Bamboo legend enthrals guests Statues captivating
By Chen Liang

KUNMING _ A long time ago, an itinerant monk walked into the rolling Yuan Mountains northwest of the city.
In a valley of lush forests he planted his bamboo stick in the earth in front of a group of local people, told them to check the stick again the next day and left.
The following day, the people found the stick had disappeared to be replaced by a thick growth of bamboo.
Realizing that the magic monk had revealed the existence of a holy place to them, they built a Buddhist temple there in AD 639.
According to legend, that is how the Bamboo Temple, or Qiongzhu Si in Chinese, 18 kilometres from central Kunming, got its name.
However, the temple, one of the most attractive in Yunnan Province, is not known for its bamboo, but for the stunning religious figures inside _ life-size statues crafted out of clay by Li Guangxiu in the 1880s.
At that time, the Bamboo Temple was going through a large-scale renovation after being burnt down and rebuilt in the 15th century.
The abbot of the temple employed the master Sichuan sculptor and his five apprentices to fashion 500 (actually 518) luohan (arhats or noble ones). Luohan are Buddhist disciples who have achieved salvation; they hold an important place in the religion.
After seven years of hard work, the Bamboo Temple obtained these "pearls of oriental sculpture." Similar clay religious statues can only be found in a temple near Chengdu, capital of Sichuan Province.
One drizzly afternoon, I made a trip to the secluded temple to look at the sculptures.
A religious hush enveloped the place. I was one of the only 20 visitors to the good-sized temple.
After passing through the main entrance, I saw two huge fir trees in the courtyard of the Front Hall of the temple. Soaring high into the sky, the trunks are so thick it needs two or three people with arms outstretched to encircle them.
The bulk of the sculpture collection _ 216 standing figures _ is housed row upon row on tiered shelving, completely covering the walls of two side rooms in the Front Hall.
The statues _ depicted in realistic or surreal fashion _ all have different expressions, ranging from happiness to deep despair.
The variety of poses is astounding _ a monk caught turning round to emphasize a point in a discussion; a figure who seems to be talking in whispers with a face veiled in mystery; another has a bizarre and extremely panicky expression as if scared by a bug creeping under his skin.
The old, the sick, the emaciated _ they are all there with extremely vivid expressions.
Peering at their faces, I felt I was gaining some deeper insight into the real world. The figures are reminiscent of the bubbling and seething activity in a Chengdu teahouse or the Flower and Bird Market in Kunming.
But the creme de la creme of the statue collection is hidden inside the Main Hall of the temple. Here 86 of the most surreal figures are riding on the crests of waves that emerge from the huge walls in three-dimensional splendour.
The rolling nature of the waves and the position of the figures resulted in the statues becoming known as the Surfing Buddhas.
Their faces are expressive and weird as they ride on a variety of mounts _ blue dogs, giant crabs, lobsters, turtles, elephants, tigers, unicorns and other traditional mystical beasts.
One of the figures had eyebrows at least a metre long and another had two faces, a small one being added on the side of his head. A third was pulling his face open like a mask to reveal another face inside.
The most eye-catching statue is a figure with a long arm, which reached out of the mural for a couple of metres and touched the ceiling of the hall with his fingers.
This so-called "Long-arm Arhat" was responsible for getting the Buddhist sutra from shelves for Sakyamuni. With his elastic arm, he could complete the job even when he and the Buddha were thousands of kilometres away from nirvana.
In legend, master Li Guangxiu often visited market places and made friends with people of all sorts to make all his figures look different. And his success is striking.
So lifelike are the sculptures in the Bamboo Temple that they were considered in bad taste by his contemporaries. After completing the project, the master disappeared into thin air.
But the temple offers tourists more than just sculptures.
In the courtyards, I found many flowers in bloom, such as hydrangeas. There were also several old pear trees weighed down with fruit.
Visitors lit sticks of incense in front of the halls, filling the damp air with a heady perfume.
I did not see any bamboo grove until I stepped into the secluded backyard of the temple. There, groves of dark green bamboo stood on both sides of a lane covered with lichen.
Walking into the bamboo forests, I stood for a while and let my thoughts float with the singing of birds back to the day when the legendary bamboo broke through the soil.
To get to the temple, rent a taxi for 100 yuan (US$12) for a two-hour trip, or to take a bus in front of the Yunnan Hotel.
Admission is 10 yuan (US$1.20) for foreign tourists.

(Photos: top: Statues of Buddha display many vivid expressions; next to top: A human-size statue represents the craftsmanship of the ancient sculptors. By Yang Shizhong)
 

Two ancient trees guard the entrance to the Bamboo Temple