大村福天宮

Dacun Futian Temple

December 15th, 2014

A half-abandoned temple in rural Changhua County — A strange temple on top of a mountain on the border of Changhua and Nantou counties.

High on the upper slopes of the modest Baguashan Range (八卦山脈) overlooking Dayeh University (大葉大學), on the border between Changhua and Nantou in Taiwan, stands a strange half-abandoned temple. It is peculiar in that temples are almost never left to the elements the way this one has been. Abandoned buildings are not uncommon in this land—but even the most obscure temples receive regular maintenance in the form of incense and offerings, among other things. To neglect the gods and spirits is to curse a place with tremendously bad luck and misfortune. Temples may be formally decommissioned, dismantled, and destroyed—but they are almost never simply abandoned or left to decay like this. What’s going on here?

The stark red sign out front reveals several some information and several tantalizing clues. The name of the temple appears to be Fútiān Temple (福天宮), a common name for temples in Taiwan. The spiritual artifacts in residence are listed along the bottom of the sign. From left to right: the Taoist God of Land (福德正神), the Three Treasured Buddhas (三寶佛祖), and several Taishan stone tablets (泰山感應石敢當). The couplets on either side of the sign, 風調雨順 and 國泰民安, offer a blessing for good weather, peace, and prosperity. I suppose this blessing cascades down the mountainside to the university campus below?

The view from above Dayeh University — The view from the mountaintop temple. Down below you can see the Dayeh University campus.

Remains of a mountaintop temple in Changhua — The empty shell of the temple.

The temple itself—what’s left of it, anyway—looks completely unremarkable. Ramshackle temples like this are common all over rural Changhua. It once housed three gods but only one chamber remains occupied; the other two alcoves are empty sheet metal shells. Much of the temple has been damaged by fire: scorch marks are evident all over the interior and melted plastic awnings dangle from the rooftop. Only the part of the temple to the right remains intact and in use.

A few things scattered around the old half-abandoned temple — Various goods scattered around a small enclosure on the far side of the temple.

In the cracks between worlds — Behind the empty shell of the temple.

A door to another plane — A door between worlds.

A locked shrine at a spooky temple in Changhua — The only shrine that remains at the temple is behind locked doors.

The god abides — A peek inside the locked shrine. Someone comes here to place new offerings now and then.

It would appear as if the artifacts from the fire-damaged parts of the temple have been relocated to the only shrine still in use. The God of Land is displayed prominently, and you’ll also notice Jìgōng (濟公), the Drunken Monk, on the left. What about those stone tablets? I don’t see them in any of my photos—but I also wasn’t looking for them while I was there.

Evidence of a presence — The calendar is turned to today’s date and there are stacks of ghost money and other temple essentials laying around. Evidently this place is not quite abandoned yet.

Stacks of ghost money at the half-abandoned temple — Ghost money.

Where there was once a shrine — This would have once been the main shrine at the temple.

The stone tablets seem to be the key to this mystery. Consider what is said in this book. Shígǎndāng (石敢當), as they are known, are geomantic tools inscribed with an injunction against evil. Tàishān (泰山) refers to Mount Tai, one of the five most holy mountains of ancient China. Stones from this mountain are thought to have special protective powers. Whether the stones at this temple actually originate from Mount Tai is anyone’s guess—apparently imitations are common—but some additional protection may be afforded simply by invoking the name. As for gǎnyìng (感應), which translates to “induction”, I have no idea.

The side of the half-abandoned temple at Dayeh University — A side view of the half-abandoned temple. There is a communications tower looming overhead.

Melted plastic roofing at a half-abandoned temple at Dayeh University — Melted plastic roofing is the most obvious evidence of fire damage.

Three flags — A small shrine with three flags inside near the entrance to the temple.

Smoldering remnants — The smouldering remains.

More than 10,000 students are enrolled in the university below. As you might imagine there are plenty of rumours that circulate among the student body about this somewhat creepy temple on top of the hill. No doubt the winding road below the temple is the location of many late-night dares and romantic dalliances. There is a general sense that the temple is haunted in some way. In fact, it would appear that the mountain itself is home to some bad mojo—and this temple exists to neutralize whatever malevolent spirits lurk on its flanks. You can just imagine what local people must have thought when the fire broke out.

A half-abandoned temple overlooking Dayeh University — One last look at the half-abandoned temple overlooking Dayeh University.

What, then, explains the lack of maintenance and care? I’d hazard a guess here: nobody feels any particular affiliation to this temple of necessity. Perhaps it is seen as a duty and a chore to maintain—and presumably it’s good enough as long as those magic stone tablets are kept dry.