Dongyue, Lady Linshui’s, and Fahua Temple

If there’s one thing Tainan is not short of it’s temples. No matter how massive a stick you wave, Tainan has more temples than you can shake a stick at by an order or two of magnitude. I managed to see three of them this morning, Dongyue Temple, Lady Linshui’s Temple, and Fahua Temple.

Nevertheless, during my time in Tainan, I won’t see all of the temples my guidebook lists here. And even that’s far from all of the temples in the city. As I’ve walked to the sights I’ve seen so far, and from one sight to another, I’ve invariably passed a temple or two, or more, that aren’t listed in my guidebook. Most of them are small, but some, despite not being huge, are too big to insult with the label “small.”

(I’m sure I’ve failed more than once, but I try not to insult temples. What if I insult a temple for a deity that takes an interest in the world, but is a vindictive god? It might force Air Canada to take away my frequent flier status, or, if he or she is particularly vengeful, possibly even worse. Perhaps, I shudder to think, it might take away my status and cause my Aeroplan points to disappear from my account.)

If there is one thing Tainan is short of is rapid transit. I’ve already used Uber a couple of times within the city.

But this morning I walked. The farthest from my hotel of the three temples was less than a half-hour walk. And they were all approximately in the same direction from my hotel, allowing me to plot a roughly rational route, without any one segment being too long of a walk. Getting to my first destination, Dongyue Temple, was the longest single stroll of the morning.

Dongyue Temple

I had trouble finding Dongyue Temple.

My e-book guidebook provided a link to Google Maps for what it thought were the correct GPS coordinates. I followed the route that Google Maps gave me diligently.

It had me walk about half a block past a small, busy temple wedged between some grungy stores. It then told me to turn left into a nearly deserted market and walk the equivalent of about half a block into the market. There was no temple there, just some mostly empty market stalls.

I’ve had it happen at least a couple of previous times on this trip where the link provided by my guidebook sent me to the wrong place. How I correct this is to then search for the sight by name.

Sometimes, I’m smart enough to not trust the guidebook’s link and search by name before starting out. I didn’t do that this time.

Once I was certain that I was led astray, I searched Google Maps for “Dongyue Temple.” It found one in mainland China, but nothing in Tainan or even anywhere in Taiwan.

I tried adding “Tainan” after “Dongyue Temple” in my search. Google Maps thought I wanted to find Tainan in general, but not anything specific in Tainan despite still having “Dongyue Temple” in the search bar.

I switched to Apple Maps and searched for “Dongyue Temple,” without Tainan in the search. Apple Maps found it and led me back to the temple I passed. Apple Maps wins that round.

At first, after looking around a bit, I wasn’t sure I was in Dongyue Temple. My guidebook mentioned it had two chambers. True, the book didn’t say that was all it had, but I figured if there were more, it’d mention them. The temple I was in had three small chambers, all in a row from front to back.

According to the guidebook, people come to Dongyue Temple to communicate with the dead. It didn’t say if they communicate with specific dead people or just any ghosts who happen to pass through. I don’t want to be there at night because it’s said that you can hear the screams of tortured spirits then. I’m skeptical, but in case that’s true, why would I want to hear that? For my tastes, a light comedy at a movie theatre or playhouse is the sort of entertainment I’d be looking for.

My guidebook said the first chamber of Dongyue Temple holds the God of Mount Tai, the king of the underworld. I don’t know why he’d want to spend all of his time in that one temple. He should get out more. Go for a walk. Go to a concert. Travel. Whatever. Just get out of the temple once in a while.

The altar in the first chamber had some cheerfully coloured decorations, but I did see some statues that fit the bill for a temple of the king of the underworld. And there was one standalone statue, I forget if it was in the first, second, or third chamber, with horns. So, at least in Western cultures, a typical Satan character.

What threw me off, however, is that my guidebook said that the second chamber contains some grim murals that are as graphic as the depiction of hell by Hieronymus Bosch. It goes on to say that the murals include depictions of “disembowelment, eye gouging, stabbing and boiling.” I didn’t see them.

