by Jim Goodman
Guan Yin Temple near Dsli |
If you ask anyone of the Bai
ethnic minority around Dali, in western Yunnan, who is their most important
deity, the answer will be Guan Yin.
Also known as Avalokitesvar, Guan Yin is the Buddhist Goddess of
Compassion. The Bai are nominally
Mahayana Buddhist, and the cult of Guan Yin is an essential feature of this
brand of Buddhism. But the Bai
also venerate Guan Yin because of an ancient legend that credits her with
repelling a Han Dynasty invasion of the Dali plain two millennia ago.
Accordingly, when the Han army
arrived in Dali, Guan Yin disguised herself as a frail, old woman carrying a
huge boulder strapped to her back.
Beholding this phenomenon, the Han soldiers worried that if this
people’s old women were this strong, their male warriors, men the same age as
that of the invader’s troops, must be something like super-human. So they fled.
Guan Yin frightens the invaders |
In gratitude, the Bai
erected a modest temple to Guan Yin over the boulder and originally called it
the Huge Stone Temple. Several
buildings were added in the Ming and Qing Dynasties. The compound lies at the foot of the Malong Peak of the
Azure Mountains that rise above the western side of the Dali Plain, on the main
Xiaguan-Dali road, five km south of the old city. Two tall, seven-tiered iron pagodas flank the compound’s
entrance gate. Within the yard are
temples, smaller pagodas, pavilions, recitation halls, corridors full of
images, a small fish pond, a vaulted stone bridge and scores of potted flowers.
Bai villagers worship their benzhu |
While individual worshipers
may come here at any time, on the 19th day of the 3rd, 6th
and 9th lunar months the temple is especially active, for Bai
villagers come in groups to pay homage to Guan Yin. And on the 29th day of the second lunar month the
temple hosts its annual grand festival, augmenting the rituals with dance
programs and a holiday market. The
large crowds that attend this event clearly demonstrate Guan Yin’s enduring
importance to the Bai people.
However, if you were
to ask who is the most important deity in their own village, the answer will
not be Guan Yin but someone else, a deity whose name will be different from
village to village, for each Bai settlement has its own protector god. Known by the Chinese term benzhu, this is the village patron, the
guardian of its territory, who may be a deified ancestor, warrior or other
leader from the past, around whom local legends and myths have differentiated
it from the deities of every other village.
The Bai adopted their
tradition from the classic Chinese cult of the city god. This was usually a local hero associated
with the city, charged with advancing its fortunes, and if it failed in that respect,
city officials might berate, chastise or even ‘punish’ the god for its
failures. The Bai didn’t adopt
that part of the custom, but did transfer the city god to the village god, with
the responsibility of insuring the continuity of the land and its
inhabitants. All major life cycle
rituals take place in the temple of the village benzhu, further emphasizing the tie between the benzhu and its village devotees. And the benzhu is the first deity appealed to for good fortune, bounteous
harvests, expulsion of evil spirits and the hope of bearing children.
buffalo-headed guardian |
horse-headed guardian |
The cult resembles that of another Chinese-influenced civilization—the Vietnamese. Villages in Vietnam also conscript a
deceased hero as their protective deity, although in their case the guardian
spirit is usually a warrior who fought Chinese invaders. The Dali area was not the venue of so
much warfare over the centuries as northern Vietnam, so martial heroes are not
as prominent among the ranks of the Bai benzhu
personalities, who are more likely to be famous ancestors from the time the village
was founded, as well as noted officials, exceptionally filial sons and even
virtuous women. Warrior spirits
serve as guardians to the installed benzhu
image, but they could as easily be mythical animal-headed soldiers rather
than historical figures associated with the village protector deity.
procession for the benzhu |
Every year Bai villages honor
their benzhu with a festival. The dates vary according to each
village, but it generally takes place in the spring. Villagers slaughter pigs and sheep and hold a collective
feast. Entertainment includes
traditional dances and songs, perhaps a classical orchestra performance, plus
lion and dragon dances.
The climax of the occasion is
a long procession, the dance troupes part of it, with the image of the benzhu, either as a sculpture or a
portrait, carried in a special palanquin.
In some cases, two or three villages with strong kinship relations may
share the same benzhu. Then the procession will proceed to one
of the villages sharing the deity and spend the night there. Villagers living close to a major town
like Dali or Xichou may take their procession there and afterwards return home. Or the procession route may be just all
around the farms of the village and back to the temple.
carrying the benzhu's portrait |
Male elders wear Chinese-style
silk jackets and caps. Younger men
may dress in the traditional Bai vest, jacket and turban. Women dress in the Bai style, the older
generation in blue and black, the younger ones in white-sleeved blouses with
red or pastel-colored vests. The
women carry small percussion knockers that they beat rhythmically while they
march. The procession often stops
for brief performances of the dancers and generally lasts several hours
altogether. More than just a
religious festival, the event binds the villagers together in a shared, very
localized identity.
While benzhu celebrations are strictly village affairs, another major Bai
festival, incorporating many of the same themes, features the participation of
Bai people from all over the Dali Plain.
And for most of them it is the biggest social event in the year. Called Raoshanling in Chinese, Gweusala
in Bai, Visiting Three Spirits in English, it occurs every year from the 23rd
to 25th days of the 4th lunar month. Three different villages successively
host the event and the most devout participants will spend a night in each of
them.
traditional Bai dance in the procession |
Ordinarily, this is the period
between the end of the wheat harvest and the transplanting of rice seedlings. But the weather patterns are never
entirely predictable and in some years there might be some of either activity
going on when the festival falls due. Having evolved from its original concept of honoring an
ancient king who defended the land from Burmese invaders, the traditional
purpose of the festival is to promote fertility, both in terms of the coming
rice crop and the fertility of the women.
