Page 179-189

Nanshan Buddhist culture and Hui Hui Village

We seek direction to Nanshan Guanyin Park from the receptionist before we head for an early lunch at eleven on Monday morning. Swiftly downing our meal, we wait in vain for half an hour to catch an unoccupied taxi. A passing trishaw approaches us. Disappointed, the rider advises us on an early start, an advice which turns out to be correct.

Built in 1988 to commemorate the two-thousand year history of Buddhism in China, the Nanshan Cultural Tourist Zone is forty kilometres from Sanya city centre and occupies an area of some forty square kilometres, which implies a long travelling time and long-distance walking, perhaps at least five or six kilometres.

Forsaking the cabs, we hop onto a No. 16 bus at a stand opposite our Huiyuan Henghe Hotel at twelve-fifteen mid-day. The small privately-operated bus, which is fairly crowded, has spent some good years along the country road. Its exterior is smudged with a fine patina of dust; its interior suggests an age of ten years or so. We pay the 8 RMB requested by the twenty-four year old conductor. We stand, oscillating as it bends around street corners on its way west along the Jiefang Road, which is renamed 225 National Road after passing Sanya Phoenix (Fenghuang) International Airport.

Inside a small bus to Nanshan
在一辆小公共汽车到南山

Not long after leaving downtown, some passengers alight, surrendering their seats. As we assume their places, our attention is diverted to a commotion in front. On the steps guarding the only doorway, the conductor is shouting, “Bu keyi, bu keyi” (“Cannot, cannot”). It takes a few seconds for us to comprehend the gravity of the problem: he is not permitting the old lady to board because she is ferrying a live cockerel by its tethered legs. Obviously, she has just bought it from the market and is returning home. When she attempts to argue her case, he again shouts angrily at her.

“Wo shuo bu keyi, shi bu keyi.” (Literally, it translates as: “When I say you cannot [board], you cannot.”)

She pleads with him. But in vain. He remains unmoved, barring the entrance with his puny body. The bus moves off. The boy continues counting his collection. Later, a lady gets off, carefully holding a white polyester bag. Its captive stirs slightly and makes a cracking noise, the whisper of an ill-fated hen. Jo and I turn to each other and smile. What a sensation! The first lady should have concealed her prospective dinner in a similar bag to prevent its watery dungs from fouling the floor or, worse, the seats.

Some buildings with Islamic calligraphy on their signboards and a Hui mosque slowly flash by. This mosque is probably the meeting place of the relatives of a former political leader of Malaysia. Abdullah Ahmad Badawi was anointed as Prime Minister in October 2003. Two months later, Hainan shot into regional prominence after news media in Singapore and Malaysia reported on the presence of his maternal relatives in Sanya. While his paternal grandfather was an Arab, Badawi’s maternal grandfather was a Hui. The six thousand or so Muslims living in Hui Hui village are descendants of merchants who had sailed from Persia, Saudi Arabia, and Vietnam more than three hundred years ago.

Sanya Muslim Square; the small Hui community lives in Hui Hui Village, Fenghuang Town
三亚穆斯林广场 (Sanya Musilin Guangchang); 小回族社区居住在凤凰镇回村

Hassan Salleh (Hah Su Chiang) and two of his three brothers migrated to Malaya during the mid-nineteenth century. Hassan Salleh had three wives and thirteen children. His daughter Kailan Hassan, from his third wife with whom he had six children, married Ahmad Badawi, the father of the future politician. Sanya’s interesting tie to Malaysia was discovered by an American researcher during the nineteen-eighties. Her informants on the Muslim community in Hainan were the grandsons of Hussin (Ha Hun San), the brother who remained in Hainan.

Madam Kailan’s seventy-eighth birthday celebration in December 2003 coincided with the Hari Raya festivity, which saw a joyful gathering of six hundred relatives of Hassan Salleh’s descendants. Also present were the Prime Minister’s two cousins - Hussin’s grandsons, who were pleasantly surprised to learn that their cousin is the government leader. One of them is also named Abdullah. Abdullah Badawi voluntarily relinquished power in April 2009.

Former Malaysian Prime Minister Abdullah Badawi’s maternal grandfather is a Hainan Hui
前马来西亚总理阿卜杜拉·巴达维的外公祖父是海南回族

As we drive past the local villages, my mind ponders: will Sanya, or Hainan, ever make a similar or greater direct or indirect contribution to the political life of another foreign country?

After a distance of about twenty-five kilometres, the bus turns into the car park of Tianya Haijiao. By now, all passengers, except the two of us, have dropped off. Astoundingly, the conductor notifies the termination of the service and refunds us 3 RMB each. We are flabbergasted. Hey, this is no way to treat a customer, I silently protest. What a strange experience – being booted out! He tells us to catch another bus from the sheltered stand facing the Tianya entrance. Not enough passengers are going to Nanshan Park near Yacheng town, another fifteen kilometres west.

Taxis waiting for passengers across Tianya Haijiao tourist sight
出租车等候乘客横跨天涯海角旅游视域

Upon our enquiry, a middle-aged couple kindly instructs us to flag a specific bus, the fare of which is 5 RMB each. While talking to us, they overlook their on-coming bus. We apologise profusely for causing them to miss their transport. They are very indulgent with us. “Bu yao jin” (“Not important” or “Never mind”), they graciously reply.

Waiting listlessly at an improvised resting shed behind the bus stop for their pre-arranged Tianya Haijiao or Nanshan visitors, some taxi drivers approach us, offering to take us to our destination for 100 RMB. We refuse. We wait. After fifteen minutes or so, one driver steps up and offers to take us for only 10 RMB. We are suspicious. Is he setting us up for a scam?

“10 RMB? Earlier, some of you quoted 100 RMB.” I query incredulously.

Yes, 10 RMB, he reassures us. He is going there to pick up his prepaid passengers. We are lucky! We thank the waiting couple for their earlier assistance. We travel the rest of the journey in comfort and in quick time.

Nanshan (Southern Mountain) is a place special to Buddhists. Since Guanyin Buddha’s second oath is to live permanently in the South Sea to evangelise the East, renowned Jiangsu-born Master Jianzhen (Ganjin to the Japanese, 689-763), who entered the monastery at the age of fourteen, religiously endeavoured to land in Japan after fervent requests from two Japanese monks. His first four sea trips were aborted: initially from internal dissension over piracy along the Chinese mainland coast, twice from shipwrecked by stormy sea, and then from a concerned disciple’s misguided action.

During his fifth attempt in 748, his boat from Yangzhou was blown far off-course by a typhoon. After sailing for about four weeks with two or three brief stops on the Hainan east coast, they finally landed in Zhenzhou (now Yacheng).

Jianzhen (Japanese: Ganjin; 689-763 A.D.) in Dongtian Park, 6 km NW of Nanshan
和尚大师鉴真 (日语: Ganjin; 公元 689-763) 雕象在洞天公园近南山公园

The four merchants, whom they had coincidentally met at one of the stops, had informed the Zhen Prefecture authorities about the encounter. Administrative Aide Feng Chongzhai (冯崇债) allotted four hundred soldiers to escort the pilgrims safely to town and lodged them in the Dayun Temple. The famous monk stayed at Nanshan for a year, rebuilding the collapsed main hall of the temple and preaching to the few thousand living in the district.

Later, the aide arranged more than eight hundred soldiers to escort the religious entourage on a forty-day trek to Wan’an Prefecture (now Wanning and Lingshui). As the crow flies, the distance is about a hundred kilometres, a journey which would take only two or three hours by bus today. But those were the days of unmapped slippy jungle tracks and hostile natives.

Feng Ruofang (冯若芳), the Wan’an Grand Staff Supervisor (大首領; Da Shouling; literally, Great Chieftain), entertained them for three days. The references to the two Fengs arouse my curiosity: are they related to Feng Ang? Are they related to me? My journey to Nanshan deepens my interest in Hainanese history. These two names were preserved in the record of Jianzhen’s fascinating maritime adventures composed first by his Chinese disciple in three volumes (jun). Unfortunately, over time they were lost. Fortunately, however, an abbreviation by Jianzhen’s Japanese disciple survived.

Later perusing the family-tree chart in Wang Xing-rui’s 1984 book 冼夫人与冯氏家族 (Xian Furen yu Feng shi jia zu; Lady Xian and the Feng clan), I discover that Feng Ruofang and Feng Chongzhai are descendants of Feng Ang. Both brothers are possibly his great-grandsons through one of his three unnamed sons. In the helpful guide, five other sons are named. According to the New Tang History (新唐书; Xin Tang Shu; literally, New Tang Book), Feng Ang has thirty sons.

