Translation assistance by Miao Hui
For Rebuilding the Northern Shaolin Temple: Part 11, click here.
January 14, 2015—On the mountainside where North Shaolin is currently being rebuilt, things slow down during the winter. Farmers still rise early to milk the cows, chickens still sing their most distinctive cock-a-doodle-doo songs to signal the dawn, and life goes on in most ways the same as it has for thousands of years; but there is quietness in winter that’s unmistakable, peaceful and beautiful in a stark still way. So too the monks rise before dawn for meditation and chanting; some hot vegetables, rice and tea might make up breakfast. The Shaolin monks practice their Taolu (the original Chinese version of Kata and Poomse), and whatever the business of the day is begun.
But in winter the sounds of re-construction at North Shaolin Monastery are conspicuous only in their absence, for the crews have returned to their families and the awesome silence is only broken by the sounds of wind in the trees and a few solitary birds braving the harsh winter of North China. Yet, warmth remains in many forms.
“The Way of Tea”: A friend presented me / with tender leaves of Oolong tea, / for which I chose a kettle of ivory-mounted gold, / a mixing-bowl of snow-white earth. / With its clear bright froth and fragrance, / it was like the nectar of Immortals. / The first bowl washed the cobwebs from my mind – / The whole world seemed to sparkle. / A second cleansed my spirit / like purifying showers of rain. / A third and I was one of the Immortals – / What need now for austerities / to purge our human sorrows? / Worldly people, by going in for wine, / sadly deceive themselves. / For now I know / the Way of Tea is real. –Chio Jen (Tang Dynasty) [quotation downloaded from: http://www.oolong-tea.org]
In the Song Dynasty (960–1279), monks got up, washed their face and hands, and drank tea in the morning. Then they sat during meditation before taking a nap. When they got up, they washed and drank tea. Then they had a meal, washed their face and hands, and drank tea. Monks were – and to a large extent still are – inseparable from tea in daily life. Tea, they say, “ignites the vitality and strengthens the will.”
In the Song Dynasty many Chinese temples formulated ritualized ceremonies for drinking tea. The most famous was the tea banquet of Jingshan Temple (径山寺) in Yuhang District, Hangzhou city, Zhejiang Province. Built in the early Tang Dynasty, this temple became like the Vatican in the Song Dynasty, while Hangzhou was the country’s political, economic and cultural center, rather like Kyoto. Whereas monks in Europe were the earliest true wine masters, monks in China were the original masters of tea. Chan (Zen) and tea co-evolved in China along a path from south to north, and from inside monasteries to every corner of the empire and beyond.
The earliest Buddhist communication between Jingshan Temple and Japanese Buddhists was in 1235 when Japanese Buddhist monk Enni Ben’en (called Yuan’er Bianyuan in China, 1202–1280) studied various forms of Mahayana under Chinese Rinzai Master Wuzhun Shifan at Jingshan Temple. (It is also believed Enni Ben’en was the first to bring udon noodles from China to Japan.) This appears to have been the origin of the now famous Japanese Tea Ceremony.
Fan Yi Hui Chan House – Beijing
Introduction
This particular adventure began with a phone call from Shi Yan Pei, head monk at North Shaolin, to my translator friend Miao, who dabbles with gems and jewels as her hobby and vocation. On any one day she might buy or sell rough or cut diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, opals and dozens of other precious stones. She might suggest a cutting for a stone, or design and sketch a piece of jewelry for a client as such are her interests. Also she gets to meet some of the richest people in China and company owners from all over the world. So it was only natural Shi Yan Pei would call her to invite us to the opening of a new Chan house in Beijing that has starkly simple yet posh tea rooms, jewelry, incense, fine china pottery and a small vegetarian restaurant, making it a unique “five culture house” here in Beijing.
Welcome to Fan Yi Hui Chan House. Finding it was a bit of a challenge, as it is tucked into an enclave of traditional China hidden behind numerous skyscrapers. Walking there, one strolls past Nanxincang Warehouse, built during the Ming Dynasty and used as a granary until the Qing Dynasty. Nine such storehouses remain intact along with the eastern wall. The brick storehouses feature louver windows and are constructed with brick similar to Beijing hutongs (traditional buildings).