Bai dragon dance |
In the past, this was also a
time for romantic liaisons in the woods, made easier by the custom of overnight
stays in three different places.
Entertainment in the daytime programs, with openly suggestive dances and
very risqué song lyrics, enhanced the atmosphere for sexual dalliance, not to
mention the underlying fertility theme of the festival.
Because of these aspects,
puritanical Chinese Nationalist officials tried to ban Raoshanling in the
1930s. Though the festival was
strictly a Bai affair that Han Chinese never attended, their view was doubtless
influenced by their preconceptions of ’barbarian’ sexual mores. The Bai ignored the edict and continued
to celebrate it the old way until the Cultural Revolution. Fanatical Red Guards then transformed
it into a political event. Visiting
Three Spirits became a celebration of the Three Constantly Read Articles—Mao’s
‘Serve the People,’ ‘In Memory of Norman Bethune” and “The Foolish Old Man Who
Tried to Move the Mountain.” Red
Guards organized mass rallies to recite one of the articles in turn at each of
the three festival sites.
to an from Qinglong for Raoshanling |
That aberration didn’t last
long, though, and the festival has been back to normal since the early
80s. While there may not be so many
romantic escapades in the woods these days (plenty of other venues for that,
anyway), some of the mildly licentious festival atmosphere persists in the
disheveled clothing of the male dancers, feigned drunkenness, erotic dance
gestures and suggestive singing.
And much like the benzhu
celebrations, the program includes both rituals and entertainment.
The opening day is above
Qinglong village, at the foot of Wutai Peak. In the past people came here the evening before, in
processions that stopped briefly at various benzhu
temples and shrines to nature deities like the Mountain God and the Dragon Deity
of the Lake. This is the biggest
day and the path to the temple is lined with market stalls, food shops and
vendors selling the paraphernalia of the festival--tassels of grains and
flowers, cloth pendants of hearts and figurines and the round stickers of the
Eight Trigrams that people affix to their brows. Inside the temple devotees offer incense and prayers, bring
trays of food to be blessed and form groups that chant sutras.
preparing messages to the gods |
At the entrance to the temple
courtyard a few older men act as scribes to write prayers to the gods for the
devotees. These are done on yellow
paper, with the donor's name and address at the bottom. The prayer is placed into a rectangular
paper box. The devotee takes this
to the courtyard and sets fire to it by lighting it from the top. If the flames crackle while the box is
burnt that indicates the god has already acknowledged receipt of the message.
Inside the temple Bai women in
rows chant prayers and beat clackers, punctuated by a woman drummer and a male
horn player standing next to the altar.
Another group of women sit in the courtyard outside the temple
entrance. These sessions can last
a couple hours, after which the women take a break and then resume. They dress in their best and cleanest
traditional jackets, ornamented with pendants hanging down the front and the
back.
Most visitors spend less time
with the rituals and enjoy the fair.
They check out the numerous stalls in the markets, have a meal on the
grounds, quaff a few drinks and watch the occasional traditional dance
performances. The crowd only
starts thinning out in late afternoon, when most go home, though some may head
for Xichou to spend the night and catch the next day’s event.
ornaments worn over the back |
The second
day's venue is Hesichong, a small village below Xichou. Market stalls line the street to the
temple again, but of a more modest size and fewer in number. The activity
within the temple is the same as the previous day's, but this day has one
additional feature--a procession through the streets of Xichou. Some participants wear funny masks,
false noses and the like. But the
groups always include several women singing and dancing. They periodically stop to perform,
making a ring, some twirling batons, others rhythmically knocking their hips
against each other.
On the third day, smaller
still, but perhaps the most enjoyable because of its intimacy, the host is
Majiuyi, a pretty lakeside Bai village 6 km northeast of Dali. Throughout the morning, while devotees
from Majiuyi and nearby villages make offerings at the temple, an 18-member Bai
orchestra plays classical dongjing
music. There is no vocal
accompaniment, but a spoken prayer precedes each tune.
Bai musicians at Majiuyi |
At mid-morning a procession
winds through the village and performs in the temple courtyard. A troupe of middle-aged Bai women,
wearing dark glasses with their traditional clothing, dances in loops or in
pairs, wielding decorated staffs and bumping hips together. After that they gather in front of the
orchestra and a pair of older women, in high-pitched, quivering voices, sing
call-and-response songs. The
smirks on their faces and the sniggers and smiles of the audience indicate the
raunchy nature of the lyrics. Following a couple more tunes by the orchestra, the show
concludes and the last act of the program is the collective feast for the
musicians and performers.
In these modern times, the
traditional Raoshanling retains its popularity. While Chinese tourists may show up to watch the dances, it
is essentially a festival for Bai participants, with special Bai
characteristics that serve as a proud assertion of the Bai ethnic
identity. Religiously, too, it’s
still relevant, adding the protective power of the Three Spirits to that
bestowed by Guan Yin since her personal intervention on behalf of the Bai two
millennia ago, the intercession of nature gods, Buddhist and Taoist deities
residing in the area’s many temples, and the vigilance of their own village
guardian benzhu. That’s a lot of allies to help face any
potential misfortune in life. Spiritually
speaking, the Bai feel secure.
rituals for Raoshanling |
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