I wish the author of the guidebook hadn’t mentioned Hieronymus Bosch. The problem is, I saw Hieronymus Bosch paintings in Dublin and at least one other city I’ve visited, but I can’t remember where. I visited those one-or-two other cities with Bosch paintings before I started this journal. But a search for Hieronymus Bosch here confirmed I saw at least one in Dublin.

Being casually familiar with Hieronymus Bosch paintings, I was looking for vividly dark (if that’s not an oxymoron; or even if it is) apocalyptic paintings. That’s not what they were.

After checking both of my mapping apps and not seeing anything nearby that might be the real Dongyue Temple, I went back into the second chamber. On closer inspection, I found the murals. I missed them because they are the opposite of vivid.

The murals are etched into highly polished grey stone. So they’re essentially monochrome. And being highly polished, much of the murals were highly reflective, making it a little difficult to see what was etched on them.

But there they were with all of the attendant gore.

I took closeups of a few sections of the murals. (The reflections of light rendered a photo of anything larger unrecognizable.) I posted one of those photos here. I’m not sure how easy it is to make out, but it depicts a satanic figure using a pitchfork to attack a man. So, that was fun.

Lady Linshui’s Temple

After setting out from Dongyue Temple, I had no trouble finding Lady Linshui’s Temple. The link provided by my guidebook took me pretty much straight to it.

My guidebook said women have come here for generations to ask Lady Linshui for protection for their children. Children can be so time-consuming to protect sometimes. It said that Lady Linshui had 36 attendants to help her. The book said that represents three for each month. I don’t know if it was suggesting that each assistant works only for a month and then takes the rest of the year off or if this was just its way of emphasizing how many there are.

If it’s the former, I can’t help wondering if those eleven months off are paid leave. If so, wow, that’s an amazing benefits package. If not, how can they afford to put bread on the table during that layoff time?

But never mind that.

Lady Linshui’s Temple has a bright front, with rows of bright red and bright yellow Chinese lanterns strung between the front of the temple and the ceremonial gate ahead of it.

The main shrine is very colourfully decorated, as are some smaller shrines to the side and back.

Behind the temple, there’s a vivaciously decorated incinerator. I’ve seen these at other temples, but they’re not always as vibrant. I read that people use these to burn any bad fortunes they get at the temple. I don’t know if that’s the case here. Some people threw large wads of yellow and red paper into the flames.

Oh, by the way, I don’t know how often it happens, but my guidebook told me that, if I was extremely lucky, I might be at Lady Linshui’s Temple for a spectacle known as “the Twelve Grannies Parade.” During the parade, older (older than what?) men dress up in women’s clothing and wear old ladies’ masks. I wasn’t extremely lucky.

Bonus

Park and Shrine

Directly across from Lady Linshui’s Temple, but with the entrance just a few steps away in the direction of my third temple of the morning, there’s a lovely little park with a shrine in it.

Apple and Google Maps both told me it is Koxinga Shrine. I used the search function in my guidebook. It’s not listed there, at least, not under that name. If it’s under a different name, I missed it. I don’t recall reading about any sight with a description that sounded like it was describing what I saw.

As I said, the park is charming. Okay, I said lovely, not charming, but don’t be a stickler. It’s petty of you.

The park has a small, irregularly shaped pond. There are two bridges across it. One is a short, arched stone bridge. The other is a two-segment, flat bridge with a small island between the two segments. There’s also a fountain shooting out of the pond.

I didn’t see any fish in that pond. However, immediately adjacent to it, but sectioned off from it by a small stone wall just barely topping the surface of the water, there’s another, much tinier pond. In the tiny pond, there were a few light grey, dark grey, and even fewer orange fish

The park also has some clumps of bamboo and a few trees that Apple Photos told me are weeping figs, among other, less interesting trees.

And there is a gazebo and a big statue of what looks like a confidently happy, valiant warrior on horseback.

