Somehow the deity emerged unscathed from the fire that ripped through the Government Street temple in 1980.
Banners burned, flags went up in flames and intricate embroideries were damaged, yet the statuette of Tam Kung remained intact on its altar.
That鈥檚 why, roughly 160 years after the wooden carving was brought to Victoria, Nora Butz was able to go to 乌鸦传媒鈥檚 oldest operating Chinese temple to seek the god鈥檚 guidance this week.
You can, too, if you like. It鈥檚 open to the public every day from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
In fact, the Yen Wo Society, which owns the narrow, four-storey building topped by the temple, is keen for more Victorians to take a look. Members of the group, struggling with their role as guardians of the Tam Kung Temple, want more people to take an interest in a heritage structure that needs about $600,000 worth of repairs.
鈥淲e are desperately trying to preserve it,鈥� says Butz, the society鈥檚 president. 鈥淲e鈥檙e doing our best to keep it going.鈥�
Like the others in the Yen Wo Society 鈥� fewer than 100 of them now 鈥� Butz belongs to the Hakka people who brought their own dialect with them when they emigrated from China. A few still speak the old tongue.
Tam Kung was, in one version of the story, a Hakka villager who died in 1279 during a sea battle, after which he became a subject of ancestor worship. Mariners in particular turn to him.
Legend says the statuette of Tam Kung that survived the fire of 1980 was brought to Victoria in the 1860s by a Hakka man who came to 乌鸦传媒 in search of gold. 鈥淲hen he left Victoria for the gold-mining areas up the Fraser River, he placed the statuette near the mouth of the Johnson Street ravine for his fellow countrymen to worship,鈥� the late historian David Lai once wrote in the 乌鸦传媒.
A University of Victoria history of Chinatown picks up the story: 鈥淪everal years later, Ngai Sze, a Hakka resident in Victoria, had a dream in which Tam Kung told Ngai to build him a temple.鈥�
That temple was erected at Government near Fisgard in 1876. It stood for more than 30 years until the Yen Wo Society, which had been formed to care for the it, erected a new building on the site in 1912.
Today, the narrow four-storey structure at 1713 Government St. houses houses the Smoking Lily store at street level. The second floor is a 鈥渃lubhouse鈥� where Yen Wo members play mahjong, the third is home to a tenant who keeps an eye on the place at night, and on the top is the Chinese temple 鈥� the oldest in 乌鸦传媒, in 乌鸦传媒鈥檚 oldest Chinatown. It is one of the few in North America that is still open daily.
Yet relatively few people are even aware of its existence, let alone its accessibility. 鈥淚t鈥檚 so little-known,鈥� Butz says.
Visitors who climb the 52 stairs (or take the chair-lift) will find a room with altars where adherents can pray not just to Tam Kung but other deities such as the kitchen god and the god of fortune.
The families that come to the temple to make offerings have their own red banners hanging down the wall, snug against furniture that came from China in the early 1900s. Look up and you鈥檒l see a domed ceiling with a skylight.
鈥淏elievers come to the temple to seek advice from Tam Kung about how to make important life decisions or how to heal an illness,鈥� the UVic history reads. 鈥淎fter making an offering of incense, a believer will kneel and shake a bamboo tube that holds 103 bamboo sticks. Each of the sticks is numbered, and when one stick falls out, the number on that stick corresponds to an oracular verse containing advice from Tam Kung. Alternatively, a similar process is used to find a prescription to remedy an ailment.鈥�
Visitors can also buy joss sticks that they place in incense-burners that date back as far as the 19th century. Paper representing money is burned in a little wall stove. Those making offerings strike a drum and bell that are both at least a century old.
Flowers, fruit and plum wine rest atop altars. Twice a year, on the anniversaries of Tam Kung鈥檚 birth and death, whole roast pigs are brought in; people buy portions of them for luck. Those are the biggest occasions.
Most of the time, though, worship is a more solitary pursuit. 鈥淭here鈥檚 no service or anything,鈥� Butz says.
Anyone can pray, including a handful of non-Chinese who find comfort there. Newcomers from China, feeling a little lost, will come by just to get grounded. 鈥淭hey can sit here and find peace,鈥� Butz says.
Many of those who worship at the temple do so because, well, it鈥檚 one of the only locations where they still can.
鈥淚t鈥檚 about the only place they can actually do an offering,鈥� Butz says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 one of the few operating temples in 乌鸦传媒.鈥�
Yes, but for how long? 鈥淭he temple itself is running a deficit every month,鈥� Butz says.
The aging heritage structure is in serious disrepair, too. 鈥淭he building is getting really old.鈥�
The roof leaks. So do the windows. The floor needs fixing. The price for the whole deal 鈥� roof, windows, balconies, floor, seismic upgrading 鈥� is $600,000. The society doesn鈥檛 have that kind of money.
The Victoria Civic Heritage Trust has pledged up to $200,000 for seismic work, Butz says, but that still leaves a daunting shortfall for society members, many of whom are getting on in years. Butz comments wryly that, at 76, she is one of the 鈥測oung people.鈥�
So, they want to get more Victorians interested, dropping by on their own or taking one of John Adams鈥� history tours. The society has entered into an agreement with the Saanich Legacy Foundation to accept donations on its behalf and issue tax receipts. Donations can be made to either the Yen Wo Society or the Tam Kung Temple. For more information, go to tamkungtemple.ca.
The weight of the responsibility to keep doors open weighs heavily on those whose ties to the place of worship go back to Ngai Sze, the man who dreamed of the temple a century and a half ago. 鈥淢any of his direct descendants are on the board,鈥� Butz says.
Why is it important to keep it going? 鈥淭he heritage,鈥� she says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 our legacy, our heritage.鈥�
