Paying Homage to the In-Laws

This morning we were up at the crack of dawn…well, 9.00am actually, we are on holiday. The reason for the moderately early start was to travel to a cemetery in Sha Tin, a town in the mainland New Territories of Hong Kong , to pay homage to my late parents-in-law, whose ashes reside there. (It's Ching Ming festival time, the period each year when we visit the cemetery and sweep our ancestors' graves). 

The cemetery is on the outskirts of Sha Tin, built on the side of a wooded hill overlooking the town. It’s vast, covering several acres and contains about 100,000 memorial urns in a series of memorial halls stretching up the hill.

Because building land is very scarce in Hong Kong and there are now over seven million inhabitants, it’s very much a case of excess demand and limited supply. As a result, government cemeteries have long waiting lists and many commercial cemeteries have sprung up, like the one we were visiting.

(The price of a single urn box in one of the few remaining empty slots – in a memorial hall in a less favoured position in the cemetery – varies from HK$113,000 or about nine thousand pounds to HK$ 480,000 or thirty-seven thousand pounds. The price depends upon location within the hall, the most favoured position being mid-way up the rear wall, facing the entrance. That will guarantee that the remains will remain undisturbed until at least the year 2047. And, of course, the ambiance is excellent with good fung shui and the proximity of many images of Buddhist deities.)

At the entrance were two small shrines that all visitors pay their respects at. Paying respects means lighting three incense or joss sticks, bowing three times in succession to the shrine and placing the sticks in a burner. The first shrine is to – I’m not sure what his official title is – the ‘landlord’ deity of the hillside.

The second shrine is to all the deceased who have no relations or friends to visit and pay their respects…nice thought.

Then it’s a climb up the hill, assisted much of the way by a kind of funicular lift. 

Half way up there is a temple and a few shops where the necessary supplies can be bought. As we passed the temple there was a Taoist ceremony taking place, the sound of chanting and the striking of bells and clappers echoed through the complex, a few worshippers visible amid the clouds of incense.

Outside the temple were a variety of paper goods waiting to be burned. We Chinese believe that this act, accompanied by prayers, will fulfil our intention that the deceased receive the material equivalent of what was burned. So, if the deceased liked to travel, what better than his own plane?

Similarly, if he was well-off he will not want to queue for the tram or the bus. That means a car is in order, and, being Hong Kong, it should be at least a Mercedes – with chauffeur naturally.

Then there’s the house, a nice villa please.

Oh, and a servant or two as well. After all, there’s bound to be a lot of housework necessary to keep the villa in order, and cooking too.

Behind the temple was a sitting area with a golden Buddha in a large glass case and an ornamental pond where brightly coloured fish swam.

Then it was climbing again, up more stairs to our final destination, the memorial hall where the remains of my parents-in-law were deposited. 

This was a prime location with a giant statue of Buddha in a heptagonal piazza with seven memorial halls facing off from the seven sides. Each memorial hall contained several hundred urns, each with a photograph of the deceased and the basic details of the person’s life in gilt script.

We had prepared a variety of vegetarian food and fruit for the deceased together with small cups of tea (Pu Ergh, my father-in-law’s favourite). These would be ritually offered, and delivered to the deceased in the same way as the paper offerings. 

(Actually, much of the food would be taken home and eaten after the ceremony ended). There were warning notices asking visitors not to feed the wild monkeys, of which there were a large number in the area.

So, again, the ritual of bowing three times and offering joss took place, first to the Buddha, then to the in-laws, and finally there was a communal series of bows from the eight of us in unison to the in-laws.

Slightly higher than our memorial hall, on yet another level, was another plaza with three impressive gilt figures of Buddha and a view over the high-rise town of Sha Tin, far below. I stayed for a few minutes, enjoying the view and the silence, the faint sound of chanting wafting up from the temple below.