For the previous installment of Shaolin Trips, see Shaolin Trips: Immortal Shaolin: The Past, Present and Future of Kung Fu.
It’s been 20 years since I’ve been to Shaolin Temple. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d ever go back. There are so many places on my bucket list, and now my bucket is one of those pointed leaking ones that the Shaolin monks used for conditioning. Got to carry that water up to the cistern before it all leaks out. I have already been to Shaolin seven times prior to this trip and there are so many other places in the world that I still hope to see.
In 2020, I was thinking of going back. That year marked the anniversary of my master’s school and several of us disciples were just starting to plan to go back together, when the pandemic hit. That felt like it was my last chance.
But it wasn’t. Far from it.
Shaolin Summons
When the first south for those Continental Games, which was as far as I followed it. It was a great chapter in the ongoing saga of Shaolin, but I had to get back to the default world.
The next chapter that was even closer to home, right in my backyard, my literal turf. At our very own Tiger Claw Elite KungFuMagazine Championships, we hosted the first USA National Shaolin Kung Fu Games.
We started the Songshan Shaolin Championship division there back in 2011, and to see it transform into an official Shaolin Kung Fu Games was utterly affirming.
But to get to the last chapter of this inaugural Shaolin Games volume, I would have to go back to Song Mountain. I would have to return to Shaolin Temple for the World Shaolin Kung Fu Games.
This year was already insanely busy for me. However, just a few weeks out, I secured my plane tickets, and karma opened a gap for me. I was scheduled to work at two major music festivals just before the trip and they both collapsed. It was as if the universe was making room for me to return.
I planned to ride the coattails (cassock tails?) of the North America Shaolin Team after their tour landed at the gateway to Shaolin, Dengfeng city. Their China journey began in Beijing where they hit some famous tourist sites. I could not get that much time off – besides I’ve seen those before and didn’t want to go back in sweltering July – so I had to catch them in Dengfeng.
But first, I wanted to go to Luohe.
What’s in Luohe? My master, Shi Decheng is now there. Way back in 1996, he accepted me as his disciple, gave me the Shaolin name Xinglong (行龙), and brought me into the clan. That changed the course of my life. The Shaolin saga became a pivotal part of my career. I could not visit Shaolin and not see him, even though he was miles away.
Luohe is a city of 2.3 million, about 180 miles (290 km) south of Zhengzhou. Zhengzhou is the capital of Henan Province, a major metropolis with a population of 12.6 million. Whether you come by plane or train, Zhengzhou is the way to Dengfeng. If Henan was a clockface, Zhengzhou would be at the center, Luohe would be at six o’clock and Dengfeng would be about eight. Dengfeng is just over 80 miles (130 km) from Zhengzhou with a modest population of 717,000 (nearly double of what it was when I was last there in 2014). There’s a ‘straighter’ way to go directly to Dengfeng from Luohe, the hypotenuse of the three cities, but Zhengzhou’s high-speed rail makes it more efficient to go back to Zhengzhou and then get a ride to Dengfeng.
From Zhengzhou and Dengfeng to Luohe
Decheng was my teacher on my very first Shaolin trip in 1995 and we instantly bonded. Back then, he was working at the Shaolin Wushuguan, where he started when it launched in 1988. The Wushuguan was a special Shaolin facility in Dengfeng, originally designed to cater to foreign students. Eventually Decheng moved on to establish his own independent Dengfeng school, which I visited in 2003. But that year I missed him. He was travelling abroad as he often does, so I only got to stand at the door and peek in.
Later, he had a second Dengfeng school, one designed to be more accessible to foreign students because he had a lot of those. The first Wushuguan monks toured the globe with demonstration shows and taught as the first Shaolin global emissaries. Through this, Decheng garnered countless international friends and students, so having a foreigner friendly school was a healthy option for him.
Just prior to the pandemic, the Dengfeng government leadership shifted, and consequently, its policies. A new edict was passed that only allowed landowners to run schools there, which is ironic considering Shaolin’s relationship to Buddhism and landowning. Most all the smaller schools, those with only a thousand students or so, were pushed out. They either closed, relocated, or were absorbed by one the larger still standing schools like Taguo, Epo or Chen Xiaolong’s school (several said that Taguo has 30,000 full time students now). Twenty years ago, when I wrote a cover story on Decheng, there was about eighty registered martial arts schools in Dengfeng (and Taguo had only 13,000 students – only 13,000!) Now only a handful of schools remain. Decheng rented his space, so he was among those who had to leave.
