Longwu Monastery, Tongren

One afternoon, as a spontaneous side trip we decided to go visit the Longwu Buddhist monastery complex near Tongren, a place hardly mentioned on any tourist maps or guide books, and with no reason as to why this should be so- it was one of the most stunning things I have ever seen. The monastery was set in a backdrop of deep beige and dry Tibetan mountain ranges, with around six hundred monks living inside its walls, interspaced with normal civilians living their daily lives. There was not another tourist in sight, echoes bounced off perfectly silent facades, and each temple was beautifully intricate, bursting with colors and minute attention to detail, exquisitely decorated, linked by a series of meandering stone passages that crumbled at the touch and into which were built large, closed, wooden doors.



Three-headed Buddha statue in entrance



Barred wooden doorways

Greeting us at the entrance gate was an ironic sight- a monk on sitting on his motorbike, in full robes, and talking on his cell phone. This has been a major shock for me, processing the fact that monks are not how we stereotypically picture them in the West. Often, the sight of a burgundy and yellow robed monk pacing down a busy city street in Xining or Chengdu had me turning around in surprise, but this is of course completely normal. Monks clearly must have existences outside of their religion, living amongst regular citizens- the romantic image of prayer in seclusion, tucked away amongst high peaks leading detached lives and abstaining from modern culture is not the whole picture. This duality exists, and boarding the plane today I should not have been surprised to find a monk, sitting in first class, with a (fake) Gucci bag tapping away on his iPhone. The contrast that one finds in city architecture, temples superimposed over skyscrapers, is even more present when encapsulated in a human; for surely, one must be in contrast to the other? The Buddhist religion teaches dissociation and non-interference, a state of non-interest in material possessions or bodily pleasures. How this is being dealt with by practicing monks, in our modern society of constant sensory overload and consumerism, must be a fascinating topic to ponder.

                                         

 

Back to Longwu. The only other people around us were local Chinese and Tibetans, deep in Buddhist prayer, pacing around the temples in clockwise directions (we desecrated this tradition by sheepishly attempting to go counterclockwise on a shorter route, and were reprimanded by the angry scolding of an old man leaning against the temple walls), mumbling prayers to themselves as they held their palms together, first touching the top of their heads, then the forehead, the chest, the middle body, and laying down on the ground- even old women were doing this strenuous activity with incredible agility. The power of religion and devotion epitomized. They appeared like something out of a movie, dressed in traditional gowns, bright eye-catching colors, head scarves, beads, and leather-worn faces marking the paths of their lives. I couldn't believe that this was a real scene, that it wasn’t construed for tourists passing by- this is how people dress, live, and pray, every day.

Ancient Tibetan woman in prayer



At one point- this was one of the most marking moments of the trip to date- we were walking back past the main temple in a clockwise direction (after feigning surprise and repealing our shortcut), when all of a sudden, where before the vast wooden gates of the temple with lion-embellished knockers had been closed, the doors began opening. A darkly colored, bald monk with pale, piercing blue eyes and this unutterably intense expression opened the doors and looked at us very strangely, almost daring us in. We followed him hesitantly into the temple. Inside, one realized the vastness of the interior space, shrouded in darkness, practically empty save for rugged prayer mats on the ground and ornately painted vivid pillars, the sole light seeping in through the open door with a very pale white glow, and the far end illuminated by candlelight. Walking deeper into the temple, as our eyes adjusted we began discerning the massive shapes in front of us, enormous Buddha and dragon-like statues, under which were placed a plethora of candles, incense, and other objects I couldn't discern, begging prayer and homage. The room was completely silent, only broken by our cautious footsteps and the movements of the monk as he continued lighting candles and filling golden cups with a clear liquid. Words could never do justice to any of this however; it was just so eerie, haunting, and sacred.

Young monk walking around the temples