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Culture Travel

Finding tranquility amid a mass of tourists

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2015-08-14 14:01chinadaily.com.cn Editor: Si Huan
The Yungang Grottos in Shanxi province.(Photo by Deepankar Aron/For chinadaily.com.cn)

The Yungang Grottos in Shanxi province.(Photo by Deepankar Aron/For chinadaily.com.cn)

A secluded pond across the boulevard at the Yungang Grottoes remains as clear in my mind as its water was the day I left my group to sit peacefully beside the carp. Many of my group had lost sight of each other when we entered the Imperial Grotto Temple, fashioned like a fortress but lustered with gold-colored facsimiles of spiritual deities to please the mass of tourists making pilgrimages to Shanxi's famed site for prayer.

Its walkway of sandy stone pillars is spectacular. So too is the coal-black tree in its square, dappled with leaves that appear gold-plated. Still, as I waited for groups of eager travelers to stroll past its wonders, crossing the bridge that connected us to thousands of carved Buddhas in caves, the graying skyline formed a dome over the site and I discovered how serene and moving even attractions created less than 10 years earlier could be.

Strangely, it was these sites, not the miles of carved rock architecture ahead, which captivated me. Cool Spring Cave, Stone Drum Cave — the information plaques in Chinese and English identified the many grottoes for curious visitors. Tourists crowded closely behind each other just to squeeze in and take photos of giant Buddhas, of each other with the Buddhas, and even their dogs with the Buddhas. For me, an unripe traveler, it was Yungang's more overlooked territories that suited my pace.

Stone steps across the avenue of travelers led me to that peaceful pond filled with koi where I sat and listened to the hubbub of tourists metamorphose into the buzzing rhythm of summer cicadas. Birds plunged in and out of the forest canopy before trying to cling to the open eyelids of 7-meter-high Buddha statues. However, it was a small rocky hillside just before the lineup of caves, where two children and their mother played in the desert-like foliage before the cliffs, which drew me away.

The plaques and identifications all began to escape me the higher I climbed. Voices in the park in the distance droned on, combining all the sounds of the earth. An obscure "Om" hypnotized me as if the voice of every weathered statue hidden in the hill's rock face was meditating in unison, hidden from the busy tourist lineup so they could, like me, just "be'".

There were no flashing cameras up here, only a small temple where a monk in black and grey linen leaned on a wooden railing while incense burned in the small yard's censer. Two Chinese boys jokingly spoke in broken English while mimicking the dialogue of old Chinese Kung Fu films. They shouted, "Uncle", and tried campy Tai Chi moves, as they happily mimicked a strange piece of Western fiction.

I smiled and reminisced about similar experiences with my colleagues while traveling all over Shanxi. I recalled the kinds of play that come organically and enthusiastically with the joy of traveling the province before our final destination. I remembered the joy that came while sitting serenely among the smiles of 50, 000 Buddhas. And I thought to myself, Only in Shanxi.

  

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