Luohe welcomed Decheng with open arms. His new school was founded right when the pandemic struck in 2020, but despite the difficult start, it is thriving now. I emailed my Shifu when first contemplating this Shaolin trip, and much to my delight, he would be around when I would be there. He was returning from a European teaching tour that spanned over two months on July 4th. I arrived on the 10th.
Flying into Zhengzhou Xinzheng International Airport was my first sign that China had grown in my 20-year absence. Xinzheng’s IATA code is CGO, based on the pre-pinyin romanization of Zhengzhou, which was Chengchow. The last time I went through CGO, it was a tiny airport where we had to walk the tarmac to board the plane. Now, after several expansions, it’s a massive terminal, on par with any international airport. It has soaring bold architecture, and all the modern amenities.
After over 24+ hours in transit, I was delighted to see one of Decheng’s students at the gate welcoming me with a sign that said ‘XingLong.’
As we sped towards Luohe, many of the street signs read ‘Wuhan.’ Hold the phone. Where was I going again? As it turns out, Luohe is on the way to Wuhan from Zhengzhou. However, Wuhan is 376 km (233 miles) from Luohe. That seemed like enough distance between me and the cradle of Covid.
Shaolin Decheng Wuguan 少林德成武馆
I arrived at the Shaolin Decheng Wuguan in the afternoon. Despite my exhaustion, seeing my master again was totally invigorating. The last time we saw each other was just prior to the pandemic when he visited California. Again, Shaolin had come to me.
Decheng gave me a tour of his magnificent school. Set in an area close to the Shenzhou Bird Park, the immediate neighborhood has ancient architecture that lends itself to the traditional feel of Decheng’s school. There’s a small waterway that passes nearby like some time-honored mansion. The wuguan (literally ‘martial hall’) is three stories and fully loaded with amenities. The main floor is for Kung Fu practice with heavy bags, a central sanda mat, and assorted weapons scattered in the corners. It’s spacious with a soaring ceiling that goes all the way up to the roof. It also has the reception lobby, an office, and bathrooms. The second and third stories ring around the main floor space so it can be seen from the encircling hallways. The second floor is divided into multiple rooms, each serving a different function. There’s a Tai Chi room, a Chan meditation hall, two regular scholastic classrooms for children’s regular education, a music study room, a calligraphy study room, a cafeteria and kitchen, an elegant dining room for special occasions, and a room dedicated to tea service, a.k.a. gongfu cha (功夫茶). There are also lockers, showers, temperature controlling air filters, purified water dispensers with temperature control (for tea), dorm rooms with bunk beds for guests, and wifi. It’s like a fantasy dream school, completely self-contained, the sort of facility that any master might wish for. And the third floor is still under construction, ready for even more expansion.
Decheng keeps a staff of eight coaches and administrators beyond himself, including Kai Li, who has been his longtime head instructor. There are about 60 regular students, local kids. Unlike in Dengfeng where the wuguans are like boarding schools, all Decheng’s pupils go home after class.
And he welcomes his foreign students to visit. Five of Decheng’s longtime students from France were training there when I visited. I was honored when he introduced me with a photo of me and Gigi Oh with the Abbot from his aforementioned November visit that he had saved on his phone. I had not mentioned that article to him, but he pointed out that I was wearing his school shirt, a deliberate gesture to represent him. He gave me a very gratifying nod about that. Decheng expected some 30 foreign students to visit over the course of this month. Beyond me and the French group, he expected students from Finland, Switzerland and Germany.
I got to share a nice meal at the school with Decheng and his French students. It was delightful. None of us spoke the others’ language fluently, and as is often the case with my master, we bounced through multiple languages to get our points across. Decheng is particularly fond of Italian, so words like ‘tranquillo’ and ‘finito’ are part of the regular vernacular for us Decheng students. The French were kind to help Decheng and me with proper pronunciation of ‘bon’ and we reciprocated with pronunciation of various English and Chinese terms.
Decheng gave us all a lesson on how to properly roll a Peking duck pancake, joking that it was actually ‘Luohe Beijing duck.’ On my first trip to China in 1991, I first landed in Beijing and sampled this legendary dish. I’ve had it many times, almost every time I passed through Beijing, and I never learned Decheng’s proper rolling technique. This Luohe Beijing duck had an egg alternative for those not eating duck (Shaolin is Buddhist after all).