Up this little road one turns left, and in the distance the entranceway to Fan Yi Hui Chan House can sort of be seen with binoculars, at least if one happens to have them handy. Walking along this little road towards the Chan House, one is entertained by various signs giving unquestionably good advice (see photos) and shops like “Lord of Salt – Mr. Taste and Mrs. Tea.”
Even if unable to read Chinese, you somehow know you’ve arrived at Fan Yi Hui. It’s just obvious, and I’m not sure what gives it away.
Walking in, one leaves the hustle and bustle of modern, busy, loud Beijing and steps into a quiet, peaceful harmonious fusion of traditional and contemporary, delicately scented with herbs, flowers, incense and tea aromas blended with guzheng (21-stringed ancient instrument of China) set into timeless tea rooms right and left, lit softly yet clearly. Even the air in Fan Yi Hui is soft and gentle. It is in fact a total multi-sensory blast of warmth, quiet and softness after the cacophony of wintery downtown Beijing.
We were greeted at the door by a hostess who was expecting us and politely given a tour of the first floor, and later the exclusive second floor which is usually reserved for members only.
Before long we met the owner and originator of this vision-like corner of heaven, Mr. Cao Wei – a former Chan Buddhist monk. After a couple of photos, we sat down with Li Lai, Vice General Manager of Fan Yi Hui, to listen to the story.
Though one might think this unique Chan House must have been years – and millions of dollars – in the making, in fact the idea for Fan Yi Hui House sprang up in April 2014, when Mr. Cao was thinking of a way to harmonize traditional and modern Chinese cultures. Also, surprisingly, the construction and design costs were modest – on the order of 100,000 yuan, which is peanuts in Beijing. How is this possible? Difficult to say, but this is China, the land of mystery.
And who is this former monk Cao Wei? “As a child,” Mr. Cao said, “I fervently only wanted to be a monk,” which is what he became. But after some 12 years in the monastery, due either to karma or pressure from his parents, he left to “find a new path.”
Asked why he wanted to build a Chan house near the very center of Beijing, he said (paraphrasing), “Modern society is so full of stress and desire. Coming back to natural mind should be simple.” (Why I hadn’t guessed he’d say that is baffling.)
Asked about the meaning of the name of this Chan house,” Vice General Manager Li Lai explained in Chinese: “Fan Yi Hui means ‘Universe One Wisdom,’ but implies many other things too. Wisdom is greater than the universe, (or maybe) transcends or contains the universe. Following the ways of truth is implied, and also one rule about everything having a beginning and end.” Translating Chinese philosophy can be pretty darned difficult. The discussion of the meaning of Fan Yi Hui lasted a full ten minutes or so. (One thing foreigners must learn in China is patience. Most Chinese here seem to love details, and trying to get a brief summary quickly isn’t going to work. It’s usually best to leave some things to the translator to figure out and boil down, then just hope for the best.)
During this interview we also found out that the formal opening of Fan Yi Hui isn’t till May when Abbot Yao Zheng of Ningxia will arrive. For those who might not be familiar with this auspicious local, Yinchuan is the capital of the Ningxia Hui Autonomous Region and former capital of the Western Xia Empire of the Tanguts, which emphasizes another interesting thing about China: There are always 1,000 stories behind a story, at minimum. Abbot Yao Zheng, by the way, happens to be a master of Xing Yi Quan, the major internal linear style of Chinese Kung Fu.
Like a well-cut gem, Fan Yi Hui has many translucent facets which sparkle in different ways. The jewelry displayed there ranges from the styles of ancient Chinese royalty to simple rough and polished stones, which include diamonds, jade, emeralds, rubies and lapis lazuli. For those not familiar with lapis lazuli, it has been a sacred stone since at least the 7th millennium BC, is primarily found in the Badakhshan province in northeast Afghanistan, and was even used for the eyebrows of the funeral mask of King Tutankhamun (1341–1323 BCE). It has been the special stone of royalty for thousands of years, is the stone sacred to the Medicine Buddha (Yaofo), and attributed to have healing power. The Old Testament refers to lapis lazuli (Exodus 24:10): “As they saw the God of Israel, and there was under his feet as it were paved work of lapis lazuli.”
