The 36 to Hell and Back

Hell, and the doorway to it, can be found in Xinbei. Somebody could accuse me of being facetious, and they would be absolutely, 100% correct! I am not talking about a mythological nether region where the souls of the damned are tormented. Actually, I’m talking about a statuary recreation of an underworld that is part of Chinese Buddhism. The torture meted out in this version of hell can be particularly brutal, but the saving grace is that the damned can pay their karmic debt and eventually be reincarnated. In Buddhism, people are not meant to rot in such a place for eternity.

This display can be found at Wanfo Temple. There was a previous Real Changzhou post about this place more than a year ago, but  that was more of explaining what the place was and what it culturally meant. Back then, I found it while riding my ebike in Northern Xinbei. Recently, I figured out how to get there on the public bus.

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Going north, I boarded the 36 at a stop in front of Xinbei Wanda Plaza. However, there are stops at points south of here. The 36 originates at the downtown train station and terminates in a part of Xinbei that’s just a couple of kilometers from the city line with Yangzhong. For a large section of the journey, this bus travels north on Tongjiang Road before turning.

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Eventually, I found myself in a small town called Weitang 圩塘镇. Instead of giving the street name, I would just say if you see the chimney from the industrial port along the Yangtze River, it’s time to get off the bus.

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Walk in a straight line towards that smoke stack. Sometimes, it will be hidden behind a building, but you can still see evidence of it on a clear day.

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The walkway might become a bit narrow, as you will end up walking through a working class neighborhood of desolate concrete. However, if you keep walking straight, you will not get lost. And trust me, I have been lost in this neighborhood before; it’s labyrinthine and it’s easy to make a wrong turn. So, I can’t stress how you only have to walk a straight line from the previously mentioned bus stop.

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A ticket runs about 10 RMB. Also, there are old ladies nearby that will want to sell you ceremonial incense. I skipped it this time, but a prior time I came here, a packet ran me about 10 additional RMB.

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As soon as you see something that looks like Guanyin dispensing mercy to troubled souls, you have almost found Hell.In the background of the above picture, you can see the entrance to the hall.

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The above picture doesn’t really do justice the gruesome detail on display here. So, consider this as an advisory. Graphic depictions of violence shall follow.

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The above three photos are just a minuscule sampling of what is here. A potential visitor should know that this a real religious site and not a wax museum like Madame Tussaud’s in London. The amount of carnage and brutality on display here may seem outlandish, but this is a place where I have always heard monks chanting in the background — every time I have been here. Christian cathedrals in Europe have been treated like tourist attractions, but visitors are still expected to treat the place with some sense of solemnity. The same could be said for Buddhist temples in Changzhou, China, and elsewhere in Asia.

This post originally appeared on Real Changzhou.

Unwinding at Gilly’s in Xianlin

Language is unstable, some postmodern and contemporary poets might warn us. Some of this comes from the interplay of  text and meaning, and some of it is comes from the meaning a reader assigns to what they read. No two readers read the same text the same way. Trust me, I know this sounds confusing. Bare with me. All of this partially originates from the French philosopher Jacques Derrida, who drew from the linguist Ferdinand De Saussure. Some people might be reading this paragraph and go, “What the bloody hell is he talking about? Has he been drinking baijiu 白酒 and has been smashing his forehead on his keyboard, AGAIN?” So, I’m not going to unpack any deconstructionist literary critical theories at the moment. It made my head spin in graduate school, and over the past weekend, it made my head spin again.

Although, deconstructionism  befuddled me in a new and different way. Recently, I attended a translation-terminology conference at Nanjing University’s Xianlin Campus. Literature and writing studies has it’s own academic jargon. Wading into translation studies, or any other professional field,  for the first time would be like walking into a wind tunnel of highly technical words– you look for just about anything to grab onto before being swept away and flung painfully against a brick wall. For me, that meant relying on the literary critical theory I know and smidgen of linguistics I actually remember from a long time ago to find parallels. Basically, I was trying to find a way to “translate” from type of specialized, technical English to another. I would talk about the irony of that being at a translation-terminology conference, but only language nerds might get the joke.

Needless to say, after the first day, I went looking for a bar because I really needed to decompress my head.  Thankfully, I found Gilly’s and after a couple of beers, I found myself mingling with some of the local expats and a fellow teacher from Changzhou I accidentally ran into.

 

 

Gilly’s is walking distance from the Xueze Road 学则路 xué zé lù subway station on Nanjing’s Line 3. It’s at 108 Wenfan Road. This would be in the Xianlin neighborhood of Nanjing. There are a lot of schools down this way, and a lot of expats who work in some industrial sectors live here. In short, it’s a large foreign community (teachers, engineers, business people, and so on) in Nanjing.  However, the ambiance of this area is a marked difference that Xinjiekou and the bustle of Nanjing’s city center. Life seems to have a slower, more relaxed pace around Xianlin.

Gilly’s seemed to have that same vibe. However, do bare in mind I have only been there once. Good expat bars feel like they have a sense of community, and this place seemed no different. You could even see it in the food specials. The place was taking reservations for an upcoming Thanksgiving dinner, and Saturdays offered American styled breakfast specials until 4pm.

 

Well, that sounds super YUM!

 

They have Asahi, Carlsberg, and Ming IPA on draft, and seeing how I wanted to drink local, I opted for the Ming IPA. It’s brewed in Nanjing.

 

A very good Chinese IPA!

 

Gilly’s also has Master Gao’s  Baby Jasmine Lager for a bargain of 25 RMB per can.

 

Note the blackboard behind the yummy Nanjing beer. Thanksgiving turkey can be had here.

 

Unfortunately, since I had stuffed myself silly at NJU’s Convention Center buffet restaurant, I didn’t try any of the food on their menu. Many of the locals suggested the pizza for next time I am in town.

Truth be told, I don’t know when I will back in that part of Nanjing again. For a Nanjing out-of-towner, Xianlin is like a 50 to 60 minute ride from the central station. That includes an interchange at Daxinggong or Xinjiekou if you are riding Line 1 or Line 2.  It’s hard to build an easy day trip around that. However, the more relaxed feel of Xianlin as a whole is a welcome change if all you know is the more cosmopolitan parts of Nanjing.  In short, I feel sort of drawn back here to see more of this area of the city.