The Golden Phoenix
I would have been content to sleep in one of the school dorm rooms, but Decheng’s staff had set up my lodging. It had been over 48 hours since I had left my doorstep, and while I slept on the flight, I was exhausted and could sleep just about anywhere. I was astounded that they set me up at the Jin Feng Huang Hotel, a 4-star establishment that is just a short walk from Decheng’s school, across from the Bird Park. Jin Feng Huang translates as ‘Golden Phoenix,’ and that motif tastefully adorns every corner of the hotel.
I remember when a Chinese 4-star hotel was mediocre at best, but not anymore. This place was posh. P. O. S. H. POSH! The room was fully equipped with all the amenities, a rain shower, high grade products in the bathroom, plenty of Luohe tourist information, even fresh fruit, complimentary Biluochun (Pi Lo Chun 碧螺春) green tea, and matches with an ashtray.
There was also a complimentary folding fan. In July, Luohe was in the mid-80s with over 80% humidity, so that fan was a thoughtful extra. Just last month, we stayed at the Paris in Las Vegas to see Dead & Co at the Sphere (the Sphere is something more to put on your bucket list too, but I digress). Vegas has its share of opulent hotels, and the Paris is no dive by any measure, but the Golden Phoenix blew that hotel out of the water with its attention to detail and gratuitous extravagances. It was a long way from chasing rats out of my room at the Wushuguan dorm.
One of the tourist brochures advertised a local delicacy at an historic restaurant named (and this is their translation) Large tree flesh of a donkey shop. It specializes in traditional medicinal donkey dishes. Yum?
Nevertheless, the hotel breakfast buffet was amazing. I forgot how good a Chinese breakfast buffet can be. There were so many exotic veggies I didn’t recognize. Some just looked like steamed weeds but it were oh so tasty. Plus, there were lots of sneaky peppers to wake me up. There was also a lot of this local specialty ham sausage too (but abstained from that). I ate way too many scallion pancakes and egg custard tarts. I was going to walkabout a bit before meeting Shifu but after stuffing my face, I just rested and digested.
Later, I took a short lesson from Decheng on two of the first forms he taught me: Baduanjin and Xiaohongquan. I was dizzy from travel and depleted from the sweltering heat, but at least I didn’t fall on my butt. Decheng gave me a few pointers on both, which was just enough. I wasn’t nearly at my best, but I couldn’t come all the way to his school and not practice, even if it was just a little.
Lunch was served in the formal dining room. Again, the French joined us. Again, it was so joyful. Shaolin brings people together in a special way. We had representatives from Asia, America, and Europe, thoroughly enjoying each other’s company without speaking each other’s languages. How ‘tranquillo.’
After lunch, I bid the French students ‘bon voyage’ trying my best to pronounce ‘bon’ properly. They wouldn’t return to the school until the evening, and I was bound to that Zhengzhou high-speed train in hopes of catching up to the North American team for dinner in Dengfeng. Before I left, Decheng had a quick errand, and his staff was away, so for a fleeting moment I was left alone at the Wuguan to ruminate on how far I’d come to be there. As I sat in front of an air filter fan, once again digesting a bigger meal than I intended to eat, I marveled at everything that brought me to that present moment.
Decheng had one last offering for me before I left. He invited me to gongfu cha. The Shaolin monks has wrecked me for tea. Many monks cultivate tea as a practice. In Buddhism, particularly Chan, we say ‘cha chan yi wei (茶禪一味)’ – ‘tea and zen have one taste.’ Theirs is a certain awakening that can happen when practicing the art of Chinese tea, whether it be in the subtle shifts in the tea’s flavor with each successive infusion, or the ‘tranquillo’ conversation it can stimulate. My shifu poured a lovely pu-erh tea and accompanied it with some fresh Swiss chocolate wafers he had acquired on his recent European tour.
But then I had to go. It was all too short, but Shaolin was summoning me. I would never have imagined visiting Luohe, but the Shaolin path took me there and showed me how it could be possible to go back and train with my master, like so many years gone by.
For those who have never trained under Decheng, it’s a long way from Shaolin. But most of Decheng’s longtime students have already seen Shaolin. We would do well to just go to Luohe, because that’s where our master is, and there are new adventures to be had there (donkey meals not withstanding). It’s an extraordinary place to train and is an authentic experience of real China.
“What happens in the next chapter? Read Shaolin Trips: The Shaolin Zen Music Ritual".
