Twenty minutes before 12noon.
Bikers in their long whites pedaled their way to the temple. There was a long line of worshippers sitting by the entrance, with their bare feet on the floor, and hands clasped into a prayer. They were quiet, as if they were anticipating for something. There were a handful of teens; a lot of old men resembled Confucius. An old man differently dressed in yellow, glared into an abyss outside.
Women in whites with yellow BTT-labeled armbands ushered us in. Most of them cannot speak in English, but they signaled us to go further inside their temple.
A peek into their temple doesn't give away their religion too easily. The tiles are vibrant and confusing, just as its altar venerate an assortment of entities-- a happy Buddha, a long haired Jesus Christ, a long bearded Confucius, a serious Laozi, and three Chinese looking unknowns. There are clouds on their ceiling, dragons curled on pillars, divine eyes on windows, swans and fruits on their altar, a big sphere with stars. The colors are just too vibrant. At first glance, one can conclude that it's not an easy religion to unravel.
I stood in awe with my bare feet, like a stranger inside a foreign temple would feel after 20 minutes of wanting to understand a religion called "Great Religion of the Third Period of Revelation and Salvation." The worshippers bowed their heads countless number of times. I wondered how many prayers they repetitively chanted, even before their 12noon daily congregation.
The visitors were then all asked to go upstairs, in full view of the whole temple. The empty ground floor gradually became full as the strings were struck into an eccentric music. The worshippers slowly walked into their areas in order. The hierarchy's too evident. Whites stayed on the sides; the old men in vibrant yellows, reds and blues stayed at the center. The music was stopped and the whole temple was now chanting a medley of prayers.
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