It’s time for all the university sophomores in Tianjin to do their mandatory military training. According to my students, this means they have to buy a super-low-quality blue camouflage uniform (the seats split on several of my student’s classmates when they sat down) and march around in formation all day for a week or two. According to what we hear and see out our windows in the sports field beside our apartment, it means a lot of goose-stepping and yelling one-two-three-four. My students didn’t like doing it but said it made them more patriotic.

I didn’t set out to go get a picture, but we were out taking a walk happened upon a … squadron? … doing their drills. Here’s a shot of the young ladies:

I asked my students about it and this immediately led to a common and annoying language problem that plagues both English speakers learning Chinese and Chinese speakers learning English.

Basically, in everyday Mandarin it’s context rather than grammar that determines the difference between “they made me” and “they let me.” My EFL students routinely say things like, “My boss let me work late yesterday” or “they always let us work overtime” because in their heads they’re thinking in Chinese, and in Chinese they’d use the same verb to express both of the above concepts (ordering sb. to do something and allowing sb. to do something). A student today tried to tell me that the drill sergeants “let them” stand very still for a long time, so I hammered out some sentences with her and double-checked with my Chinese coworkers:

The military training officer doesn’t let us (让) talk or look around.
教官不让我们说话或者左顾右盼。
jiàoguān búràng wǒmen shuōhuà huòzhě zuǒgùyòupàn.

The military training officer makes us (让) goose-step for a long time.
教官让我们踢很长时间正步。
jiàoguān ràng wǒmen tī hěn cháng shíjiān zhèngbù.

Sure, people could use other words to say it more specifically, but they don’t! They just say “让” and expect you to know what they mean from the situation. If I try to use more specific words when speaking Chinese, it comes off sounding funny because usually they wouldn’t bother in most situations. Like much of China, that’s just how it is; you can like it, you can leave it, but you’re not gonna change it.

It’s time for all the university sophomores in Tianjin to do their mandatory military training. According to my students, this means they have to buy a super-low-quality blue camouflage uniform (the seats split on several of my student’s classmates when they sat down) and march around in formation all day for a week or two. According to what we hear and see out our windows in the sports field beside our apartment, it means a lot of goose-stepping and yelling one-two-three-four. My students didn’t like doing it but said it made them more patriotic.

I didn’t set out to go get a picture, but we were out taking a walk happened upon a … squadron? … doing their drills. Here’s a shot of the young ladies:

I asked my students about it and this immediately led to a common and annoying language problem that plagues both English speakers learning Chinese and Chinese speakers learning English.

Basically, in everyday Mandarin it’s context rather than grammar that determines the difference between “they made me” and “they let me.” My EFL students routinely say things like, “My boss let me work late yesterday” or “they always let us work overtime” because in their heads they’re thinking in Chinese, and in Chinese they’d use the same verb to express both of the above concepts (ordering sb. to do something and allowing sb. to do something). A student today tried to tell me that the drill sergeants “let them” stand very still for a long time, so I hammered out some sentences with her and double-checked with my Chinese coworkers:

The military training officer doesn’t let us (让) talk or look around.
教官不让我们说话或者左顾右盼。
jiàoguān búràng wǒmen shuōhuà huòzhě zuǒgùyòupàn.

The military training officer makes us (让) goose-step for a long time.
教官让我们踢很长时间正步。
jiàoguān ràng wǒmen tī hěn cháng shíjiān zhèngbù.

Sure, people could use other words to say it more specifically, but they don’t! They just say “让” and expect you to know what they mean from the situation. If I try to use more specific words when speaking Chinese, it comes off sounding funny because usually they wouldn’t bother in most situations. Like much of China, that’s just how it is; you can like it, you can leave it, but you’re not gonna change it.

This piece argues for an updated and more nuanced understanding of the relationship between China’s unregistered groups of believers and the State: “In other words, The Heavenly Man or Randy Alcorn’s Safely Home must no longer shape our paradigm.”
Related:

• More official media coverage of house churches
• The China Daily covers… house churches in Beijing?
• China’s grinches play hardball
• Religious (Re)Awakening and Chinese Society

This piece argues for an updated and more nuanced understanding of the relationship between China’s unregistered groups of believers and the State: “In other words, The Heavenly Man or Randy Alcorn’s Safely Home must no longer shape our paradigm.”
Related:

• More official media coverage of house churches
• The China Daily covers… house churches in Beijing?
• China’s grinches play hardball
• Religious (Re)Awakening and Chinese Society

The Chinese editor at the magazine keeps complaining about the Regular Zhou‘s I’ve been choosing to profile, which include a bike repairman, a sidewalk barber, a parking attendant, a fried noodle vendor and a student. They don’t like the photos of my apparently-not-dressed-well-enough neighbours either. These aren’t the kind of people the boss/censor/overly-sensitive locals (not sure who, exactly) wants shown between the advertisements in a free monthly expat magazine in Tianjin. I’m supposed to find yuppies (“小资“, formerly called “petty bourgeoisie“), or at least wealthy “success” stories. Instead for May’s issue I found this guy, who, it turns out, had a bunch of sensitive stuff to say that normally wouldn’t get published in this city.

I self-censored a lot out before submitting the final draft, but even still none of the people involved on my end had much hope that the magazine would actually print it. In the past the censors have been extremely strict about anything related to Chr!stianity in China — as if they have orders to publicly pretend it isn’t here. Below is what they eventually printed, except for a couple of things:

1. Although they left most of the Chr!stian content in, a couple lines were removed. I added them back in in red below. There were some other odd (to me) editing decisions that seemed to characterized parts of his story in unnecessary ways, but I’ve left most of those alone.
2. I’ve altered the spelling on potentially sensitive words just to avoid triggering any automatic word filters or whatever. I know that’s paranoid, but since censorship enforcement is inconsistent and this is just a personal blog, I’d rather not unduly tempt fate.
3. I replaced their title with my original title (they substituted “Ask and you shall receive”, which I though was lame).

At the end I’ve also included the text and (bad) translation of the Chinese summary that they added, which contains some interesting vocab. Without further ado, here’s May’s Regular Zhou.

A Blessed Life

…one young Tianjin professional discovers something more powerful than fate and more valuable than success

Maybe you’ve seen the aerial photos of Chinese job fairs, the only events whose sprawling, densely-packed crowds could possibly rival those of a Spring Festival train station. China’s alarmingly over-saturated job market is especially tough on males, who first need to establish financial self-sufficiency for themselves and their parents and buy an apartment in the inflated housing market before they’ll be considered marriageable.

Employers benefit from the claustrophobic rat-race; millions of college graduates struggle to find their feet in spite of it. This is one young Tianjiner’s success story, though it’s not merely about transitioning between college and career in modern day Tianjin. This particular Tianjiner, whose Chinese name could be translated as “cultivate hope”, is passionately convinced of something he’s discovered along the way – there’s much more to life than salaries, promotions and apartments.

Sink or Swim
Zhū Lǎoshī (朱老师 / ‘Teacher Zhu’), as he’s known to students and coworkers, was born twenty-five years ago near Long Rainbow Park in Nánkāi (南开). He grew up in the Dàgǎng oil fields (大港油田) before studying teaching Chinese as a foreign language at the Tianjin Foreign Languages University. After four relaxed college years, the pressure was on.

“After graduating I found a part-time job teaching Chinese to foreigners at a private language center,” he says. “I worked there for one and half years. It was hard at first. I was a new teacher with no experience and in class I didn’t teach that well. But the students were really patient and encouraging and my coworkers helped me prepare lessons. They gave me lots of help and basically taught me how to teach.

“At the time my parents still lived in Dàgǎng but my job was in Héxī (河西). My part-time income wasn’t enough to rent an apartment, but my bosses provided a free place to stay for two months. Eventually I rented a small two-bedroom with five roommates. Every weekend I’d go home to Dàgǎng and my mom would make enough food for the whole week plus some to share with my friends.

“Working at the language center really gave me a lot of help. I made a lot of friends, I learned how to teach and work, and gained experience. Yet, while I was happy to begin with, during the third semester things got really difficult. With my lack of experience I was still only part-time and wasn’t making much money. I hated the idea of leaving because my students and coworkers were really great. But I couldn’t see my future there; that last semester was pretty painful. It was sad, but I stopped working there in February 2009.”

An Open Door
“I considered starting my own small business, but within one month of leaving the language center, one of my friends who works at a private school in town mentioned they were looking for a Chinese teacher. At first I wasn’t that interested, but when I found out there were Chr!stians working at this school I became really interested. I’d heard the Gospe! for the first time over a year before and I’d continued studying the B!ble. I wasn’t a Chr!stian then, but I’d started to believe. I believed there was a G0d and I’d had some really moving experiences, so I really hoped I could have some Chr!stian coworkers. I started preparing my application the very next day. I also started thinking a lot about how I’d come to believe in G0d.

