Professional Documents
Culture Documents
1 About the scope and method of research: The temple parades the authors
observed took place in different locations in Taipei city and county. The photos
which accompany this article were shot either in San Chung City 三重市, or the
Wan Hua district 萬華區 of Taipei or an area of Taipei City near the Danshui
River 淡水河. They were shot either in 2007 or 2008. As to the various facts about
the temple parades, the sources for these were interviews of Taiwanese con‑
ducted by Mr. Kennedy.
198 / Journal of Daoist Studies 2 (2009)
stride about with somewhat of a John Wayne swagger and bravado.
Heads hung low in modesty or religious supplication is not their style.
And although a number of the deities seen in such parades, such as
Mazu 媽祖 or Pangu 盤古, have no direct connection to the military or to
martial episodes, many of the most popular ones, such as Lord Guan 關
帝 or the 7 th and 8 th Lords 七爺,八爺 are military figures.
Standard Elements
Taiwanese temple parades usually involve a number of stock perform‑
ances and standard elements. They include hand‑drawn carts or mini‑
trucks bearing commemorative plaques naming the involved temples or
carrying the deities. Stilt walkers, mega‑puppets, Lion and Dragon danc‑
ers, Eight Generals teams, musicians either in truck beds or on foot with
mobile amplifiers also appear. Two distinct groups accompany the dei‑
ties on foot, wearing a common uniform that usual consists of T‑shirts
and ball caps bearing the name of the temple. One group usually has
somewhat rough looking young men; the other—in sharp contrast—has
merry older folks, both men and women. The former group can loosely
be defined as temple parade security; the latter comprises the faithful
who believe they gather divine favor by accompanying the parades.
How many of these elements any given parade has depends on the
economic resources of the temple. For example, Eight Generals perform‑
ance troupes are not so common; nor are Lion or Dragon dance teams.
Yet even modestly endowed temples can afford one or more mega‑
puppets and some form of music to accompany the deities on their tour.
Mega Puppets
Mega puppets are the highest profile aspect of any temple procession.
They are bigger than life and represent various deities and historical fig‑
ures. The performers handling them need stamina, keen balance, as well
as other qualities that characterize Chinese martial arts.
The more ornate puppets can be over two and a half meters tall;
they are constructed of wood and bamboo. The head and the hands are
made of wood, while the torso and arms consist of a bamboo frame cov‑
ered with thick, expensive clothing. One person manipulates them; he
Kennedy & Guo, “Temple Parades”/ 199
sees out the little window in the god’s stomach area. Inside the puppet is
a harness arrangement with two large shoulder straps and a bamboo
control bar attached to the puppet’s body. The performer can rotate the
torso left and right by gripping the control bar, which has two hand
holds. He wears the puppet somewhat like putting on a large backpack.
“Mega‑puppets” on the move.
and wayward moves. Given the high‑centered weight of the puppet,
handling it requires that the person must be able to keep both his and the
puppet’s weight centered and move as a coordinated and connected unit.
His actions must be deliberate, slow, and controlled.
His appearance is a macabre reflection of having died by hanging.
The other one has a bloated, puffy face, the result of having drowned. In
addition, both often have a large round bread hanging from their neck,
which somewhat resembles a very large bagel. This bagel has a military
history connection. In Taiwanese folklore, it is called General Qi Bread,
named after the famous Ming general Qi Jiguang 戚繼光 who allegedly
202 / Journal of Daoist Studies 2 (2009)
invented the loaf to provide a durable staple for his troops in the south‑
ern amphibious campaigns; they are a kind of Chinese hardtack. 2
Stilt Walkers
Equally high above the crowd are the performers walking on stilts. The
stilt walkers depict different gods and their attendants, such as Guan
Gong.
Stilt walkers portraying Guan Gong and his attendants
2 Whether Taiwanese folklore reflects historical reality, we have no idea.
General Qi fills the same kind of mythic role in southern China as General Yue
Fei did in the north.
Kennedy & Guo, “Temple Parades”/ 203
The wooden stilts are tied to the performers’ feet with a stirrup arrange‑
ment. No hand grips come up from the stilts, so quite a degree of skill is
required.
The stilt walkers tend to be far more mobile than the mega puppets
and are thus more likely to interact with the crowds lining the procession.
Of course walking on the stilts can be dangerous, particularly given the
potholes, oil slicks, broken asphalt, and general litter that make up the
average Taiwanese street. So, the stilt walkers are attended by spotters;
they literally and figuratively move up as their skill and experience in‑
crease. In the beginning, they will portray a minor figure in the parade
and use stilts that are only about half a meter high. As their skill is noted,
they will eventually advance to more important figures which involves
higher stilts and more ornate costumes—a greater chance of falling over
due to weight.
The costumes and the make‑up both come largely from the many
forms of Chinese opera. Aficionados easily recognize what historical
personage, mythical figure, or deity is being shown. The general public
who may not be quite so familiar with Chinese myths or Chinese opera
yet can tell whether the performer is martial or civil, the two major cate‑
gories of characters. They can also discern their relative importance by
their physical height.
We have spoken of the deities “preferring” this or that and we
choose that wording quite on purpose because it makes an important
point regarding the ontology of these icons. Sometimes in discussions of
Taiwanese religious it will be said that the statutes that are present in
Daoist temples and temple parades are “representations” or “symbols”
of the deity. They are not. In the traditional Chinese view,3 the statutes
are the deity and not mere symbols. When we say they are the deity we
mean that in an ontological sense, the piece of wood has become the de‑
ity.
