We approach the temple through a glade of bamboo and pine,
with little piles of rocks at the side of the path which represent Buddhist
pagodas, a throwback to shamanistic times when people prayed to rocks and trees.
The temple courtyard is bathed in sunlight. From the wooden pavilions comes the sound of a monk chanting
slowly, the tocking of a wooden bell. The main hall was built in 1621, though
the existence of a temple here dates back much further. So many temple
buildings were burned down during invasions and have been rebuilt over and
over. The great bell has survived longer, from 1097.
What I find breathtakingly beautiful, though, is the carving
and painting of the wood just below the heavy roof tiles; the dragons and
phoenix and lotus blossoms.
Yuri points out the delightful wooden figure of an
unfortunate naked woman crouching, holding up the roof. The story? The
architect’s lover ran away during the years he was working on the building, so
in revenge and as a warning against unfaithfulness, he consigned this figure of
her to hold up the building for eternity.