“The interview went really well. On April 12 I moved out of my crowded apartment and moved my parents out of the oil fields into an apartment in Héxī where we live together. Two days later I received the call from the school and started working part-time on the 16th. I was extremely happy.”

Deep Impressions
“When I’d just started at my new job I saw the students’ art work and heard their songs – they were beautiful. They did science experiments and studied happily – they all had happy smiling faces. They were all really obedient, so different from the 90’s kids at my Chinese school. I could see it’s because this school provides a good environment. The school also held fun relationship-building activities for the teachers, students and parents. I really wanted to work there full-time.

“At the end of April I heard that two of my former students were having complications with their pregnancy. I was worried, but they’d returned to Canada to have the baby and I was in Tianjin. I wasn’t married, I couldn’t really understand, so I thought: All I can do is prey.

“I asked my coworkers to prey for them, too. At that time I’d just started working there; none of these coworkers knew who I was yet and they definitely didn’t know who my former students were. But when they heard about the situation, they wrote down their names and the details and promised to prey for them. Other coworkers preyed right away with me right there. I was deeply moved.

“I also discovered that many of my Western coworkers had adopted Chinese children. My coworkers aren’t really rich, so I don’t think it’s the same as rich people adopting kids. Adopting kids gives them lots of stress, but that doesn’t stop them. They do things the way G0d does; their love comes from G0d. Those kids were pitiful, no parents, but because they were adopted they have parents and brothers and sisters and an education. Their fate has been changed. I deeply respect these coworkers. They’re like this because they have G0d’s love.”

An Altered Destiny
“My students gave my supervisors positive feedback about my classes, and this really gave me hope that I’d be able to work full-time. The next semester I preyed about it a lot. Friends also preyed with me. Soon became a full-time teacher.

“I’ve worked there for almost a full year now. I really love this place and this job. It’s a good environment; they really care about people and give you lots of support. Sometimes coworkers ask me, “How are you?” I always tell them “Excellent!” because that’s really how I feel. Now that I have steady work that covers my rent, my family can live together and I don’t need to worry about them.”

It’s no surprise that some of Zhū Lǎoshī’s favourite B!ble verses are in Psa!m 23, about how G0d is like a good shepherd who provides His sheep with everything they need.

“I was bapt!zed on Christmas Eve 2009. I’m so thankful I have new life. Now everyday in the evening I prey together with Chinese a friend. This makes me closer and closer to G0d, and He refreshes me and gives me peace. I share the Gospe! with my parents and I hope they will believe, and stay in good health. I think G0d led me to this school. I want to continue working here for a long, long time.”

寻找生命的航标
朱老师来自天津大港，毕业几年间一直作着兼职中文老师的工作。从最初的“蚁族”，到如今能够把父母接到市区一起居住，朱老师经过了不懈的学习和努力。现在他已经shòuxǐ成为一名jīdūtú，这让他的心变得更加柔软，用更多的爱和关怀对待周围的人。通过一年的努力，朱老师终于转正成为专职老师了。他对自己的新生活心存感激。每天他都会虔诚地qídǎo，感谢shàngdì把他带到这所学校，并且希望能一直这样工作下去。

Seeking a Life Buoy
Zhu Laoshi comes from Dagang, Tianjin, and in the few years since graduating has held consecutive Chinese teaching jobs. From being part of the “ant tribe” at first, to nowadays being able to bring his parents to live together in the city, Zhu Laoshi has untiringly studied and worked hard. Now he’s been bapt!zed and become a Chr!stian, and this made his heart change to become softer, and uses even more love and care to treat the people around him. After a year of great effort, Zhu Laoshi finally became a full-time teacher. He has gratitude in his heart for his new life. Every day he will devoutly prey, thanking G0d for bringing him to this school, and also hopes that he can always continue in this kind of job.

[You can read about China's "ant tribe" (蚁族) here, here, here, here, or here.]