Interestingly, another of Feng Ang’s great-grandson is Feng Yuanyi, better known as imperial eunuch Gao Lishi, who died in his seventies in 762. Feng Ang’s three well-known descendants were thus contemporaries, two in Hainan while the other in Chang’an and Luoyang, the Tang co-capitals.

Feng Ruofang and Feng Chongzhai (8th C Hainan officials) and Gao Lishi (Feng Yuanyi)
were Tang general Feng Ang’s descendants

冯若芳, 冯崇债, 和高力士 (本名: 冯元一) 是唐总冯盎的后代

To his consternation, Jianzhen saw that Supervisor Feng had enriched himself by plundering two or three Persian merchant ships annually and making slaves of their crew. If the pirate is related to me, then I might have some Feng swashbuckling genes! The heisted sapanwoods were piled up behind his backyard like a small mountain, the pious monk grieved. When entertaining guests, he added, Feng would burn more than one hundred catties of frankincense to release their fragrance.

Feng’s territory took five days to walk from east to west and three days from north to south. His villages were filled with his slaves. Jianzhen and his groups were safely escorted to the next prefecture, and they finally sailed to Leizhou for their overland journey home.

On his sixth attempt, the sixty-six year old monk, now blind after the improper treatment of an eye infection during the fifth voyage, succeeded in setting foot in Kyushu with many disciples, craftsmen, Buddhist scriptures, and statues of Guanyin. Moving to the capital Nara, he established the Toshodaiji temple in 759.

Like Jianzhen, Japanese monk Kukai (Chinese: Konghai, 774-835) also landed temporarily at Nanshan - according to local tradition - when his ship was similarly blown off-course on his way to China in 804. After studying in China, he returned and became the founder of the Shingon school of Buddhism.

At the entrance to Nanshan Tourism Zone is a huge crowd, which we do not expect on a Monday. But it should not be surprising because within the Nanshan Tourism Zone are three theme parks: the Buddhist Cultural Centre, the Cultural Park, and the Felicity and Longevity Culture Park. Their focus on the Buddhist culture, multi-culture of Hainan people, and culture of peace and longevity attempts to satisfy the curiosity and inclinations of all pilgrims and tourists. Indeed, many Europeans are here. Other theme parks within this huge zone are under planning, which should attract even more people when completed. Devoted to publicising the cultural life in Hainan, the park boasts a gigantic Guanyin goddess.

Although slightly expensive, the 150-RMB entry fee and 20-RMB ride on the resort passenger cart is priceless in value, as no effort was spared by the provincial government in making this park one of most beautiful places in China to leave an indelible impression on visitors.

The ground in front of the entrance is spacious, large enough to accommodate hundreds of them. In the centre is a circular bed of dark-red flowers. Between this bed and the entrance is a tall green hedge that runs around a huge boulder darkened with age. Engraved on the slightly round rock is the name of the park. Lining the sides of the litter-free ground are many coconut trees, ornamental palms, and Chinese stone garden lanterns.

High and symmetrical, the entrance facade is imposing. Standing afar, I perceive a brown saddle. Or, on second thought, is it a barren ridge that has two peaks? Contributing to this ambiguity are ten tall “towers” of varying heights, five on each side of the entrance. Above the entrance is an overhead “bridge”, which forms the “valley” between the two peaks. The “bridge” and “towers” have traditional straight-inclined tiled roofs of dark-brown colour.

On the “bridge” is painted the inscription 二不 (er bu). Read from right to left, “bu er” baffles me. Is it “Not Two” or “Not Second”? Does it advise “Consistency” and the goal of becoming the Number One? Since the pamphlet calls this gateway the Dharma-Door of Non-Duality, it becomes apparent to the non-Buddhists as well that the phrase means “Not Two”, in other words, “Non-duality”, non-division. This is verified by the characters 實一 (shi yi) on the other side of the pailou. “One-ness” (yi) or “unity” of all living beings is “reality” (shi).

The non-duality principle of Buddhism is reflected on the panels
佛教的非二元性原则反映在面板上

In Buddhist teaching, our journey in life passes through many doors, each bringing us closer to nirvana, or enlightenment. The Dharma-Door is the last. Going through brings us there, it is said. Conveying the same message are two huge drawings on the tallest tower walls flanking the entrance. Each rectangular light-blue wall depicts a hand displaying its palm with the upright thumb and the middle finger horizontally holding the stalk of a light-purple lotus. Its ring finger is parallel to the middle finger while the index and last fingers are also upright, pointing to the sky. This is the “Lion gesture”, symbolic of the final juncture of enlightenment. Purity and spirituality is again reflected by the light-purple lotus petals and their white background.

