical instruments such as drums and a large collection of bells along with other objects used in ceremonies twice a year, once in the spring and once in the autumn. English gets equal billing on much of the signage.

Another room in the building contains six or eight, I forget which, wooden plaques that were presented by successive Qing emperors. The plaques paid tribute to Confucius. Many of the messages spoke highly of the wisdom and academic attributes of Confucius. Display panels beneath the plaques provided translations and named the presenter of the plaque and when it was presented. This information was presented in three languages. I assume one of the languages was Chinese. I know one was English. And the other was another Asian language, but I don’t know which. (They were likely two different Chinese languages.)

For example, the English under one of the plaques said, ‘”Teacher for all generations” Presented by Emperor Kăng xi in 1684.’ Another said, ‘”Confucius has the perfect academic ideas and personal conduct.” Presented by Emperor Xianfeng in 1851.’

Left unsaid was that, despite that, Confucius still couldn’t get a teaching position at Harvard.

In front of the perimeter building are some lovely grounds with flowers, manicured lawns and a small, semicircular pool. There’s also a dignified little “Gate of Rites and the Route of Righteousness.” I walked through it. I think that means that I’m now ceremonially righteous.

Beside the permitter building, there’s a “Hall of Ethics” that, according to an English-language pamphlet I picked up the Confucius Temple, was used for the study of Confucian classics since the 17th century. It’s a fairly simple room with a board up at the front with several columns of Chinese characters. There are also larger Chinese characters mounted on the walls elsewhere in the building.

I went into the Hall of Ethics. So you can trust that I’m a thoroughly ethical person. Otherwise, I’m sure they wouldn’t have let me in.

Near the Hall of Ethics, there’s a small, handsome, three-level tower. It didn’t look like the public was allowed in. So I didn’t try because I’m an ethical person.

Across the street that runs along the side of the Confucius Temple there’s a stone arch. A sign beside it with some English text said it was erected In 1777 as the main entrance to the Confucius temple.

Aside

Stately Building

On my walk between the Confucius Temple and my next stop, I passed the building pictured here. It looked like a somewhat grand building so I walked around to see if I could find a hint as to what it was (I didn’t see it marked on Google Maps).

I found more than a clue. I found a sign that included English saying that it was the “Tainan Municipal West Central District Jhongyi Elementary School.” I thought it was quite impressive for an elementary school. I meant, it’s not Saranac Boulevard Public School, but what is?

(In addition to me, I believe there are three regular readers of this journal who have a direct connection to Saranac. There may be a few more who have at least heard of it. For anyone else, never mind. It’s an inside joke.

Hayashi Department Store

My guidebook recommended the Hayashi Department Store as an art deco store from the 1930s. It also mentions a “grandma lift with the dial floor indicator” that’s worth riding in to see it.

There’s only one elevator. It has a maximum capacity of five people and there’s a sign inside that says it stops only on the first and fifth floors. The fifth is the top sales floor. There was a short line that I joined just to experience the elevator.

Sometime between when that entry was written in my guidebook and now they replaced the dial floor indicator with a digital display panel. It was an elevator. Nothing more; nothing less. And it was a somewhat cramped one with five people on it.

My guidebook also mentioned the store’s grand staircase. The author has a different idea of the meaning of grand than I do. It was a very pedestrian, unadorned staircase that made sharp, not sweeping, turns every ten or so steps.

On the fifth floor, there was another set of stairs that allowed me to go up to the roof, where there was an observation deck, a small Shinto shrine, and an enclosed cafe.

During the Second World War, the Hayashi Department Store was the tallest building in Tainan. For a while, it was used as an anti-aircraft position. It took some hits. They repaired most of the building. But they left a few bullet holes and bomb holes for historical purposes.

I took in the views and then walked down the “grand” staircase.

Grand Mazu Temple

I learned something at the Grand Mazu Temple. There is a flow that worshipers are supposed to follow in Taoist temples. I kind of roughly figured that out by using Google Translate on Chinese-only signs at other temples I visited on this trip. But at the Grand Mazu Temple, there was a sign with an English translation of the rituals that worshippers are supposed to follow.

