Performance of the Shaolin Monks
Menghun

Upon our arrival to Menghun, Iris and I walked past a group of what certainly appeared to be Shaolin monks who were putting up posters were talking with each other. I didn’t think too much of it. They seemed friendly, but it was only my third day in China and perhaps this was a regular phenomenon. Later in the day, after checking into our “hotel,” we were walking down the main street when the Shaolin monk crowd were playing music and walking around (parading, that is) with large, colorful flags. They were very friendly and seemed to enjoy the fact that Iris and I had gotten our cameras out and were taking pictures of them. We walked around a bit, and kept seeing the monks. Iris even said to me, “If we see those guys one more time, I’m joining them.” Of course we did see them again – in fact we saw them two more times, but apparently Iris had changed her mind since she did return to Jinghong with me the next day.

The next time we saw our Shaolin friends was when Iris and I had found a nice little place to eat and were just settling in to wait for a delicious dinner. They appeared excited to see us. In fact, they sat down at our table, grabbed my notebook away and looked at it, and began talking to us in Chinese. Iris understood a bit and was able to communicate with our Shaolin friends; I, on the other hand, was clueless. I did figure out, when they saw my camera, that 2 of them wanted us to take our pictures with them. We were happy to oblige, and I am very pleased with the result. After our food was served, they took off, and we were unsure if we would see them again. We should have known better because later that evening, after I had returned to the room to put on my many layers to protect me from the cold, we heard them over a megaphone trying to get people to come see their performance which was to take place that evening! They had posters, a television, and a megaphone trying to get the people of Menghun to come see their show. At 5 Yuan (less than a 75 cents), how could we resist? They were thrilled to see Iris and me, as usual, and escorted us to seats they thought would be good for getting photographs.

As we sat there in the little theater, freezing to death, we realized that we had no idea whatsoever when the performance began. The sad thing was that the only other people in the theater were a group of kids and a parent in the front row. We sat there for probably 15 minutes and began to wonder how much longer we should sit there before giving up and leaving. It was very cold, and the theater was not filling up at all. It was very sad to think of the effort of the Shaolin guys to get people to attend their show, only to have a small handful of people. We shouldn’t have worried so much. At about 5 minutes (or less) before 8 pm, the theater suddenly got fuller and fuller. In fact, the other 4 Westerners in town showed up as well. By the time the performance began, the theater was nearly full! It was pretty incredible, and we were glad to see all of the other people. Then the suspense of what we were about to see took over.

I don’t think the show even lasted an hour, but it certainly was interesting. Keep in mind that music blared though most of the performance. Perhaps one might think that music during a Shaolin performance would be some type of traditional Chinese style music, but in fact this was not the case. Loud, Euro-techno music played very loudly almost the entire time, adding another layer of surrealism to the whole scenario. There were 2 younger boys performing who were clearly training with the older men; these boys were dressed in orange and did routines such as kung fu moves with swords in between the bigger acts. And what were the bigger acts? Well, we had a guy contort his body to move it through a small metal ring whose diameter was probably a foot or so; a guy who drove a piece of metal through his elbow and carried around a bucket full of water; another guy who put a metal pole against his throat and pushed a group of 3-4 men across the stage (who were trying to resist by pushing against a board); and yet another guy who wound a metal pole around his neck over and over again. In recounting these performances, I think I am leaving something out, but I can’t really remember. It was pretty fun though (and gruesome at times). Each time the Shaolin performer got up to do his thing, he would wind a piece of red cloth tightly around his waist, then pay his respects to the Kuanyin image on the backdrop they had set up on stage.

After the main performances, things get even weirder when the main monk sat in the middle of the stage and talked for probably 15 minutes. As he talked, the performers came out and sold things to the audience: little daggers, lighting-up Buddha image key rings, plastic Kuanyin images, bells, etc. He talked nonstop the whole time, and no one paid any attention whatsoever. Except, of course, the Westerners who had no idea what he was saying but felt so bad that he was up there talking with all the commotion. It was very strange. Iris and I met up with the other 4 Westerners after the performance, and we had all concluded separately that perhaps the Shaolin performers had been instructed not to return to the stage until they had sold everything, because they were walking around for a very long time. After they did finally stop selling their goods, the lead monk-guy who had been talking that whole time performed a grand finale for us: he broke a wine bottle without ever touching it. He broke it by throwing his energy at it. Very exciting to see, I have to say. And then it was over, and I remembered how cold I was, especially after walking out into the crisp night air.