Wan Liqiong, who runs a trinket stand across from the temple gate, said she would probably have to switch some of her stock to include Shaolin-oriented souvenirs. “We’ve really been struggling here,” she said. Then she offered up an expression that roughly translates to “if you burn incense, they will come.”
After reading about the Shaolin deal in his local newspaper, Ying Daojin, made the eight-hour journey by bus just to catch a glimpse of the monks. A 30-year-old corn farmer from northeast Yunnan, Ying described himself as a non-believer but seemed willing to give religion a try. “I’ve heard Buddhism can open your mind,” he said wide-eyed as a monk glided by. “Kung fu is also good for your health.”
According to his secretary, Yongxin, the head monk based in Henan province, does not give telephone interviews but he encouraged a reporter to seek out Master Yanjiang, the abbot assigned to run the Guandu complex.
Yanjiang, however, proved just as elusive and refused to discuss his plans for the temples. His monks were decidedly unapproachable.
The young men waved away inquiries. When one bespectacled monk found himself the subject of a photographer’s interest, he grabbed the camera and then offered a menacing martial arts pose when his demand to have the picture erased went unmet. Negotiations proved fruitless and the pictures were deleted. The monk bowed, smiled and walked away.
Others were busy helping to renovate the new gift shop while another group of monks was handling the bequest of an adherent who stopped by bearing gifts.
A few days after their arrival, the monks taped a handwritten poster at the temple entrance advertising kung fu lessons. The cost: US$44 for a month of instruction, nearly a full month’s wage for some Chinese workers.
The security guard at the front gate said the classes were selling well, with more than 100 people already signed up. He showed off the student roster, most of them children and teenagers. “Everyone loves the Shaolin monks,” he said with a smile.