Related stuff:

• Meet Mr. Lù – a living Léi Fēng
• Meet Mr. Cháng – Navigating Fate
• Meet Guāng Yuǎn (光远)! (a.k.a ‘Shine Far’)
• Meet Liú Wěi – Coming of Age in a Changing China
• Meet Mrs. Shǐ – Striving Hard for a Stable Future
• One Tianjiner’s first impressions in America
• Two Worlds; One Apartment
• National ‘Face’ & Local Sensitivity (Part 1): Not fit to print in Tianjin
• National ‘Face’ & Local Sensitivity (Part 2): One hour of criticism on the “Regular Zhou” column & Tianjin Olympic interviews video

The Chinese editor at the magazine keeps complaining about the Regular Zhou‘s I’ve been choosing to profile, which include a bike repairman, a sidewalk barber, a parking attendant, a fried noodle vendor and a student. They don’t like the photos of my apparently-not-dressed-well-enough neighbours either. These aren’t the kind of people the boss/censor/overly-sensitive locals (not sure who, exactly) wants shown between the advertisements in a free monthly expat magazine in Tianjin. I’m supposed to find yuppies (“小资“, formerly called “petty bourgeoisie“), or at least wealthy “success” stories. Instead for May’s issue I found this guy, who, it turns out, had a bunch of sensitive stuff to say that normally wouldn’t get published in this city.

I self-censored a lot out before submitting the final draft, but even still none of the people involved on my end had much hope that the magazine would actually print it. In the past the censors have been extremely strict about anything related to Chr!stianity in China — as if they have orders to publicly pretend it isn’t here. Below is what they eventually printed, except for a couple of things:

1. Although they left most of the Chr!stian content in, a couple lines were removed. I added them back in in red below. There were some other odd (to me) editing decisions that seemed to characterized parts of his story in unnecessary ways, but I’ve left most of those alone.
2. I’ve altered the spelling on potentially sensitive words just to avoid triggering any automatic word filters or whatever. I know that’s paranoid, but since censorship enforcement is inconsistent and this is just a personal blog, I’d rather not unduly tempt fate.
3. I replaced their title with my original title (they substituted “Ask and you shall receive”, which I though was lame).

At the end I’ve also included the text and (bad) translation of the Chinese summary that they added, which contains some interesting vocab. Without further ado, here’s May’s Regular Zhou.

A Blessed Life

…one young Tianjin professional discovers something more powerful than fate and more valuable than success

Maybe you’ve seen the aerial photos of Chinese job fairs, the only events whose sprawling, densely-packed crowds could possibly rival those of a Spring Festival train station. China’s alarmingly over-saturated job market is especially tough on males, who first need to establish financial self-sufficiency for themselves and their parents and buy an apartment in the inflated housing market before they’ll be considered marriageable.

Employers benefit from the claustrophobic rat-race; millions of college graduates struggle to find their feet in spite of it. This is one young Tianjiner’s success story, though it’s not merely about transitioning between college and career in modern day Tianjin. This particular Tianjiner, whose Chinese name could be translated as “cultivate hope”, is passionately convinced of something he’s discovered along the way – there’s much more to life than salaries, promotions and apartments.

Sink or Swim
Zhū Lǎoshī (朱老师 / ‘Teacher Zhu’), as he’s known to students and coworkers, was born twenty-five years ago near Long Rainbow Park in Nánkāi (南开). He grew up in the Dàgǎng oil fields (大港油田) before studying teaching Chinese as a foreign language at the Tianjin Foreign Languages University. After four relaxed college years, the pressure was on.

“After graduating I found a part-time job teaching Chinese to foreigners at a private language center,” he says. “I worked there for one and half years. It was hard at first. I was a new teacher with no experience and in class I didn’t teach that well. But the students were really patient and encouraging and my coworkers helped me prepare lessons. They gave me lots of help and basically taught me how to teach.

“At the time my parents still lived in Dàgǎng but my job was in Héxī (河西). My part-time income wasn’t enough to rent an apartment, but my bosses provided a free place to stay for two months. Eventually I rented a small two-bedroom with five roommates. Every weekend I’d go home to Dàgǎng and my mom would make enough food for the whole week plus some to share with my friends.

“Working at the language center really gave me a lot of help. I made a lot of friends, I learned how to teach and work, and gained experience. Yet, while I was happy to begin with, during the third semester things got really difficult. With my lack of experience I was still only part-time and wasn’t making much money. I hated the idea of leaving because my students and coworkers were really great. But I couldn’t see my future there; that last semester was pretty painful. It was sad, but I stopped working there in February 2009.”

