The ferry, at its choppiest, jumped the rippled channel towards Lantau Island as I, and my four cohorts, made our way to see what was apparently the world's tallest outdoor, seated Buddha statue, otherwise known as the Tian Tan Buddha. Having never actually seen any visual of Buddha standing nor in any sort of action pose, the term "seated Buddha" seemed somewhat redundant to me. It was also interesting that a distinction was made between sitting and standing likenesses of Buddhism’s founder in a way that I’ve never heard when describing various renditions of, say, Jesus. There must be a few rare examples of Buddha actually having to stand up at some point that the need for the distinction arose. But, if Tian Tan was the largest seated and outdoor Buddha, how many more are there?
While the Buddha continued to sit, we climbed. Upon disembarking the ferry, we boarded a bus, driven just a bit overzealously up the winding mountain roads with scant regard for things like oncoming traffic, sharp turns and spinal health. What made the ride seem more hazardous was the British style of driving on the left, a relic escaping the city-state's rapid Chinese makeover, as the left side of the bus seemed to almost hug the mountains.
From what I've read, about 80% of Hong Kong is surprisingly green, if you take into account the many islands making up the so-called Hong Kong Special Administrative Region. Being able to scurry away from the compressed urbanity of Hong Kong Island to the hills and lonely beaches of Lantau must be a welcoming distraction for the average resident. Barreling up the seemingly country roads, I found it hard to believe that the other side of Lantau island is where one of Asia’s busiest international airports lives. So does Hong Kong Disneyland; always denoted on road signs with nothing more than the famous Mickey Mouse silhouette.
The end of the road came a few hair-raising turns later, and we found ourselves in a parking lot, shrouded in dense fog. The Buddha nor anything else within ten feet was visible. The five of us; Welled, Geg, Jeff, Riggs and myself, made three-hundred-sixty degree inquiries, trying to understand how a 250-ton bronze statue could be completely hidden.
Eventually, we did find the absurdly long stairway leading up to the statue, conveniently about ten feet behind us. Most religions require a physically challenging pilgrimage. The Tian Tan Buddha was no different. The 268-step climb to reach his crossed legs proved he was a vengeful god. I couldn’t complain too loudly, however, as the very fit Geg, who still came to China despite a broken foot, amazingly hopped up every step on the other one. Truly a miracle!
Clearly — or unclearly — it was a bad day to have visited the Buddha at all. But our time in Hong Kong was limited and the photos in our travel guide, shot on a bright sunny day of course, had made it seem all the more alluring. In actuality, though, once the summit had been reached, all that fog had made His Bigness plenty alluring. Even standing just underneath him, the only thing visible was the faint outline of his upraised right hand and half of his head. The effect was an almost mystical one; a divine presence, slightly obscured by an opaqueness that the faithful might associate with heaven or an afterlife. Certainly that notion proved far more interesting than the museum housed beneath the Buddha’s posterior.
Throughout the course of the month I spent in China, I saw many more versions of Buddha in ever larger sizes. The Lama Temple in Beijing had a stunning three-story Buddha, carved out of an entire piece of white sandalwood. It was an impressive thing or so claimed the Guinness Book of World Records plaque affixed to the outside of the temple affirming that nothing else on earth made of one piece of white sandalwood is bigger.
Because of the many layers of robes the Buddha at the Lama Temple was wearing, I wasn’t sure if he was standing or sitting. The overwhelming majority of the countless Buddha incarnations we saw in Tibet were sitting quite comfortably. Likewise, so were the hundreds of thousands of Buddha-in-miniature weighing down the vendor tables occupying every corner and crevice all over China.
After all my amateur field research I can only infer that as far as religious deities go, Buddha just wasn’t one of the more active ones. Standing may have been something he did in private, when his adherents weren’t looking. I suppose being a god means never having to get up from your perch if you didn’t want to. This might explain the need for so many monks.
The nighttime ferry back to Hong Kong Island was even more turbulent but seemed to go quicker than the advertised fifty minutes. We were exhausted and hungry and there was definitely a reassuring feeling about seeing Hong Kong outlined in the neon lights the town is famous for. It took us almost two hours of wandering around and through the densely interconnected concrete skyways to find dinner. Besides beer and nourishment, most of all, I think we just wanted to sit down for a while.
I learn a lot from this story.
Posted by: jobs online | August 12, 2011 at 06:35 AM