It’s not so much the building itself, but the extraordinary story that lies behind it, that makes Liao Tien-ting Temple (廖添丁廟) in New Taipei City’s Bali District (八里) so well worth visiting. Beside a busy road on the edge of Bali, across the estuary from Tamsui, this rather grand looking temple is larger and taller than most of the surrounding structures with a shiny new roof of orange tiles, but in appearance it’s no different from many other prosperous Taoist temples around the country.
A clue to its local importance, however, can be found in the row of vendors that set up their stalls daily in a row on either side of the main entrance to the temple, selling snacks, incense, ghost money and whatnot.
To get a better idea of what makes this temple so significant, walk through the entrance gate and take a quick look around the immaculately-kept adjoining grounds.
Photo: Richard Saunders
After a few steps, you’ll come across a huge stone statue of a rather defiant-looking man with long, plaited hair, emerging, snake-like, from under his hat and curling down his front almost to the waist. Arms akimbo, hands planted firmly on hips.
This impressively masculine figure is the dedicatee of the temple, Liao Tien-ting (廖添丁), who became one of Taiwan’s major folk heroes following his exploits (and death) over a century ago during the early Japanese colonial era.
Liao, born near what is today Taichung city in 1883, was only 12 when the Japanese took control of Taiwan. A few years later, he fled his home when, according to one story, he was framed by a local bully working for the enemy and orders for his arrest were issued. While Liao fled to the hills, his mother, refusing to disclose his whereabouts, was tortured to death.
Photo: Richard Saunders
Thereafter, it’s said, he dedicated his life to resisting the Japanese and protecting the local citizens from the soldiers’ crueler excesses. Escaping to the north of Taiwan, he launched attacks on the Japanese from a cave on the northern face of Guanyin Mountain (觀音山), which rises steeply above Bali, sleeping (legend says) with one eye open in case of surprise ambush.
On Nov. 18, 1909 Liao was killed, aged just 26, after being betrayed by a friend. The body was dragged down to the village below and promptly buried in an unmarked grave.
RESTLESS SPIRIT
Photo: Richard Saunders
Following Liao’s death, however, strange and inexplicable things began happening: on cloudy nights, traces of the blood that had dripped from his body as he was brought down the mountainside for burial began to glow with an eerie light.
During a period of very dry weather, a ball of green light was seen to shoot out of the mountainside close to Liao’s former hideout, and fly towards the residence of a local Japanese officer. Soon after, the officer’s wife and daughter were struck by an unknown disease. The local villagers, suspecting that Liao’s ghost had a hand in the illness, advised the officer to seek repentance at the unmarked tomb, which he finally did.
Miraculously, in a week the ladies were cured. The soldier had a small headstone carved and placed at the head of the tomb of his late enemy, and Liao’s fame began to spread far and wide. A small shrine was built in front of the tomb, and over that a larger temple was later built, and has continued to expand, as money and new worshipers come pouring in, especially for the celebration which accompanies his annual birthday celebration on the 26th day of the 10th lunar month (which falls on Dec. 13 this year).
Photo: Richard Saunders
The grand new temple itself is of limited interest, but walk inside, and at its heart stands the original: a small shrine, built in the 1950s, and now lined with glittering golden tiles. A couple of black-and-white likenesses of the great man (an actor playing Liao in a movie version of his life) hang on the left wall of the shrine.
Walk out the back door of the temple, and Liao’s tomb itself is a grassy mound immediately behind the shrine, surrounded by a metal barrier. The protection is partly to keep locals, who believe it to have curative powers, from plucking the earth from the mound, or the grass that grows on it.
If you have your own transport and an extra hour to spare, pay a visit to Liao’s erstwhile hideout, Liao Tien-ting Cave (廖添丁洞). The climb to the cave looks deceptively easy at first, with wide stone steps. The surfaced trail soon peters out, however, and there’s a fun scramble up through a small rocky gorge on the way, with ropes to help. The stone steps begin again just before the tiny cave, which looks barely large enough to shelter a large dog, let alone a fierce and determined warrior.
Beyond the cave, the steps climb a little further up the steep, wooded slopes of Guanyin Mountain, before doubling back downhill to rejoin the outward route near the beginning. The round trip is a pretty walk of 20 minutes or so, but wear good shoes.
Richard Saunders is a classical pianist and writer who has lived in Taiwan since 1993. He’s the founder of a local hiking group, Taipei Hikers, and is the author of six books about Taiwan, including Taiwan 101 and Taipei Escapes. Visit his Web site at www.taiwanoffthebeatentrack.com.
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