Saturday 22 February 2014

Fragrant Harbour by Kate Lord Brown


Man Mo Temple - and the god of Literature

TEN VIRTUES OF INCENSE

It brings communication with the transcendent.
It refreshes mind and body.
It removes impurity.
It brings alertness. 
It is a companion in solitude. 
In the midst of busy affairs, it brings a moment of peace. 
When it is plentiful, one never tires of it. 
When there is little, still one is satisfied. 
Age does not change its efficacy. 
Used everyday, it does no harm. 

~Huang Tingjian Song Dynasty


The intoxicating smell of Hong Kong was described perfectly by Martin Booth in 'Gweilo': "Wherever I went, the air was redolent with the smells of wood smoke, joss-sticks, boiling rice and human excrement …'' Walking out into the night streets of Kowloon last week for the first time in fifteen years, the scent was exhilarating - rich incense, fetid durian fruits, meat roasting on roadside braziers, cigarette smoke, exhaust fumes. Much had changed since I travelled round the world with hand luggage, (not least that with two small children in tow it was now more noodles and an early night than Somerset Maugham and cocktails at The Pen). But the smell hadn't changed a bit.

The Chinese have used incense for over two thousand years, in worship and at home. From the pyramids of Egypt to the temple of Jerusalem and the giant swinging thurible of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, incense permeates our daily and spiritual human existence. Here in the Middle East you find small wood or metal 'mabkharas' burning Oud (agar wood) or bakhoor (woodchips moulded with resin, ambergris, musk, sandalwood, essential oils), everywhere from outside the doors of Carrefour to private homes. It's traditional for abayas and thobes to be perfumed by carefully standing over the mabkhara and allowing the incense to impregnate the fabric.

In Hong Kong I loved revisiting the Man Mo temple again, and it hadn't changed (unlike the rest of Hollywood Road, where junk shops and curio stores have given way to Ralph Lauren and chichi bars). That night brushing my children's hair, I could still smell the wonderful incense from the huge coils suspended from the ceiling above the gods of War and Literature. (That's the god of Literature's brass pen/brush top left - devotees light incense then give it a rub for luck or inspiration).

The most touching offerings are the small ones, like the tiny shrine (below), that someone had set up in an alleyway near Central. It reminded me of Bali, where you would wake to find offerings of flowers and incence burning in folded leaves in the door and gateways, or the spirit houses of Thailand where incense jostles with bottles of Yakult. Timeless, intimate acts of devotion whose origins are lost in history.

For those of you who write about the East, have you come across much about the history and use of incense? I wonder when it was first imported to Europe? I brought a bundle of joss sticks back, and burnt them on the first night home. Here, the effect sadly conjured more of my teenage purple tented bedroom than the exotic streets of the East. Perhaps this is one thing that is 'lost in translation', and I'll stick to my favourite 'Sacristy' candle for writing and inspiration: "THE STILLNESS AND BEAUTY WE FOUND IN AN ANCIENT CHAPEL. WOODEN PANELLING WITH YEARS OF BEESWAX POLISH, LEATHER-BOUND PRAYER BOOKS, PILLAR CANDLES AND A HINT OF INCENSE".


3 comments:

Leslie Wilson said...

Smells - absolutely, that is Hong Kong, and the smell of incense still transports me back, though the memory that comes first is usually a sleepy little temple on one of the islands, or else the temple on Cheung Chau on the day of the Bun Festival when children dressed as gods and heroes are carried high in the air round the island. And the stink of durian, and DRAINS. I haven't been there now for thirteen and a half years, so much will have changed. But we lived there in the 80s, nowadays visitors, coming off planes, are no longer greeted with the smell of the nullah at Kai Tak, always insalubrious. I also remember the smell of shrimp paste drying - oh, I could go on forever.. Thank you for this blog, Kate!

Leslie Wilson said...

Smells - absolutely, that is Hong Kong, and the smell of incense still transports me back, though the memory that comes first is usually a sleepy little temple on one of the islands, or else the temple on Cheung Chau on the day of the Bun Festival when children dressed as gods and heroes are carried high in the air round the island. And the stink of durian, and DRAINS. I haven't been there now for thirteen and a half years, so much will have changed. But we lived there in the 80s, nowadays visitors, coming off planes, are no longer greeted with the smell of the nullah at Kai Tak, always insalubrious. I also remember the smell of shrimp paste drying - oh, I could go on forever.. Thank you for this blog, Kate!

Dianne Hofmeyr said...

Hong Hong will always be for me that smell at the old Kai Tak airport and the smell that wafts from the Man Mo Temple mixed with Peking duck and drains as you said Leslie.
Great post. Sticks of incense found in sand are often used to date shipwrecks esp of those during Portuguese exploration. Another use other than a priestly one has also been discovered. Wrecked sailors used incense to caulk makeshift boats that they built on the beaches from wreckage in the hopes of an escape. I've read a wonderful report on this in the case of the wreck of the Sao Goncalo off the coast of South Africa in 1630.