Entering the Lamasery--The Lama's dwelling--Novices--Were we in a
trap?--Images--Oblations--Urghin--The holy water, the veil of
friendship, and absolution--Musical instruments, books, &c.--God
and the Trinity--Heaven and hell--A mystery.
AFTER Chanden Sing and I had entered into the Lamasery, the large door,
which had been pushed wide open, was immediately closed. We were in a
spacious courtyard, three sides of which had two tiers of galleries
supported by columns. This was the _Lhaprang_, or Lama's house, and
directly in front of me was the _Lha Kang_, or temple, the floor of which
was raised some five feet above the level of the ground, with a very
large door leading into it. At this entrance were, one on either side,
recesses in which, by the side of a big drum, squatted two Lamas with
books of prayers before them, a praying-wheel and a rosary in their
hands, the beads of which they shifted after every prayer. At our
appearance the monks ceased their prayers and beat the drums in an
excited manner. From what I could judge, there was a commotion in the
Gomba. Lamas, old and young, rushed to and fro out of their rooms, while
a number of Chibbis or novices--boys between the ages of twelve and
twenty--lined the banisters of the upper verandah with expressions of
evident suspense and curiosity depicted on their faces. No doubt the
Lamas had prepared a trap for us. I warned Chanden Sing to be on the
alert, and set him on guard at the entrance of the temple, while I,
depositing a few silver coins on the drum of the Lama to my right, took
off my shoes in sign of respect and--much to the amazement of the
monks--quietly entered the house of worship. Partly astonished at the
sight of the silver, and more so at my want of caution, the Lamas, of
whom there was a good number in the courtyard, remained motionless and
mute. The high Lama, or Father Superior of the monastery, at last came
forward, stooping low and placing one thumb above the other and putting
his tongue out to show his superlative approval of my visit to the many
images representing deities or sanctified Buddhist heroes which were
grouped along the walls of the temple. The largest of these were about
five feet high, the others about three feet. Some were carved out of
wood, their drapery and ornaments being fairly artistic in arrangement
and execution, while others were fashioned in gilt metal. There were a
number in a sitting posture and some standing erect; and they all rested
on ornamented pedestals or plainer bases painted blue, red, white and
yellow. Many wore the ancient Chinese double-winged cap, as used to this
day by Corean officials, and were placed in recesses in the wall
decorated with stuffs, wood carvings, and rough paintings of images.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE TUCKER TEMPLE]
At the foot of these images was a long shelf, on which, in bright brass
vessels of all sizes, were oblations of _tsamba_, dried fruit, _chura_,
wheat and rice offered through the Lamas by the devotees to the different
saints. Some of the ears of barley were ornamented with imitation leaves
of _murr_ (butter), coloured red, blue and yellow.
The ceiling of the temple was draped in red woollen cloth similar to that
of the clothes worn by the Lamas themselves, and from it hung hundreds of
strips of silk, wool and cotton of all imaginable colours. The roof was
supported by columns of wood forming a quadrangle in the centre of the
temple and joined by a balustrade, compelling the worshippers to make a
circuit from left to right in order to pass before the several images. In
a shrine in the central part of the wall facing the entrance was _Urghin_
or _Kunjuk-chick_, "God alone," and in front of it on a kind of altar
covered with a carpet a collection of donations far more abundant than
those offered to the other images.
The Lama, pointing at it, told me that it was a good God, and so I
salaamed it and deposited a small offering in a handy collection-box,
which seemed to please the Lama greatly, for he at once fetched a holy
water amphora, hung with long veils of friendship and love, and poured
some scented liquid on the palms of my hands. Then, producing a strip of
veil, he wetted it with the scent and presented it to me. The majority of
pilgrims generally go round the inside of the temple on their knees, but,
notwithstanding that, to avoid offending prejudices, I generally follow
the principle of doing in Rome as the Romans do, I could not here afford
the chance of placing myself at such a disadvantage in case of a
surprise. The high Lama explained the different images and threw handfuls
of rice over them as he called them by their respective names, all of
which I tried hard to remember, but, alas! before I could get back to the
_serai_ and scribble down their appellations, they had all escaped my
memory. A separate entrance led from the living part of the monastery
into the temple.
Lights, burning in brass bowls, their wicks being fed with melted butter,
were scattered on the floor in the central quadrangle, and near them lay
oblong books of prayers printed on the smooth yellow Tibetan paper made
from a fibrous bark. Near these books were small drums and cymbals. One
double drum, I noticed, was made from reversed sections of human skulls,
and my attention was also attracted by some peculiar headgear worn by the
Lamas during their services and ceremonies. On these occasions they not
only accompany their chanting and prayers with the beating of drums and
clashing of cymbals, but they at the same time make a noise on cane
flutes, tinkle hand-bells, and sound a large gong. The noise of these
instruments is at times so great that the prayers themselves are quite
inaudible. Unfortunately, I failed to see any of the awe-inspiring masks
which are used by Lamas in their eccentric and mystic dances, during
which, when the Lamas spend the whole day in the temple, they consume
much tea with butter and salt in it, which is brought to them in cups by
Lamas of an inferior order, acting as servants. They pass hour after hour
in their temples apparently absolutely absorbed in praying to the God
above all gods, the incarnation of all the saints together united in a
trinity, the _Kunjuk-Sum_.
_Kunjuk-Sum_, translated literally, means "the three deities," and some
take it to refer to the elements, air, water and fire, which in the
Tibetan mind are symbols of speech, charity and force and life. One great
point in Buddhism, as everyone knows, is the advocation of love and
respect to one's father and mother and the prohibition against injuring
one's neighbours in any way. According to the precepts contained in some
eight hundred volumes called the Kajars, the Tibetans believe in a heaven
(the Deva Tsembo) free from all anxieties of human existence, full of
love and joy, and ruled over by a god of infinite goodness, helped by
countless disciples called the _Chanchubs_, who spend their existence in
performing charitable deeds among living creatures. With a number of
intermediate places of happiness and punishment they even believe in a
hell, where the souls of sinners are tormented by fire and ice.
"God sees and knows everything, and He is everywhere," exclaimed the
Lama, "but we cannot see Him. Only the _Chanchubs_ can see and speak to
Him."
"What are the evil qualities to be mostly avoided?" I inquired of the
high Lama, who spoke a little Hindustani.
"Luxury, pride and envy," he replied.
"Do you ever expect to become a saint?" I asked him.
"Yes, I hope so, but it takes five hundred transmigrations of an
uncontaminated soul before one can be one."
Then, as if waking to a sudden thought, he seized my hand impulsively and
spread my fingers open. Having done this, he muttered two or three words
of surprise. His face became serious, even solemn, and he treated me with
strange obsequiousness. Rushing out of the temple, he went to inform the
other Lamas of his discovery, whatever it was. They crowded round him,
and from their words and gestures it was easy to see that they were
bewildered.
When I left the company of the strange idols and came into the courtyard,
every Lama wished to examine and touch my hand, and the sudden change in
their behaviour was to me a source of great curiosity, until I learnt the
real cause of it some weeks later.