by Charles DeBenedetto
(a Tudi Gong shrine in Yunlin County. Photo Credit: Xiute.net)
When I first arrived in Taiwan, I
had a backpack, one piece of luggage, and my guitar. Everything I owned
probably was not even worth enough New Taiwan Dollars (NTD) to purchase a
one-way ticket home. So, to paraphrase Robert Frost, “the only way out was
through.”
How is it that a foreign place eventually becomes a home? It is partly the friends and family that you make, and partly the gradual acclimation to everything that once was scary and draining to endure. Buying train tickets and communicating destinations to cab drivers gets easier, and learning basic language skills to order food in restaurants reduces your frustrations. But, for me, and for many Taiwanese as well, a large part of a place becoming a home is becoming acquainted with Tudi Gong.
How is it that a foreign place eventually becomes a home? It is partly the friends and family that you make, and partly the gradual acclimation to everything that once was scary and draining to endure. Buying train tickets and communicating destinations to cab drivers gets easier, and learning basic language skills to order food in restaurants reduces your frustrations. But, for me, and for many Taiwanese as well, a large part of a place becoming a home is becoming acquainted with Tudi Gong.
Tudi Gong (土地公), literally the “God of the Earth” is a god with
a specific jurisdiction. He may be all powerful, but only within the bounds of
his district or neighborhood. And so, every few blocks or so, as you wander
side streets in Taiwan, you are bound to find a Tudi Gong shrine. Some are
elaborate, such as the ones in downtown districts, and some are so small that
you will certainly miss them if you are not looking for them. For me
personally, it was several months before I found my Tudi Gong shrine, a humble
little pavilion, with the curving roof, green dragons on top, and incense bowl
out front.
There are
several elderly Taiwanese sitting around the shrine, some walking in the park
beside it. I notice that there is a large tree next to it; that is deliberate,
a connection to nature in an otherwise unnatural city. I purchase some incense,
light it, and, while still holding the incense, put my hands together in prayer.
In front of me, Tudi Gong is sitting at the altar, a small figurine clothed in
special silk robes, alongside his wife, Tudi Po (土地婆).
(Tudi Gong and Tudi
Po, with plastic bowls with offerings of sweet treats for them. Photo Credit: Liberty Times Net)
“Hello,
Tudi Gong and Tudi Po. I have come a long way to live and work here in Taiwan. Please
welcome me into your neighborhood, and protect me. I will do my best to make Taiwan a better
place through my hard work and interactions with others. Please protect Taiwan,
thank you.”
For most
Taiwanese, it is customary to visit your local Tudi Gong shrine when you move
away, to say goodbye, and when you move into a new home, to introduce yourself.
Special days in the lunar calendar also call for a visit to Tudi Gong, and
special events in your life, such as a marriage. Even buying a new scooter
(moped) warrants a visit to Tudi Gong, to hover incense over your new vehicle
to protect you in your travels. As a foreigner in Taiwan, it is easy to feel as
if you don’t belong, despite the Taiwanese people’s famous hospitality, but, it
was grounding (pun unintended) to meet the God of the Earth, to know that, at
least in his eyes, I belong here now.
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