THROUGH
THE EYES OF...
Becky
Whitlock - Bath, UK
The
Blurb:
This
festival is held over the first 9 days of the 9th lunar month to celebrate
the return from heaven to earth of the Nine Emperor spirits, who are
worshipped as one deity and who represent health, wealth and prosperity.
Their
arrival is said to be made via the waterways and worshippers fill
the temples to make offerings of incense and prayer so that good fortune
will be granted them.
Chinese
opera is performed in the Nine Emperor God's honour, and at the height
of the festivities, priests write charms and prayers in their own
blood, before the spirits are contained in an urn which is sent out
to sea on a small, decorated boat.
The
Gory Legend Bit:
Legend has it that nine emperors were sent by the Mings to overthrow
the Manchus, but they failed their task and were captured and beheaded.
The Manchus sealed their heads in an urn and threw them out to sea
where they were later washed ashore. Some fishermen found the urn,
and on opening it, the Nine Emperor spirits were released and sent
into heaven.
When
the Manchu emperor heard the news, he repented and built and dedicated
a temple to the Nine Emperor God. The sending out to sea of the urn
is symbolic of the spirits' safe passage back to heaven.
The
End of Festival Celebrations:
After receiving a mumbled version of "The Blurb" from a
reluctant me, we all trotted out of the hostel with Hai and Ping as
our trusty leaders to go to see the last night's celebrations.
We
arrived to see hundreds of people assembled at the altars and on the
stages which held many people praying and waving their incense sticks
in the Nine Emperor God's honour. There seemed to be a tense excitement
in the air, and soon, an energetic little fella with a gong and the
will to deafen, set about announcing the arrival of the sedan chairs
and their bearers.
The
sedans are said to hold the nine spirits and they were rocking madly
from side to side, leaving us scurrying for a safe vantage point and,
at one point, in fear for our safety! Luckily, no one was maimed and
amidst much gong-banging and cymbal-crashing, the sedans were carried
around inside the circle the crowd had formed. Burning incense poured
out of the sedans and left the air heavy with acrid smoke. It all
seemed incredibly "shamanistic" and very exciting. Even
for a heathen like myself, I was intrigued to see what would happen
next...
We were shooed away from the stages and ushered onto the street where
we watched the sedans come out and form a procession in a haze of
sweet smoke, the clamour of gongs and drums and cymbals.
The
next part of the festivities was to gather by the water so that the
spirits could be safely returned to heaven. We jumped onto buses,
thick with the ever present incense smoke, and hopped off again, eyes
red and watering profusely, into a stormy night - complete with impressive
lightning and lots of "refreshing" rain.
We
crowded onto the grass by the water's edge and waited while more gongs
and cymbals crashed (along with the thunder which was only vaguely
louder) and the spirits were summoned.
Incense
sticks were handed out to the crowd and we stodd in the pouring rain,
dutifully waving them - much to the amusement of one of the devotees,
who noted what a funny-looking bunch we were, but laughed and encouraged
us nonetheless.
Suddenly,
it all went very quiet on the stage, at which point the priest may
have been "blood-writing", but the gong soon sounded again
and the sedans were back, twisting and whirling resplendent in red,
gold and flashing neon fairylights. They were closely followed by
a Chinese dragon whose appearance was brief (must have been the rain)
and we were hot on his heels (or should that be talons) having long
since turned into little icicles from the cold rain.
After
another bus ride and a very splashy walk through the city, we just
missed the train (despite a last minute, squelchy dash) but our trusty
leaders sorted out taxis for us and we were soon back at the hostel
for a cuppa and some chicken and rice.
It
was a fantastic night and a wicked experience and I would recommend
you take any opportunities to be a part of a similarly mad evening
- thanks Hai and Ping for making sure we didn't get run over, hit
by a flying sedan or trampled by the Chinese dragon!
Becky Whitlock -
5 October 2003