Behind the entrance, people are milling around small shops along the mall, sifting through the trinkets on offer. These shops are shaded by the evergreen pinnate fronds of coconut trees. We are in pursuit of spirituality, not materialism! Our attention is, however, directed at a six-metre high bush, aesthetically pruned into a peacock proudly exhibiting his bright-green fan-tail. Surrounded by a low hedge, he plays among several stunted palms and is a favourite mascot for photographers composing pictures of their families. The care the designers took in incorporating this simple arborist trick foreshadows the exciting architecture that awaits us further inside.

“Huge” is not an exaggeration. Trishaw Operator from downtown is right. We need to start early. Our walk from the entrance to the plinth of the one hundred and eight metre-high bronze Guanyin deity is a distance of about a kilometre. Fortunately, many Buddhistic and non-Buddhistic features along the walkway divert our attention from our physical infirmity.

The Nanshan Cultural Park is huge; tall pillars or stambhas bearing Buddhistic teachings
南山文化公园是巨大的; 佛教在高柱子刻记

Placed between two small bright-red buildings is a row of six white statues in the motion of hoisting flags up the three flag poles. Of varying heights from one metre to two metres, they attract us with their delightful postures and under-size bodies. Pulling the rope of the middle pole are two monks standing while one of the two side pairs is standing and the other is kneeing. With big rotund faces of adult monks, their child-like contracted bodies are comical caricatures, which evoke broad smiles from us.

Beside them is a white stone platform of about nine square metres. On each corner stands a white stone pillar four metres high with bas relief of a swirling white dragon. Firmly securing the pillars upright, the four white slender horizontal bars binding their tops are carved with wavy leaves and flowers. In the centre of the platform is a giant tortoise bearing a lotus flower on her shell. Around her are her twelve baby tortoises in various stages of development. One is emerging from its egg. In Buddhism, the lotus symbolises purity while the tortoise symbolises longevity. All statues are painted in white, suggestive of purity. Drawn towards them, a little girl goes to sit on one.

White statues of tortoises and comical people
草龟和可笑的人民白色雕象

In front of a red building, a copper statue stands on a square stone pedestal. We approach. The robe of the life-size bald young man, who is holding a long pilgrim staff in his right hand and a string of prayer beads in his left, is showing signs of ageing. A green patina, the result of oxidation, protects the underlying copper structure. The holy man is smiling but his eyes are shut. His ears are long, a Buddhist symbol of wisdom. On the plaque is his name: 弘法大師空海和尚 (Hongfa dashi Konghai heshang; The Grand Master Propagating Buddhism, Monk Konghai). So this is the Japanese monk in search of Buddhism in China. The signboard on the memorial building behind him says: 密法歸華堂 (Mifa Gui Hua Tang). Literally, it means “Secret Law Returning to China Hall”. Kukai taught an esoteric strand of Buddhism.

Inscription: “The Grand Master Propagating Buddhism, Monk Konghai”
题词：“弘法大師空海和尚” (Hongfa dashi Konghai heshang)

Bridges over a running creek, cosy yellow-roofed pavilions for tired tourists along the long cream-tiled path, shops discretely behind the pavilions, and manicured beds of blooming flowers, palms, and trees are arresting welcomed interruptions to our long walk. In front of us, more than a hundred people are heading in the same direction - towards the white Guanyin, which seems to be standing on a huge open palm. As we close in, we detect a distance between Guanyin and the sky-facing palm of compassion. The artistic park planners have successfully tricked us with an educational illusion: what we perceive may not be real.

From afar, Guanyin appears to be standing on an open palm
从远处看，观音似乎站在一个开放的手掌上

Illusion? Reality? Guanyin is a female bodhisattva, an enlightened being who has delayed her own nirvana in order to ameliorate human suffering. She is the “Bodhisattva of Great Compassion”. But in Tibetan and Indian Mahayana Buddhism, the bodhisattva of compassion is Avalokiteshvara, a male. So is the bodhisattva of compassion a male or female? Which is the reality? My mind is giddy. Including its thirty-metre high pedestal, this second tallest statue in China, and fourth tallest in the world, is fifteen metres taller than the ninety-three metre Statue of Liberty and is situated on a small artificial island connected with a causeway two hundred and eighty metres in length.

