Taoists (or, the Struggle for Prosperity)

                Last time I wrote about my personal experience on Chinese New Year.  This time, I’d like to describe how Taoists, one of the religions with the most followers in Singapore, approach the New Year period.  Chinese New Year is a 15 day celebration, starting on the first day of the first month in the Chinese calendar.  It symbolizes renewal or rebirth, as the winter colds give way to the promise of spring prosperity. Anyway, enough of the stuff you can find on Wikipedia.  So what does this all mean?  I thought I already knew all about Chinese New Year – I’d been in Hiroshima, Japan, for the last one.  Nothing special.  But wait; now I’m in a city with 5 million people, and about 3 million of them are Chinese!

                On New Year’s Eve – traditionally a Sunday, with New Year’s Day following on Monday – I was just unpacking and settling into my new home.  I had met a few friends and made my first few attempts to explore my new city and home.  I was lucky enough to be shown around by a Chinese-Singaporean.  Having a native of the area is always an advantage.  When you are alone and wandering, you could be a block away from the most impressive part of the city and not even know it.  His knowledge and tour guide like approach helped me and a fellow newcomer get a grasp of the city.  He took us to a Tao temple (Taoism being the predominant religion amongst the Chinese-Singaporeans).  We ambled around, taking in the impressive structure, taking in the beauty of the Goddess of Mercy’s gold statue in the center of temple.  When we decided it was time to move on was exactly the time the truly Singaporean rainstorm began – meaning it appeared out of nowhere and pelted the ground with raindrops the size of fists before disappearing amongst a blue sky – and so back inside we went, with the rest of the crowd seeking solace and shelter in the temple. 

Kwam Im Thong Hood Cho Temple, Singapore.

                Beneath the Goddess of Mercy lay stacks of fruit and food; Pineapples, Papayas, Mangoes, Bananas, and bags of rice.  Usually, the food is placed under the monument and left.  The sheer volume of the shifting congregation leaving fruit as an offering was combatted by two busy acolytes.  They let the food sit for a few moments, before sweeping it behind the counter and making room for another basket. Why so much food you ask?  The Tao gods must have their fill! Offerings to the gods on Chinese New Year help solidify the prospects for an auspicious coming year.  I wondered if the food was left to rot in front of the gods or if it was taken and given to the needy and the hungry.  I was assured that it would end up in the hands of those who need it, but also that some food would inevitable spoil given the monstrous volume. 

The rain lasted long enough for a quick introduction from my friend to the Taoists and their beliefs; there is an almost Grecian sized pantheon of Taoist deities.  Now, Taoism is inclusive to most outside manifestations of deities or Gods, which to me, gives credibility to the religion.  They are open in that they do not condemn someone else’s interpretation of a supreme being, although they might not laugh if I present the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Exclusivity in religious belief leads to such nasty things as the partition of Jerusalem, the Inquisition, the plight of the Kurds, Jews, and Armenians…  Anyway, back to the Taoists.  The Gods rule over specific commodities, beliefs, or ideals; you have the Ruler of Heaven, of Water, of Earth.  Don’t forget; Lu Tung-pin, the King of Medicine; or Tsao-Kuo-Chiu, the representative of Nobility; or Li-Tieh-kuai, the representative of the crippled and deformed; or Ho Hsien-ku, of women; Han Hsiang-tsu, of youth.  And don’t forget the God of the Kitchen – lest your soups spoil or your meat become overcooked.  If you are in need of some divine intervention, a guiding hand, you consult the most appropriate god.  It’s kind of like finding the right Doctor; you don’t go to the proctologist for a twisted ankle and you don’t go the Kitchen deity if you are having trouble at work. 

The altar to Guanyin, the Goddess of Mercy, inside the temple.

This particular temple – Kwam Im Thong Hood Cho – is well known for an interesting spectacle come midnight.  On New Year’s Eve, a throng of believers will line up for a race to the temple doors.  Armed with joss sticks, these Singaporeans will battle each other to be the first to place their joss stick onto a small altar.  The winner, or the first to place their stick, is guaranteed immense fortune in the following year.  Remember, Singapore is a city that has swelled in size congruently with its economic success.  Consequently, this religious race has also grown.  Now, so many would be runners will line up hours before midnight outside the temple.  Always with public order in mind, the lane is cordoned off – leaving it looking like a 100 m New York Marathon – and the competitors are lined up.  The real competition is left to the athletic young men, as the large size has invited some serious roughhousing amidst the crowd.  What are a few broken noses or trampled limbs for the promise of a year of prosperity?  The real star of the show is the poor monk who is constantly swiping the burning joss sticks from the altar in order to make way for the coming hordes; I was assured his fingers and thumbs would be burned black with the marks of lit incense.

The frenetic racers battle each other, armed with incense, for their future.

                The midnight race and the foods offered inside the temple are to appease the Gods, but more importantly, to balance out the constant shifting between the good and evil forces within the Tao spiritual world.  On New Year’s Eve, many flock to perform their good deeds to ensure a prosperous and auspicious year.  Around this time of year, many people try to be charitable and hospitable in order to secure their – and their loved ones – fortunes for the coming months.  According to this balance, I’m due for some seriously good technological luck: in the past two weeks, I’ve lost my camera, broken my kindle, and catastrophically and improbably threw my headphones into a cup of water.  Feels like I should win an iPad or something.