After I left the shrine on the other side from where I came in, I saw a sign that included an English translation. Among other things, it told me that, “Koxinga died in 1662, after his death, the Taiwanese built “Kai Shan Lord Temple” in the early period of Qing rule, to worship Koxinga in appreciation for his contribution to the island, and commemorate his rule.”

Walking through the park, I saw a sight I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. A woman was walking a pet rabbit on a leash. The rabbit wore a colourful robe.

The rabbit paused every once in a while, sniffed the sidewalk and then started hopping along as rabbits tend to do. While it was hopping, the woman usually had to break into a bit of a jog to avoid holding the bunny back.

I took the accompanying picture when the rabbit was in one of its pauses, using the zoom on my phone’s camera beyond its optical capability so as to not get so close as to spook the bunny.

Fahua Temple

Like at the Dongyue Temple, the Google Maps GPS-coordinates link provided by my guidebook for Fahua Temple led me astray. But this time it put me even farther away from the temple in terms of how far I had to walk than it did at Dongyue Temple.

It sent me to a spot on a major street without any temples within eyesight. But this time, the problem resolution was easier. Both Google Maps and Apple Maps were able to find Fahua Temple by name. And both said it was in the same place, namely where it indeed is, in the next street back. It’s a smaller street named, of all things, Fahua Street.

My guidebook sent me mid-block on that busy street. The temple is almost right behind it on Fahua Street. But because it was mid-block, I had to walk back to the corner, along the short block to Fahua Street, and then back along Fahua Street to the temple.

What’s weird is the guidebook gives an address and it knows the temple is on Fahua Street. It just didn’t want to send me there. I try to not take these things personally, but it’s hard not to.

The Fahua temple is quite sparse. It’s supposedly one of Tainan’s oldest Buddhist temples. It could benefit from a little work, but I don’t know if “one of the oldest” would be true if you took the “Buddhist” qualifier out of that statement.

My guidebook said that the temple’s only roof ornamentation is a single gourd that sits on the roof ridge of the main hall and acts as an exorcist of evil spirits. I saw what was clearly the main hall. I saw what I assumed was its roof ridge. But I didn’t see the gourd.

I looked for quite a while, including at spots that I didn’t think the words “roof ridge” referred to. I still couldn’t find it.

I was disappointed. I desperately wanted to see it.

For one thing, a gourd on a temple roof sounds unique. For another, I don’t think I have any evil spirits, but if I do, I’m not sure I’d know. I’m not always as self-aware as I should be. If I had an evil spirit inhabiting my body I might not recognize the change in me unless the spirit jumped out of my body and slapped me hard in the face.

If it did that, not only would I become aware that it was resident in me, but I’d become quite perturbed as well. If I have any unnoticed evil spirits in me, I definitely want the gourd to exorcise them.

On the other hand, maybe it was a good thing I didn’t see the gourd. It was getting on lunchtime and I was getting hungry, so it was probably for the best that I wasn’t reminded of food even tangentially.

Inside, there’s a large, gold-coloured Buddha at the front of the main hall and some other smaller Buddhas and decorations elsewhere. There’s also a large figure that looks quite distressed, but it is standing in quite a jaunty posture. Perhaps it’s the jaunty posture that’s distressing him. I imagine it’s difficult to hold that pose for very long.

There are also a couple of simple, but attractive two-tone relief sculptures hanging on the walls.

In the yard out front, there’s an old Chinese banyan tree. I know it’s a banyan because there’s a sign beside it with a little bit of English that says that’s what it is. I think it’s old, but I’m not sure how to interpret the sign. It says, “Age:100:80年years.” What does that mean? Google Translate says that “年” is “year” in English. Is it saying it’s 80 to 100 years old? If so, it’s probably older now. The sign looked aged.

After visiting Fahua Temple, it was time to find some lunch, which is not always an easy thing for an anglophone to do in Tainan away from a big hotel. I ended up at a North American-style cafe that had some food and English translations on their menu.