An Open Door
“I considered starting my own small business, but within one month of leaving the language center, one of my friends who works at a private school in town mentioned they were looking for a Chinese teacher. At first I wasn’t that interested, but when I found out there were Chr!stians working at this school I became really interested. I’d heard the Gospe! for the first time over a year before and I’d continued studying the B!ble. I wasn’t a Chr!stian then, but I’d started to believe. I believed there was a G0d and I’d had some really moving experiences, so I really hoped I could have some Chr!stian coworkers. I started preparing my application the very next day. I also started thinking a lot about how I’d come to believe in G0d.

“The interview went really well. On April 12 I moved out of my crowded apartment and moved my parents out of the oil fields into an apartment in Héxī where we live together. Two days later I received the call from the school and started working part-time on the 16th. I was extremely happy.”

Deep Impressions
“When I’d just started at my new job I saw the students’ art work and heard their songs – they were beautiful. They did science experiments and studied happily – they all had happy smiling faces. They were all really obedient, so different from the 90’s kids at my Chinese school. I could see it’s because this school provides a good environment. The school also held fun relationship-building activities for the teachers, students and parents. I really wanted to work there full-time.

“At the end of April I heard that two of my former students were having complications with their pregnancy. I was worried, but they’d returned to Canada to have the baby and I was in Tianjin. I wasn’t married, I couldn’t really understand, so I thought: All I can do is prey.

“I asked my coworkers to prey for them, too. At that time I’d just started working there; none of these coworkers knew who I was yet and they definitely didn’t know who my former students were. But when they heard about the situation, they wrote down their names and the details and promised to prey for them. Other coworkers preyed right away with me right there. I was deeply moved.

“I also discovered that many of my Western coworkers had adopted Chinese children. My coworkers aren’t really rich, so I don’t think it’s the same as rich people adopting kids. Adopting kids gives them lots of stress, but that doesn’t stop them. They do things the way G0d does; their love comes from G0d. Those kids were pitiful, no parents, but because they were adopted they have parents and brothers and sisters and an education. Their fate has been changed. I deeply respect these coworkers. They’re like this because they have G0d’s love.”

An Altered Destiny
“My students gave my supervisors positive feedback about my classes, and this really gave me hope that I’d be able to work full-time. The next semester I preyed about it a lot. Friends also preyed with me. Soon became a full-time teacher.

“I’ve worked there for almost a full year now. I really love this place and this job. It’s a good environment; they really care about people and give you lots of support. Sometimes coworkers ask me, “How are you?” I always tell them “Excellent!” because that’s really how I feel. Now that I have steady work that covers my rent, my family can live together and I don’t need to worry about them.”

It’s no surprise that some of Zhū Lǎoshī’s favourite B!ble verses are in Psa!m 23, about how G0d is like a good shepherd who provides His sheep with everything they need.

“I was bapt!zed on Christmas Eve 2009. I’m so thankful I have new life. Now everyday in the evening I prey together with Chinese a friend. This makes me closer and closer to G0d, and He refreshes me and gives me peace. I share the Gospe! with my parents and I hope they will believe, and stay in good health. I think G0d led me to this school. I want to continue working here for a long, long time.”

寻找生命的航标
朱老师来自天津大港，毕业几年间一直作着兼职中文老师的工作。从最初的“蚁族”，到如今能够把父母接到市区一起居住，朱老师经过了不懈的学习和努力。现在他已经shòuxǐ成为一名jīdūtú，这让他的心变得更加柔软，用更多的爱和关怀对待周围的人。通过一年的努力，朱老师终于转正成为专职老师了。他对自己的新生活心存感激。每天他都会虔诚地qídǎo，感谢shàngdì把他带到这所学校，并且希望能一直这样工作下去。

Seeking a Life Buoy
Zhu Laoshi comes from Dagang, Tianjin, and in the few years since graduating has held consecutive Chinese teaching jobs. From being part of the “ant tribe” at first, to nowadays being able to bring his parents to live together in the city, Zhu Laoshi has untiringly studied and worked hard. Now he’s been bapt!zed and become a Chr!stian, and this made his heart change to become softer, and uses even more love and care to treat the people around him. After a year of great effort, Zhu Laoshi finally became a full-time teacher. He has gratitude in his heart for his new life. Every day he will devoutly prey, thanking G0d for bringing him to this school, and also hopes that he can always continue in this kind of job.

[You can read about China's "ant tribe" (蚁族) here, here, here, here, or here.]

