Serenity and a Black Dragon in Southwest China

Once inside the temple gardens I could forget the millions of people not far away, I could block out the deafening clank of old vehicles with their polluting clouds of exhaust fumes, and I could ignore the strong stench of rotting garbage alongside the roads. I could push aside the memory of the scary walk along the edge of the road to get here.

One of our hosts, Wen-ping, had explained, "You have to walk on the same side as the traffic because then the drivers know what to do and it's their responsibility to watch out for you." This sounds logical but is different to the western mantra of "face oncoming traffic." Everything hoots and honks as a way of saying, "I'm coming! I'm here!" If there's a long sustained honk, it's probably a bit more serious: Perhaps there's a row of three - a walker being overtaken by a bicycle being overtaken by a bus, and a truck is coming in the opposite direction. And all this on a narrow two-lane road with no sidewalk and only a thin dirt strip for shoulders. Hint: Stop, stand back, and watch what's going on.

My husband and I are at Heilongtan (Black Dragon Pool Park), about one kilometer from Yunnan Agricultural University and 12 kilometers north of the city of Kunming. It is a wonderful place to wile away 3-4 hours, preferably on a weekday when it's not crowded. The guidebooks are rather silent on the site, but it's a gem, a serene example of Chinese temple architecture. Started in the Han Dynasty, it is said to be the first ancient temple in central Yunnan. The ancient building cluster was constructed around a pool, which supposedly concealed a black dragon, hence the name. The pool is in two sections with a bridge over the middle. One side is deep and murky, the other shallow and clear, symbolizing the Yin and Yang (positive and negative) of Taoism. The story goes that the fish in each section never swim into the other section. I didn't watch long enough to verify this, though!

A brick wall encloses a 91.4 hectre park with secluded winding paths in a charming garden famous for azaleas, plum trees, firs, and magnolias which arch over the paths while wind whispers in stands of tall green bamboo. It's unexpectedly beautiful and very peaceful, a colorful green oasis just outside the rather drab village. A Taoist temple complex that has been carefully restored and maintained, the Black Dragon Palace or lower temple was first built in 1394 in the Ming Dynasty and has 'holy' statues of dragons and water creatures thought to be gods of rain. The upper temple or Hei Shui (Black Water) was built in the Han Dynasty. After entering through the main gate of the Hei Shui Temple, we find a whole series of buildings on different levels with interconnecting courtyards and walled gardens, often entered through circular openings. Follow them far enough and you get away from most people, finding the peace and serenity that a temple garden somehow seems to promise.

All connections lead to the main courtyard with its three venerable old trees (cypress of Song Dynasty, plum of Tang Dynasty, and camellia of Ming Dynasty) and some big burial and memorial stones, one with small Chinese coins stuck on for good luck. An old couple tends Founder's Hall, the main temple hall there. They wear black pants, grey long-sleeved tunics, a royal blue headscarf with black edging, and black embroidered slippers. I see red painted pillars supporting painted beams and capitals in a riot of color and subjects, a profusion of elephant heads, and many blue, yellow, and pink dragons' heads with open mouths and big white teeth, somehow smiling. I note the gorgeous tiles and painted walls, geometric bold patterns, panels with soft black, white, and pink brush paintings of rivers and trees, mountains with winding roads, branches with plum blossoms, and bamboo. I hear chanting, someone whistling softly, and a small gong reverberating. People enter quietly, kneel, and pray. I smell incense wafting on the breeze from the big incense burner near the entrance to the main temple hall and the burnt crayon scent of candles smoking.

On the top level, an old Chinese couple poses for pictures on a carved wooden lion, one of a series of more recent carved wooden statues, while a temple keeper hovers, waiting for the one yuan fee. Wen-ping is very excited to explain this ritual. "You know why they do this?" he asks. We look blank. "Well, you want to try and control the wooden serpent, tiger, and lion, have them at your feet. Then you are strong. And the eagle means great opportunity. You can fly anywhere you want."

A semi-circle of old man figures (they look like biblical kings to me), with the smaller at the front and getting taller, symbolizes the desire for a long life; a tree behind them with huge wooden apples painted red also means long life. "A child should give his parent an apple as a good present. It's the Chinese way," Wen-ping continues. We find it intriguing that many of the old Chinese customs are still so strong and so proudly explained. For the rest of the time we were there, we looked for this ancient symbolism and found it everywhere in the temple buildings.

At the end of the afternoon, the traffic on the road outside increases and slowly the sound intrudes more and more, upsetting the peace. We step outside and it's welcome to the real world again - people, traffic, chatter, clatter, farm smells, and burning garbage. But I retain a sense of serenity and peace, a feeling of calm at having discovered this ancient treasure, knowing I can return tomorrow if I wish.