The process by which carved wood becomes a deity is complicated,
a kind of Taiwanese Pinocchio story. Certain carvers specialize in carv‑
ing deities. If an individual or temple wants a new deity the first step is
to ask the deity if they would like to reside in the temple or the individ‑
ual’s home, as the case maybe. This asking can be done any of a number
of ways the most common is via the use of “divination blocks” 筊.4 If the
deity agrees to reside at the temple or house, the next step is to contact a
temple that already has a “living” or “empowered” deity of the same
god, for example, Mazu or Guan Gong. The temple will ask their deity if
it is okay to empower the new deity. If he or she agrees, the donor is ex‑
pected to pay a fee, which may be quite large but matches an amount
discussed in advance. Once everything is settled, the donor can commis‑
sion a carver to fashion the deity.
Next the donor should consult a fortune‑teller to determine an aus‑
picious day to bring the deity to life. Once a day is set, the donor obtains
a certain amount of incense ash from the parent temple to take to the
carver. The latter next drills holes in the back base of the statue and, on
3 We are speaking in generalities. Given the old and wide river which is
Chinese religion there are no doubt some teachers and schools that will view the
wooden statutes as “representations” but they are the rare minority view.
4 These divination blocks come in pairs and are sometimes in english re‑
ferred to as “moon blocks” because of their half moon shape. The questioner will
hold the blocks in their hands and present their question to the deity. Then drop
the blocks to the ground. The blocks will land either face up or face down; with
two blocks that makes for three possibilities; double face up, double face down,
one up and one down. The deities answer comes from a series of these drops.
Questions have to be fashioned in a “yes‑no” format and the deities answer will
be either yes, no, or “you got to be kidding/unsure”.
Kennedy & Guo, “Temple Parades”/ 205
the determined auspicious day, packs it with incense taken from the
main temple. After the incense is in place, the piece of wood is no longer
a mere piece of wood—it is Mazu or Guan Gong and has a distinct par‑
entage, a lineage connected to the parent temple. Another trip to the for‑
tune‑teller will reveal the best day to move the now living deity from the
woodcarvers shop to its new home. The leaders of the host temple will
carry him or her with great reverence.
The fact that these deities are living creatures and not just pieces of
wood, paint, and animal hair is evident from a social problem recently
noted in Taiwanese newspapers. 5 Perhaps because of the economic
downturn, people have been abandoning their deities at neighborhood
temples—rather than leaving them in the trash, which one shouldn’t do
with living entities. Those abandoned statues now become foundlings
and must be cared for like abandoned children, which takes time, space,
and money, overburdening the temples. Some simply do not have the
altar space to contain all these figures; others do not wish to be invaded
by newcomers. As a result, temples are putting out pleas to the public to
stop abandoning their deities and instead retrieve those they already left
behind.
5 “Too many unwanted deities discarded in Suao,” May 9, 2008, China Post.
206 / Journal of Daoist Studies 2 (2009)
it and pasted it on a wooden fan. The wooden badge‑boards of the Eight
Generals thus model the real‑world version. They all carry weapons but
one has a carved wooden tiger on his shoulder—who carries the execu‑
tioner’s sword on his back, secured by magic talismans.
The Eight Generals
The most popular story of the Eight Generals says that they serve
the Emperors of the Five Blessings 五福大帝. Originally a gang of eight
malicious mountain sprites 山妖 who lived in a cave on Mount Lu 廬山,
they were so malicious and powerful that regular gods could not control
them. But one of the Emperors of the Five Blessings was an expert in
martial arts and skilled in Daoist demonology. He stepped up to face the
challenge of catching and controlling the eight sprites. Toward that end
he traveled to Mount Lu and promptly subdued the monsters. After de‑
feating them, he held them captive rather than destroying them. To re‑
pay the favor of sparing their lives, they swore eternal allegiance to the
Emperors of the Five Blessings and vowed to help them protect human
beings. Thus the reformed demons became celestial cops called the Eight
Generals.
Kennedy & Guo, “Temple Parades”/ 207
Bao Ma Zai, the herald of parades, with the talismans on his hat and umbrella.
During a parade, the arrival of the Eight Generals is announced by a
somewhat comic but powerful and good‑hearted deity known as Bao Ma
Zai 報馬仔. A Taiwanese god, he acts as a herald bringing news to the
village or district. Always appearing in a standard form, he has one
pants leg rolled up, wears eyeglasses on his face, and carries a small
hand gong as well as a bandoleer of bagels for the children—smaller
sized versions of General Qi Bread. People believe it is good luck for a
parent to ask Bao Ma Zai for one of the bagels and give it to a child
whose good health is thereby ensured.
Taiwan is well known for its pork products and Ba Ma Zai always
carries a pig’s foot and shank with him. In modern hygienic times, he has
208 / Journal of Daoist Studies 2 (2009)
Bao Ma Zai, in his stock appearance
Kennedy & Guo, “Temple Parades”/ 209
The latter protection comes from the Daoist talismans pasted in a cross
pattern on the top of his hat. The talismans indicate that the door to steal
his soul is sealed closed. As a result he cannot be harmed by any ghost or
demon.
* * *
To sum up: Taiwanese temple parades reflect an aspect of lived
Daoism that is still very much alive and well and thriving in Taiwan.
While the reality is that most Taiwanese can only vaguely remember
some parts of the Daode jing or a story or two out of the Zhuangzi, almost
all are familiar with the characters, stories, and escapades that appear in
Daoist temple parades. Most neighborhoods host at least two or three
parades a year and most people will, at least once a year, come to the
curbside for a dose of street Daoism and to explain to one of their chil‑
dren, nieces, or nephews a bit about what is going on. The good news is
that, at least in Taiwan, despite all modernization and secularization,
there is no end in sight for Daoist temple parades.