At a huge ceramic pot in front of the shrine I held three smoking sticks of incense forehead high and bowed, asking that all sentient beings be relieved from suffering, then pierced the curtain of wafting smoke and mounted the steps to the ordered pandemonium of the interior. On the right, wizened bald-headed Buddhist nuns in white robes sat cross-legged on the floor collecting donations for the repair and maintenance of the temple. To my left, saffron-robed monks patiently flicked holy water from a wicker brush onto visitors who knelt and prostrated, touching their foreheads to the marble floor.