Pagodas, Temples and Monks

Last week we set out to see some of the Buddhist temple sights in Lanzhou.

We had been wanting to visit the famous Steel Bridge – historically the Zhongshan Bridge also called the first bridge over the Yellow River, lies at the foot of Bai Ta Mountain. In the year 1907, the Qing Government began to build this first iron bridge over the upper reaches of the Yellow River. All materials, even the rivets, were transported from Germany to China using ships, trains, carts and any other means possible. The bridge was completed in two years, and named ‘Lanzhou Iron Bridge over the Yellow River’.

As it was around the time of New Year our visit coincided with the bridge being strung with great clusters of red lanterns the entire length and breadth of the bridge, spanning the Yellow River.

On the other side, from the river bank, we could look up and see our destination, high up on the mountainside – the White Pagoda.
It stood up there, appearing as a tower-like structure, whiteish in colour.

We crossed the road and began our ascent.

Although at this time of the year Lanzhou does have visitors – family visitors visiting their families – the old temple terraces of Lanzhou were relatively empty of other people.
We started with the lower temples and stairs. We were struck by the beauty of their structures, and L took a lot of photographs while I wandered beneath their curved roofs and perched on the low benches, and gazed out over the slow river moving along its icy banks.

We moved up the mountain slowly, taking each flight of stairs at a steady pace. The higher we moved, the more temples we encountered. Some were bigger, but they were always arranged as a courtyard, with many doors leading to rooms housing various statues. The statues sit in their dim chambers, glowing in candlelight, surrounded by great arrangements of big artificial flowers in front of mural painted walls.
Mostly there is a large bell close by, which I suppose only the monks can strike with the long tree trunk attached for the purpose.
The air is pungent, filled with the heady aroma of burning incense – some sticks are always alight and burning, stuck in a trough of sand, standing at angles, some a shocking pink, or a striking blue or a vibrant mellow yellow colour.
The statues sit aloof behind their green stable doors, untouchable, with a large padded kneeler in place for followers to kneel on or say their prayers.
And so we progressed upwards. The city spread out beneath us and we could see its high buildings stretching far into the distance.

Eventually, we came to the Pagoda itself, built in the 13th Century it stands alone with all its many Buddhas looking out from their many alcoves, all ringed around, layer upon layer up into the sky.
I like it immensely and L and I wandered around it. It stands so silently and still, and it was there that I felt moved to buy a three pack of pink incense ( it is an honour system, trust that payment will be left) and I lit them from the flame always burning there and planted them together in the sand, and prayed for my loved ones, and then left the rising fragrant smoke to carry those prayers up and up into the air all around.

L and I stopped at a little curio shop and bought cheap jade and other mementos for special people back home.
We took our time descending, passing more folk making their way up through the slowly warming up day.

A few days later we went on another expedition.
This time we visited Five Springs Park which lies in the northwest part of Gaolan Mountain. In the Western Han Dynasty (206 B.C.- 24 A.D.), a famous general, Huo Qubing, was dispatched by the Emperor to go on a punitive expedition to the Hun people, a minority group who lived in the northwestern part of China at that time. Since the troops had travelled from Chang’an (now Xian ), General Huo and his soldiers were exhausted when they arrived at the foot of Gaolan Mountain. They couldn’t find any water nearby, so General Huo forcefully jabbed his horsewhip five times into the ground. Abruptly five springs spurted water into the air. Thereafter the locals called the mountain the Five Springs Mountain.


We took the no 18 bus all the way to where it stops and then turns around to go back the way it came.
We could see some ancient Chinese structures clinging to the cliffs ahead of us.

We made our way to the entrance of the Park, stopping to stroll into a shop selling large statues and filled to the brim with other objects such as drums and huge gongs, one of which was being purchased by a couple of monks when we were there. The shop was filled with the sound of Buddhist chants which were for sale in CD format. We bought a long 21 flag string of prayer flags to take home one day, to hang up in our courtyard, where they can flap and whisper out their Chinese prayers and fade in the sun along our African stoep.

The bottom reaches of the Park contain a zoo, which we avoided, and large basins of brilliantly coloured artificial flowers. The incongruously raucous music from a nearby funfair beat its way to us as we discovered two of the magical springs. Some of the ponds were still frozen over but people were still seen filling bottles from the springs trickling steadily out of the rocks.
We walked on by and began to climb up the mountain, and were passed by a monk, walking, self-contained, his loops of prayer beads passing through his fingers one by one.

There were many stairways leading every which way up the steep hillside. We zigzagged our way up, stopping at the many temples as we went. We came upon a beautiful arched bridge, spanning a frozen waterfall, and we crossed it, me struggling with vertigo as I did so.

The temples near the top were strung with many colourful rows of prayer flags, fluttering in the very bracing breeze.

We found some metallic painted prayer wheels in one temple and ran our fingers over them, sending them spinning. At another rather busy temple there were 4 walls of golden prayer wheels and we followed the red arrows, guiding us along them in the correct direction. They turned slowly and heavily behind us as we passed.

At that temple there were a number of monks, crossing the courtyard very rapidly, heads down and disappearing through doorways hung with heavily embroidered cloths.

A big golden and shiny Buddha sat in his glass box there, grinning fatly, and it was there that Lex caught a monk in his shot as he passed behind the box, and he raised his hand at us and smiled.

From the highest reaches, we looked down over the ancient curved rooftops of the temples, decorated with small bells and metal dragons, and gazed at the new, very rapidly growing city of Lanzhou. It was very peaceful, with a closed up monastery clinging precariously to the dry hillside behind us.

