My
first stop, the Tin Hua Temple on Kowloon, a place
that felt more like Sunday at Ikea for luck seekers.
Canisters of fortune sticks rattled here and there
in front of the Buddhist shrine, falling out like
vote-offs in a Survivor episode. You shake and shake
until one stick falls out. If three fall, forget it.
You have to start over. As I shook for my fate, the
lady next to me was throwing two wooden chips that
looked like lips. If they both landed side up, she
would be in luck. Side down? Give it up. Mixed? I
never found out. All I know is a stick dropped out
and it was the number seven. This required a fortune
teller and one who could speak English. Pay dirt on
the lady in the corner with an English Mandarin dictionary
in her hand.
“There was a boy who
wanted
to study but he did not have oil for a light. He was
poor and sad and one day he went away to seek his
fate. When he came back he was a rich man and a merchant
of lamps. He gave lamps to all the boys who wanted
to study.”
“So?”
“Well, you will one day have many lamps.”
I gambled and was out $10. It could have been worse.
She could have told me that one day I would have many
lumps.
Next stop, Shanghai where futuristic skyscraping structures
have giant square holes carved into them so bad luck
will pass through and miss the occupants.
Here a palm reader looked at my left hand – the
hand of your birth destiny, and the right, the hand
of action and told me that in 2004, that great monkey
year, I would have conflicts but all would be solved
if I moved east, maybe the Midwest? Well, how about
Palm Springs? At least it’s east of Los Angeles.
She looked at me, looked at my hand, pointed to my
life line and asked for her $30, still a bargain as
fortune tellers go, I thought. The same parables would
cost $60 in Los Angeles.
So, still ahead of the game, I went to Bangkok where
I heard the Erawan Shrine of the elephant god is famous
for granting the wishes of its patrons. The shrine,
wedged in a patch of green between the Hyatt Hotel
and a new massive designer mall, teemed with devotees
and pubescent Thai dancing girls bearing golden headdresses
and anklets. The only caveat – there is always
a caveat – once you get your wish you must return
year after year to pay homage here.
I decided, rather, to let a Kitchen God and a little
Feng Shui do the trick.
Tsao Wang is a generous god to Chinese families, bringing
back luck to people who do the right thing: mainly
eat eggs to attract cash, mushrooms for opportunities,
chicken, kumquats and oysters for good living, pig's
tongue is profits, melon seeds for silver, and pig's
trotters to kick up the karma in chance.
I was told to keep a three-legged toad with a coin
in its mouth. In fact, one should have nine of them
in each room. Keep those toads below the table, behind
the couch and in other discreet places, but never
in the bedroom. It could turn into a bordello.
I was told to keep a wealth ship in my office and
home to bring prosperity but not to put it too close
to my three-legged frogs.
For added measure I was told to hang, tape, scatter,
hide Chinese coins with square holes in the middle
all over the house, on the bottom of the phone, under
the floor mat, on my dashboard, in my purse, and even
in my pillows. I was to wear them under my best pearls,
along with a small golden dragon, a small golden carp
and a three-legged toad to make sure my luck didn’t
just stay in the house.
Finally, for the perfect dining table decoration,
I learned a double carp turntable should be the centerpiece
and my guests will never be more charmed.
Suddenly, a free dinner at Pizza Hut didn’t look
so bad.
THE WORLD ACCORDING TO LARK
Spring and autumn are the best times to visit China
and the Far East.
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