With a golden halo behind her head, Sanya Guanyin looks down, her eyes meeting ours. She smiles. She is young, in her late thirties or early forties. Oval and slightly plump, her face has a flawless complexion. Her white gown, clinging and flowing with the contours of her slim body, transmutes her into an oriental Virgin Mary. Without her accessories, she could be mistaken for the latter. On her headdress is a small icon of the sitting Buddha. Gently cradling a golden sutra like a baby in her left hand, the goddess shows the Vitarka Mudra (“gesture of discussion”) with her right. The tips of her thumb and index finger are joined to form a circle and her other fingers are straightened. The palm of her hand, placed in front of her sternum, is facing us as if saying: three (or is it thirty?) things you must remember from this sutra that I am holding.

108-metre high Guanyin Bodhisattva is one of the tallest statues in the world
108米高观音菩萨雕象是其中一个最高的雕象在世界上

Constituted of a strong white alloy that can resist typhoons with wind force of about one hundred and sixty kilometres per hour, goddess Guanyin stands on three tiers of budding lotus flowers. From our position, we can only see their open brown sepals, made apparently of bronze. On each sepal are some Chinese characters, which are barely legible. Supporting these tiers of flowers and Guanyin is the pedestal, which - on closer inspection - houses a huge hall. On its front external facade are four Buddhistic bas-reliefs. The doors into the hall are shut.

Above the entrance hangs a long orange-coloured cloth banner on which are embroidered some pink and red lotus flowers in open bloom and four Chinese characters in yellow. Before the entrance is a long altar table covered with a plain yellow cloth. Two small Guanyin replicas stand, one in front of the other, with bordering bronze receptacles of lotus flowers in full bloom. The altar table is a barricade; for a small admission fee is charged to access Guanyin’s closer aura.

Pedestal of the Goddess Guanyin statue; altar table nearby
女神观音雕象的基座; 祭台附近

To our amazement, a European lady, a Russian, in her forties stands before Guanyin, closes her eyes, and bows her head. Wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of faded-blue jeans, she then reverentially holds a yellow Buddhist sash with her two raised outspread hands. She is whispering, expressing her supplication or thanksgiving to the silent goddess. The silk band, which she has just bought from the stalls, has some Chinese characters and name-seal marks. Its border is printed with tiny right-facing swastikas, the ancient Hindu and Buddhist symbol signifying eternity. Some Chinese smile in amusement; some are puzzled.

“Can a European be Buddhist?” They seem to be asking.

Behind the sacrosanct icon’s resplendent facet which gazes inland are two similar others, hidden from those of us standing on the causeway. Looking towards the sea and its horizon, they are visible to leisure-seekers in a boat or from the beach. The second facet depicts her with her hands crossing in front of her body, her left hand gently placed on top of her right which is holding a long string of prayer beads that meets the helm of her gown. The third depicts her holding a lotus in her right hand while her left hand makes a Vitarka Mudra gesture. We have no time to see them.

Neither do we have time to taste the vegetarian buffet at the restaurant. We have sampled vegetarian dishes in the Kong Ming Shan temple in Singapore. Despite their disavowal of meat consumption, some Buddhists could not suppress their craving! Tofu is processed to shapes and colours like pork. Vegetarian “char-siew” (barbeque pork)! At a stall near the Guanyin statue, a Hainanese youth is taking care of the gong-striking (at 100 RMB per strike). We converse in Hainanese. Thrilled to find a fellow Hainanese from overseas, he offers me a complimentary VCD which presents a brief history of Nanshan as well as some dance performances.

Vegetarian restaurant in the basement; complimentary DVD
地下室的素食餐馆; 免费DVD

Nanshan Temple (南山寺; Nanshan Si) takes its name from the Buddhist expression: 福如东海, 寿比南山 (Fu ru Dong Hai, shou bi Nan Shan). It means: “May you have happiness as vast as the East Sea; and may you live as long as the Southern Mountain”. Sure, we will live a long life after our long walk - a kilometre - from the Dharma-door entrance to goddess Guanyin.

Waiting near goddess Guanyin for the resort passenger cart, camouflaged as a train, to take them to Thirty-three Guanyin Hall (三十三觀音堂; San shi san Guanyin Tang), the winding queue of people deters us from joining in. Little do we realise that the walking distance is a kilometre or so!