While typing all this up the next day, I kept encountering the word “Chanding” in my notes. I learned that it means meditation, but also calming and focus. It seems tea and incense are useful for attaining this quietness and focus of mind.
Fan Yi Hui isn’t a simple place to describe, but it is a calm place in the heart of Beijing where one can savor fine tea, enjoy a simple vegetarian meal, meditate, and just “be” for a while.
Chan is a family extending beyond suchness and non-suchness, before the beginning and after the end of all the universes; and as I’ve written before at the conclusion of stories relating to North Shaolin and its family, leaving is never easy. It’s a painful rebirth into the chaos of modern life with all its contradictions and excesses, desires and material things. But one can take the calm and peace of mind – even some tea, incense and jewelry – “to go,” if this is the tender of one’s desire. Returning is always easy, as there are doors everywhere if looked for, even in a cup of tea.
The civil official Zuo Si in the Jin Dynasty wrote a poem titled “My Cute Girls,” of which a few lines follow: “My two daughters are cute girls, / Fair and flawless as lily pears. / We give the younger the name Pure, / her tongue’s glib but never demure. / The elder’s name is an orchid fine, / brows are rainbows and eyes shine. / They brisk in woods like two fairies, / can’t wait to get ripe fruits and berries. / To flowery nature they’re so much bound, / wind and rain chorus a cheerful sound. / Tea scents from home lure them with desire, / pursing rosy lips they help blow the fire.” –Yu, Lu (780 AD) [The Classic of Tea, p. 57, Yu, Lu (Jiang Yi & Jiang Xin, English translation 2009), Hunan People’s Publishing House, Hunan]
Yep, it was the tea that brought ‘em home.
Emerging from the Dharma
“Subhuti, what do you think? If someone filled the three thousand great thousand-worlds with the Seven Precious Jewels in the practice of giving, would such a person obtain many merits?” Subhuti replied, “Very many, Bhagavan! Why? Such merits do not have the nature of merits, and for this reason the Tathagata speaks of many merits. If someone accepts and maintains even as little as a four-line gatha from within this sutra, speaking it to others, then his or her merits will be even greater. Why? Subhuti, this is because all Buddhas, as well as the Dharmas of the Anuttara Samyaksaṃbodhi of the Buddhas, emerge from this sutra. Subhuti, what is called the Buddha Dharma is not a Buddha Dharma.” –Verse 8, Vajracchedika Prajnaparamita Sutra, translated from Taisho Tripiṭaka, volume 8, number 235 [quotation downloaded from http://lapislazulitexts.com/vajracchedika_prajnaparamita_sutra.html]
Note 1: In Buddhist tradition the seven jewels or possessions of the Chakravartin represent the seven factors or limbs of enlightenment. These are the aspects of wisdom-awareness that overcome the delusions or hindrances on the path to enlightenment. The seven factors are: 1) Perfect mindfulness, 2) perfect discrimination of phenomena, 3) perfect effort or energy, 4) perfect joy, 5) perfect versatility or flexibility, 6) Perfect single-pointed concentration, 7) perfect equanimity.
An auxiliary or lesser group of seven royal jewels also accompanies the rule of the Chakravartin. These are the sword, the naga skin, the throne, the robes, the boots, the royal house or palace and the palace gardens. These secondary jewels represent the material inheritance or attributes of the Chakravartin.
Note 2: Naga is a Sanskrit and Pali word for a deity taking the form of the great king cobra found in Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism.
Note 3: Whether in a Chan house or not, for a heady brew, mix all of the above with your hot tea.
Note 4: If you can figure all this out, you are either a fool or an enlightened person, and in either case your Kung Fu should be just about perfect.
For Rebuilding the Northern Shaolin Temple: Part 13: Meditation Hall, Mountain, click here.
