In the heart of Davao Buddhist traditions
Saturday, January 28, 2012
ALONG the busy Quirino Avenue is a high-fenced property with the distinctive arched rooftop – the Polian Temple. And since it was the Chinese New Year, fellow ukay-basher Kenneth Ong was apparently going to visit and posted an open invitation in his Facebook account.
I’ve never been to a Chinese temple in Davao City and so I snatched the opportunity.
Who wants to go? Me!
We entered through the kitchen gate as everyone apparently enters (I guess it was more convenient since it was busiest at the kitchen and thus a knock would easily be heard and anyone can just reach out to open the kitchen gate, while ringing the doorbell by the main gate would mean someone from the kitchen will have to drop whatever he/she was doing to open this other gate, which is a distance away.
From what Kenneth and his mom said, Polian (blessed flower, aka Lotus) has a special place in the hearts of all Dabawenyos of Chinese descent who have been here for decades now. That is because it is the oldest Buddhist temple in the city, and it was built by lay people – settlers who want to have a place to worship but have found none.
It was built through the efforts of the Chinese community led by Lim Pi in the 1960s and has since been the refuge for prayers of Davao Buddhists, and even the Christianized ones who have grown up running around the small manicured garden of the temple.
Like any Buddhist temple, there were the two kidney shaped wood that you will hold in each hand and drop to see if you have the permission to go ahead and shake the container full of bamboo sticks, to seek guidance from the centuries old wisdom of the Buddha.
You’re supposed to hold both wood and drop them. For you to have access to the guiding words of the Buddha, one wood should fall on its back and the other should fall in an upright position. If both wooden pieces fall on their back, then it means you’re not supposed to go for the bamboo sticks, but that you have reason to be happy. For what? I don’t know.
Just be happy. For the two wooden pieces to fall upright means you do not have permission to seek guidance yet. Nope, and please don’t touch the sticks.
Now on to the sticks. There are over a hundred of them, each with a corresponding number, that you will shake on its bamboo holder, creating a distinct noise like that of someone winnowing rice except that it’s louder. One stick, and only one, should fall off from all that rhythmic shaking, and the number on that stick will have a corresponding counsel from the small cabinets of wise words.
“Among these wise words are those that castigate,” Kenneth’s mom said, words for those who insist on a request when good counsel has already been given.
The visit was capped with a vegetarian lunch of noodles (two kinds, bihon and miki), tofu and cabbage soup, and a dessert of ube sticks and galapong (sticky rice balls) in tangerine sauce, which Kenneth says is only served every Chinese New Year. (Sticky rice for togetherness and tangerine for good fortune. Kung Hei Fat Choi!)
The temple is still being taken care of by Mrs. Lim’s descendants, second and third generation now, and a prayer room stands right beside the temple in memory of the woman who gathered all Buddhist believers in Davao together to build a place of refuge and prayers that has served them for three generations now.