“train” to Thirty-three Guanyin Hall
电动观光代步车去三十三观音堂

When we reach the hall, I am so exhausted that my feeble legs refuse to mount its flight of stairs to appreciate the thirty-three Guanyin statues displayed within. The centrepiece is the 4.3-metre “Chenglong Guanyin”. The other surrounding pieces average about half its height.

From the beach near the hall, we clearly discern the second facet of magnificent Guanyin. With me incapable of enduring further physical exertion, we begin retracing the long route to the Dharma-door gateway. Another agonising kilometre!

The other two facets of the Guanyin statue can be seen from a boat or a distance
观音雕像的另外两个面可以从船或距离看到

On the large black panel above the front door of Gold and Jade Guanyin Pavilion is a stylish rendition of the golden jade statue’s name in traditional Chinese: 金玉觀世音 (Jin yu Guanshiyin). “Guanshiyin” (literally, “Observing the cry of the world”) is the actual epithet of the Bodhisattva. But it has been commonly abbreviated to the familiar name.

This pavilion is unusual; several bronze Tibetan prayer wheels are on the courtyard verandah, which is decorated with long strips of attractive bright-yellow cloth. As its name implies, the pavilion exhibits a very precious statue of Guanyin. At a height of 3.8 metres, the goddess is manufactured from one hundred kilograms of gold and one hundred kilograms of jade, and is liberally studded with gemstones like diamond, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, turquoise, and pearls. Not only is it worth at least 192 million RMB; it also contains an invaluable “sarira” or relic of Buddha Sakyamuni.

Gold and Jade Guanyin Pavilion
金玉观世音馆

Dragon-Phoenix Ink-stone (龙砚) is the largest ink-stone in the world. Measuring ten metres long and one and a half metres high, this slab of rock, resting precariously on a pile of boulders in the middle of a small pool, weighs thirty-six tonnes. Purplish-brown in colour, its border is flanked with the intertwining bodies of dragons. An ink-stone is one of the “Four Treasures of the Study” of an artist or writer, the other three being the brush, paper, and ink.

Traditionally made from slate, the typically small hand-size paraphernalia, usually in rectangular or circular shape, has a depression at one end to hold water for moistening an ink-stick, a solidified piece of ink, which is then grinded on the slightly rough surface of the ink-stone to produce ink. The best ink-stones are reportedly made from the slates of Duanxi in Guangdong and Shexian in Anhui. Etched on many are exquisite reliefs like birds, dragons, flowers, phoenixes, and trees to inspire creativity.

Numerous Buddhist statues can be seen in the park
许多佛教雕像可以在公园看到

Throughout the park, we are entertained with sculptures of tortoises, elephants in various postures, a pipa player, and monks. A gaunt elderly Great Master Hui Guo (惠果大师; Hui Guo dashi) is sitting by the side of the pool. Just before his death in late 805, the fifty-nine year old teacher briefly met Kukai and transmitted the Supreme Law to the thirty-one year old disciple after the latter’s intensive initiation. The master’s hands are clasped together, fingers interlocking. Behind him is a young attendant. This is what Kukai reported:

“As soon as he saw me, the abbot [Hui Guo] smiled, and said with delight, ‘Since learning of your arrival, I have waited anxiously. How excellent, how excellent that we have met at last! My life is ending soon, and yet I have no more disciples to transmit the Dharma. Prepare without the offerings of incense and flowers for your entry into the abhiseka mandalas [Womb and Diamond Realms].’”

Great Buddhist Master Hui Guo
惠果大师

Despite the short period of less than four hours, we have gone to several interesting sights. A full day is ideal. But we are contented. Although the gate closes at eight in the evening, we decide to leave early. As we walk out, I recollect the popularity of Buddhism during its early history in ancient China. In the south alone, one thousand seven hundred monasteries were flourishing by the end of the fifth century, their expanding wealth and portfolio of properties largely bequeathed by devout followers.

Resentments, accumulated over the centuries, finally led to an imperial decree in 845 commanding the destruction of forty thousand temples and the defrocking of 260,500 monks and nuns.

Some buses are waiting for passengers. We are fortunate. The one to Sanya downtown is full. It is perhaps the last departing bus. The fare is 8 RMB each. Jo gets a seat while I am sitting on the flat platform near the driver. Those boarding later are standing. Along the route, the conductress shouts the destination to passengers at bus stops. She is trying to squeeze more people; some board. Fortunately, the man on the front seat gets off at a hotel along the Coconut Corridor, leaving me his seat.

After an hour’s journey, we are just in time for dinner at six in downtown.