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All material including photographs are ©2011 Ronald Dunlap / Doglight Studios
Today I was heading to Wong Tai Sin Temple. A Taoist temple built in 1921, it is famous for the cadre of soothsayers that help the inquiring assuage their thirst for a glimpse of what may occur in the coming years.
Five stops past Mong Kok the train arrived at Wong Tai Sin (the temple is so popular that it has its own stop). I exited the train and followed the signage toward the temple.
Since the Chinese New Year had just passed, the temple was still crowded with pilgrims eager to procure good fortune for the coming year or be forewarned if something bad was lurking a few months down the line.
As you approach the temple entrance, you have to run the gantlet of unauthorized vendors. An older lady cornered me, asking for HKD 10 for printed prayers and incense sticks. I said that I would buy them if I could take her picture. She talked to her cohorts and then asked for an additional HKD 10 (a little over a buck and a quarter US). I agreed, handed over HKD 20 in coinage, and watched her count the coins several times before I could shoot her face straight on.
From this encounter, I walked up a few steps into the commercial section of the temple complex. This is where authorized dealers are allowed to sell charms and other good-luck devices with the temple's blessing, as long as the temple gets its cut.
I perused the area, shooting a few overall shots of the mostly red and gold wares that were being offered for sale as good-luck charms. I found myself attracted to a charm in the shape of a bag of gold. I spoke to the beautiful, middle-aged stall owner and asked if I could take her picture holding the golden charm that I was going to purchase. She smiled and agreed, if I would email a copy of the image to her son in North Carolina.
The temple's entrance was proving to be a bottleneck. As I got close, I could see that the temple's attendants were inspecting the goods visitors were bringing in. When I got to the front of the line, they confiscated most of the offerings I had purchased. One attendant said in English, "Too much smoke." I was allowed to keep the incense, but all the paper prayers had to go. I followed the zigzag line and found an area where I could place and light the incense. This temple is deluged with offerings because it's famous for the number of prayers that are rumored to be answered. The temple's unofficial motto is "What you request is what you get."
Once up at the temple proper, I walked around a while to get the lay of the land. Once I understood the flow of the place, I got in line to have a chance to participate in the practice of Kau Cim. I waited for a good 15 minutes till there was a bamboo cylinder available for me to use.
Once I had the cylinder, I had to wait for a spot to kneel before the main altar. The cylinder contains 100 numbered fortune sticks, made of bamboo. You pose a question to the gods about a problem you are concerned about and then shake the cylinder until one of the fortune sticks is shaken out. I watched the other worshippers and found that most were shaking out two sticks, so I repeated the process until two sticks were on the ground in front of me. I wrote down the numbers, returned the fortune sticks to the cylinder, and placed the cylinder back on the table for the next devotee to use.
I had my numbers, 34 and 94, and was on my way to the lower section where the soothsayers practice their art, when I came face to face with a couple of very cute Korean girls who wanted to have their picture taken with me. I made the same deal as usual and had them pose with the fortune-stick-filled bamboo cylinder.
On my way to get my numbers interpreted, I ran into an elegant gentleman on the stairs that led down to the fortune-tellers' domain. He was a very photogenic soothsayer. He couldn't speak English, but through pantomime I asked to take his picture, and he agreed. After a couple of shots on the stairs, he motioned me to follow him, which I did.
Once we arrived at his cubicle, he got behind his desk for a more dignified portrait. He was very distinguished, and from the photographs of himself hanging on the walls I could tell he liked to pose. After several shots, he handed me a card with another booth number and motioned me to go there to have my fortune-stick numbers interpreted.
I found the booth, but the soothsayer/interpreter was with another couple of clients. I waited a good 15 minutes while she read the palms of two ladies who looked to be in their late twenties. When they were done, it was my turn, and I went in. The first order of events was to pay her HKD 30 for the number interpretation. I passed over the cash and handed her the slip with 34 and 94 written on it. My numbers revealed that I, as usual, had a rosy future, never the dark abyss I'm hoping for. After the number reading, she asked if I'd like to have my palm read, that it would only cost 100 US. I declined with a smile and left with a red packet that contained my numbers.
From the soothsayers' lower-deck area I climbed the stairs and visited the temple pond, and watched the turtles lumber around in the shallow water.
On a terrace just south of the main alter stand twelve oversized statues of the animals that represent the different signs of the Chinese Zodiac. From the Rat to the Pig, they're all here. They look like Disney characters or sports mascots, except they're made of brass. Visitors love to stand next to the statues that represent the year they were born in and have their picture taken. It's supposed to be good luck.
I was taking pictures of people having their pictures taken when a man motioned me over. I smiled and walked over to stand beside him while his daughter took our photo. She look very Western in her red sports suit, and she spoke excellent English. They were from a small city in mainland China, on the eastern end of the "Silk Road," and were very excited to find that I was from Los Angeles. Like almost everyone else in the world, they have relatives living in the L.A. area. After shaking hands, we said goodbye and I left the temple.
I walked back to the station and took the train south to Mong Kok, made the line change, and headed to Central. Since there was more light today, I wanted to grab some more shots of the double-decker trolleys and anything else that looked better. Also, I had another fitting at 7 p.m. that I'd have to be ready for.
I walked up and down Connaught Road, firing away and hoping that one of my shots would be able to convey the hectic, boogie-woogie style of these transportation relics. I especially loved the Warner Bros.' Nikita advertisement that graced several of them. The deep oxblood color and the half-dressed woman with her deadly companion, seem to convey a perfect metaphor for the aspirations of the city, or at least what I perceived to be Hong Kong's aspirations.
From Connaught Road I used the elevated walkways to get back to the Star Ferry. After a 15-minute walk I stopped at the Bistro on the Mile on the first floor of the Holiday Inn to get something to eat. I had fish and chips, which was a mistake; the chips were OK but the fish was horrible, just a sliver of fish in an overabundance of batter. Back in my room, I washed the taste out of my mouth with a Twinkie and a Diet Coke.
I watched some TV until just after 6:30, then started over to Raz Fashions. I wanted to walk off some of my nervous energy before the fitting. Tonight was supposed to be my final fitting, but I was guessing that they hadn't followed my instructions about the "American fit" and that my oversized shoulders would need more room.
I walked in three minutes before 7 p.m. to find that it would be a few more minutes until my suit arrived. I had to watch an Australian guy let his wife choose his clothes. Very upsetting; I hate to see a couple degrade one another in front of strangers.
When the suit arrived it was tight, as I expected, and they tried to encourage me to take it as it was, but I stood my ground and told them that it was too tight in the shoulders and arms. This caused some tension, but I didn't care—I wasn't going to give in. There was no reason to have a suit made if it wasn't going to fit correctly. They finally agreed, and a new appointment was set for the following day at 1:30.
Back in my hotel room, I transferred files and looked at day's take. I wasn't satisfied with some of the shots, so I decided to take a fast trip back to Wong Tai Sin Temple in the morning.