We found the sites of the other Springs, one of which apparently reflects the full moon perfectly in its well of water at a certain time in the summer.

I would like to see that.

The Market

Brush salesman

On Saturday we set out to go shopping. We had no real plan, apart from a visit to the bank

We wandered past Wu-mart and kept walking, and around the corner, we came upon a market.

morning marketThe market ran down both sides of a side street. It was full of people and ran along the street for quite a long way.
We decided to venture down it.

There were many stalls, all very interesting and different from the markets that I know.

Fresh fishThere were stalls selling fish. The fish were kept alive in big red square baths, with fresh water being pumped around them as they lay there twisting and flicking their tails. We did not buy any, but if we had, our fish would have been killed, scaled and gutted for us while we waited.

Live chickens being soldThere were live chickens being sold. They were kept in wire and steel cages, from where they were taken out and weighed for customers. I didn’t wait around to see whether they were killed and cleaned then and there or not. We had to move on

The narrow walkway not only catered for pedestrians but also for three-wheelers and motorbikes and bicycles, all moving up and down, shopping and making deliveries.

Brush salesmanAn old man sold an assortment of brushes from his bicycle parked in the middle of the road.

Fruit and vegetablesThe fruit and vegetables were very fresh and crispy and brightly coloured. They were all set out in rows and were very cheap, but as we planned to be out for a while we did not buy any.

Colourful herbsThere were also tables groaning under bags of spices, loads of chillies, chopped finely or roughly, piles of a yellow powder (surely it was turmeric), dried green herbs (which ones?), and a pile of light pink powder (no idea what that could be).
I recognised piles of cinnamon bark, bundles of bay leaves, clusters of star anise and bunches of fresh coriander. I guessed at what other powders could be, but it didn’t matter, as I wasn’t buying.
What I did buy was ginger. I wanted a piece so that we could cut off thin slices to put in the hot water that the Chinese serve to you everywhere and which we have started drinking as well.
Anyway – I gave too much money (it wasn’t much) and ended up with 5 huge pieces of ginger!
Shopping from markets with no language is an art that I have yet to master!

We bought some crispy little round pastries to nibble on. They tasted of oil, but they went down well, as we ate them, strolling along in the icy morning.

Fresh meatThere were a lot of meat stalls, with the meat lying out on open tables in the freezing air. They seemed to be sold as large chunks of meat, not cut into steaks or chops or cubes or ribs. There was not much pork for sale, we noticed, as most of the stallholders at the market appeared to be Muslim, with the flat planes of Mongolia carved on their faces.

Green TeaWe stopped at a stall where a man sold piles of green tea. We did not have a container in which we could carry a small amount, nor do we have a teapot or a strainer. The man at the stall had a little English, in that he could say ‘Green tea’ and he gave us permission to photograph his stall, although he himself moved out of the shot.

A truck load of freshly made pasta
A truck load of freshly made pasta

We were beckoned over by a lady selling tofu (a lot of it is served to us in the school cafeteria). She was selling from a large bucket of chilli tofu (her husband knew the word ‘hot’) and another bucket of plain tofu. She gave us a little taster of each and so we bought a square – not so much because we wanted it but because we felt obliged to her. We did not pay much for it, and I carried it in my coat pocket, wrapped in plastic, for the rest of the morning.

Bicycle graveyardWe strolled on and the row of market stalls ended. We found ourselves in a rather dilapidated part of town, filled with workers, trucks and impatient men on 3 wheelers. There were little warehouses everywhere and towering flats above strung with ropes of black cable and windows caged in with bars.

Muslim restaurantI saw a small Muslim restaurant in which I glimpsed groups of smoking men talking and eating together around smoky tables.

We emerged back out onto the Main Road, having walked in a loop. We wandered into a health pharmacy, looking for some basic medication. L used our Chinese/English app to describe what we needed, as well as to read the packaging. We got what we needed, and amongst much smiling and reading of cell phone scenes, we paid and left.

Crossing Chinese roads no longer phases us, apart from the very real danger that we might look the wrong way for oncoming traffic.
We started feeling a little concerned about the tofu in my pocket, and so we headed home.

A Walk In The Park

Today, the 1st of January 2018 is a public holiday in Lanzhou.

Lex and I went for a walk, crossing the main road bravely – there was not a lot of traffic, perhaps people were at home with their families.
Not everyone was at home though, because, although not crowded, there were quite a few people in the park across the road from us.

IMG_4552-EFFECTSWe found the main entrance to the park, clearly marked by large sculptures and many references to the Olympics.
The trees and bushes are mere twigs at this time of year. I am already looking forward to Springtime here when no doubt buds will burst forth from every branch.
In the meantime, we have to make do with pots full of brightly coloured cardboard flowers!

IMG_4564We strolled along the pathways next to the wide fast flowing Yellow River. Today was one of the clearest days we have experienced yet here in Lanzhou.
We stood on the banks and looked over at the dry empty hill behind the high buildings. Across the river, a child was skimming stones.

IMG_2901 (2)Here and there along the path elderly men were walking alone, stopping every now and then to do exercises. They clapped their hands together or swung their arms. Other older men and women were walking together, sometimes backwards, listening to music on their phones, or chatting.

There were people on outdoor gym equipment, partaking in an exercise routine under the open sky. Families, usually consisting of three members, Mom, Dad and child, were out and about enjoying the day together.
Lex and I walked for a long time, eventually crossing the road on the pedestrian bridge and walking home.

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