The sign provided a labelled floor plan of the temple and offered the following step-by-step instructions:

1. Face outward to the Jade Emperor (Place 3 incense sticks)
2. Mazu (Place 3 incense sticks)
3. Honourable Kings of the Water Immortals
4. Dragon Kings of the Four Seas
5. Tiger General
6. Emperors of the Three Realms
7. Sacred Parents of Mazu (Place 1 incense stick)
8. Goddess of Childbirth Lady Linshuei (Place 1 incense stick)
9. 5 Wunchang Dijyum, God of Matchmaking Fu De Jheng Shen, Wenwu God of Wealth (Place 1 incense stick1)
10. Mother of the North Dipper God of Taisuei (Place 1 incense stick1)
11. Guanyin (Place 1 incense stick1)
12. Sanbao Buddha (Place 1 incense stick1)

Now I know why I often saw many people at the temples I visited starting with several lit incense sticks, stopping at each of the deity stations, bowing multiple times, and then leaving one or more of their incense sticks stuck in the sand in the incense receptacle at each station. If I counted correctly in the instructions above, the faithful at the Grand Mazu Temple need 12 incense sticks to properly honour the deities.

As to the temple, it’s not nearly as simple and elegant as the Confucius temple I saw earlier this afternoon, but the main sanctuary is nowhere near as crammed full of decorations and figures as some of the other temples I’ve been to on this trip.

It also has some intricately carved columns similar to the temple I visited this morning in Anping. I’m still not certain of the true name of that temple.

Before it was a temple, the building that is now the Grand Mazu Temple was a palace of Ning Jin, the Ming Dynasty’s king. It was turned into a temple shortly after his death. There’s a roof beam in the now-temple where Ning Jin’s concubines hanged themselves. Well, isn’t that special?

Chihkan Tower

The Chihkan Tower is an old fort that my guidebook says is a splendid place to roam around. It also says that only the foundation is original.

If you look at the picture I posted here, you’ll see a large mural. Behind that is some scaffolding and behind that, I assume, is the main building of Chihkan Tower. I guess the mural is there to make sure I couldn’t get even a glimpse of the main building through the scaffolding.

Once in a while, I saw workers walking out from the scaffolded building and I could hear workers working with loud power equipment. I always appreciate when people go that far out of their way to make me think that they’re not closing their site simply because I’m there. It’s very polite of them to play out the lie to that extent.

There is a smaller building that’s open behind the scaffolded building. I was able to look at it, go in, and walk up the stairs to the second level.

There’s a small shrine upstairs. There, I learned something else.

In a number of shrines I’ve been to in Taiwan, I’ve seen people holding two small crescent-moon-shaped blocks in their hands, throwing them loudly on the hard floor, and then doing it again, sometimes repeating that several times. I had absolutely no idea what was going on.

In the upstairs shrine at Chihkan Tower, there was an English sign explaining how to use the wood blocks. I’ll post the picture I took of the sign rather than copying the text here because there are some illustrations I hope it shows up large enough here for you to be able to make it out.

After reading it, I still have questions.

• Who is Lord Kui Xing Pencil and why would want to ask for him?
• You don’t take no or a smile for an answer, you just keep throwing until you get a yes? What? Back when I was in school and I took a multiple-choice test, I wish my teachers, and later my professors, would have let me keep guessing until I got the right answer.
• And what am I supposed to do with the pencil I take? I only write using my computer or iPhone. Why don’t they give me one of those instead?
• And, wait. What is it telling me yes, no, or just smiling dumbly in response to? Whether Lord Kui Xing Pencil is on duty while I’m there? I can already tell you the answer to that. It’s no. It’s always no. He got the memo and leaves town when I’m around.

The portion of the Chihkan Tower grounds that aren’t blocked off for construction includes what looks like a small archaeological site where they exposed some of the brick foundation. Out front, there’s a banyan tree and a pond that’s vastly overpopulated with big, mostly orange, but also some white fish. They barely have room to move.

I barely had the energy left to continue, so I walked back to my hotel and ended my activities for the day.

By the way, not that it’s relevant, but “Chihkan” is close to the English word “chicken.” Until, through repeated corrections, autocorrect learned that I seriously wanted to type the word “Chihkan,” it kept changing it to chicken. Considering that, I think the closeness to the English “chicken” makes for an unfortunate name for a fort.

“Don’t worry. Invading them will be a snap. I hear they’re chicken.”