Related stuff:

• Meet Mr. Lù – a living Léi Fēng
• Meet Mr. Cháng – Navigating Fate
• Meet Guāng Yuǎn (光远)! (a.k.a ‘Shine Far’)
• Meet Liú Wěi – Coming of Age in a Changing China
• Meet Mrs. Shǐ – Striving Hard for a Stable Future
• One Tianjiner’s first impressions in America
• Two Worlds; One Apartment
• National ‘Face’ & Local Sensitivity (Part 1): Not fit to print in Tianjin
• National ‘Face’ & Local Sensitivity (Part 2): One hour of criticism on the “Regular Zhou” column & Tianjin Olympic interviews video

It’s Tomb Sweeping Day (清明节 / qīng míng jié), the time when families go maintain their ancestors’ graves and burn offerings to them. See the links at the bottom for more about Tomb Sweeping Day and the tradition of burning spirit money. These photos are from around our neighbourhood tonight.

According to one of our Chinese tutors, who has a law degree and teaches at Tianda for her day job, among Tianjin’s new April enforcement of previously unenforced laws (like spitting and bikes going through red lights) is a crackdown on street vendors. That includes the little wheelie carts selling spirit money and a surprising variety of other paper offerings.

Burning paper money in the street is not illegal, according to our tutor, but it is discouraged and in some cases grudgingly accommodated (see the propaganda posters in this post). Selling the spirit money, however, is illegal, and apparently they’ve had the obligatory news stories of vendors getting raided, etc.

If they stop letting bikes go through red lights (traffic has been noticeably changing) I’m going to be bummed. I have a couple language school buddies who’ve developed a whole set of terms a la CHiPS for essential bike rider maneuvers in Tianjin traffic. Looks like our days of no-rules, every-person-for-themselves, in-the-way-means-right-of-way bike riding might be numbered.

More about Tomb Sweeping Day and burning money in the road:

• Tomb Sweeping Day
• Sending Winter Clothes to the Dead in Tianjin
• After church in Tianjin, Karaoke party, Burning ghost money
• There’s hell to pay
• Same planet, different worlds

It’s Tomb Sweeping Day (清明节 / qīng míng jié), the time when families go maintain their ancestors’ graves and burn offerings to them. See the links at the bottom for more about Tomb Sweeping Day and the tradition of burning spirit money. These photos are from around our neighbourhood tonight.

According to one of our Chinese tutors, who has a law degree and teaches at Tianda for her day job, among Tianjin’s new April enforcement of previously unenforced laws (like spitting and bikes going through red lights) is a crackdown on street vendors. That includes the little wheelie carts selling spirit money and a surprising variety of other paper offerings.

Burning paper money in the street is not illegal, according to our tutor, but it is discouraged and in some cases grudgingly accommodated (see the propaganda posters in this post). Selling the spirit money, however, is illegal, and apparently they’ve had the obligatory news stories of vendors getting raided, etc.

If they stop letting bikes go through red lights (traffic has been noticeably changing) I’m going to be bummed. I have a couple language school buddies who’ve developed a whole set of terms a la CHiPS for essential bike rider maneuvers in Tianjin traffic. Looks like our days of no-rules, every-person-for-themselves, in-the-way-means-right-of-way bike riding might be numbered.

More about Tomb Sweeping Day and burning money in the road:

• Tomb Sweeping Day
• Sending Winter Clothes to the Dead in Tianjin
• After church in Tianjin, Karaoke party, Burning ghost money
• There’s hell to pay
• Same planet, different worlds

The Bi Gan Temple (比干庙) near Xīnxiāng (新乡) in Hénán (河南) claims 3000 years of history, priceless historical treasures and the two kinds of mythological figures especially beloved by Mainland Chinese: money gods and honest government officials. Click the link or the photos below to read the somewhat gruesome legend and see the photo gallery:

Bi Gan Temple 比干庙 near Xinxiang, Henan 新乡，河南 – 2010 Feb 22

The Bi Gan Temple (比干庙) near Xīnxiāng (新乡) in Hénán (河南) claims 3000 years of history, priceless historical treasures and the two kinds of mythological figures especially beloved by Mainland Chinese: money gods and honest government officials. Click the link or the photos below to read the somewhat gruesome legend and see the photo gallery:

Bi Gan Temple 比干庙 near Xinxiang, Henan 新乡，河南 – 2010 Feb 22