Dujiangyan irrigation not damaged by earthquake

Dujiangyan - High above the world's oldest operating irrigation system, Zhang Shuanggun, a local villager, stands on an observation platform cracked by China's massive earthquake last week.

She has a simple answer for why the ancient, bamboo-based Dujiangyan irrigation system sustained only minor damage, while nearby modern dams and their vast amounts of concrete are now under 24-hour watch for signs of collapse.

"This ancient project is perfection," Zhang said.

From the hillside platform, the workings of the ingenious irrigation project that is now a UNESCO World Heritage-listed site are clearly visible.

Built from 256 BC, the system involved diverting the Minjiang River's flow using man-made islands built on bamboo frames that allowed water and fish to flow freely underneath.

UNESCO, the United Nations cultural organisation, says the system "controls the waters of the Minjiang River and distributes it to the fertile farmland" of the plains.

It is "a major landmark in the development of water management and technology and is still discharging its functions perfectly."

The irrigation system is at the foot of mountains on the edge of Dujiangyan, about 50 kilometres (32 miles) from the epicentre of the May 12 quake which measured 8.0 on the Richter scale and killed more than 40,000 people.

Yet despite its close proximity to the quake, the system suffered only minor damage and was not compromised, according to the government.

At the same time, several dams were damaged by the earthquake and are now under constant watch for signs of collapse amid concerns they may not be able to withstand strong aftershocks or flooding.

"The earthquake this time has caused damage at various levels to reservoirs and dams," Gu Junyaun, the chief engineer at the State Electricity Regulatory Commission said this week.

"Dam safety experts have been put in place to monitor the operation of the dams 24 hours a day."

Thousands of people have been evacuated in various areas of quake-hit Sichuan province due to fears of bursting dams.

Qushan, a major town that suffered major damage in the quake, is being relocated altogether partly because of the threat that a dam above it will collapse and send torrents of water through the area.

The contrasting fates of the ancient irrigation system and the modern dams offer a cautionary tale for China as it continues its love affair with trying to tame its vast rivers.

Hundreds of dams have been built, or are being constructed, across the country, and environmentalists have repeatedly warned of the folly of doing so in quake-prone areas such as Sichuan.

But no one has such fears about the Dujiangyan irrigation project.

"The irrigation system is reliable and solid," said He Quyun, 66, a woman who lives above the project in hills which are prone to rock falls since the quake.

"The skills of the ancient people, the architect, were so high," said another area resident, a former village Communist Party secretary who declined to give his name.

He was resting outside the now-closed ornamental gate through which tourists would normally visit the irrigation project.

From above, the project looks deceptively simple.

The river splits around a heavily forested and slightly curved island about one kilometre (0.62 miles) long.

At the top of the island, a protrusion which residents call the "fish mouth" pokes into the river and helps it divide. On one side is a modern dam with flood gates through which the river passes.

On the other is a narrower channel which flows towards the plain where it waters the fields of Xu Shifu and other farmers.

"Yes, it comes from there," Xu, 52, said, leaning on a hoe beside his brown fields of wheat almost ready for harvest. "It's a small tributary... it's originally from the fish mouth."

While his wife planted corn seedlings along the edge of the wheat field, Xu explained that if his paddy needs extra water, it could be directed into his fields through a system linked to the ancient water works.

Source:chinadaily.com.cn

Two Kings Temple is damaged by Quake 都江堰二王庙

The Two Kings Temple, a 1,500-year-old Taoist sanctuary perched above Dujiangyan, was devastated by the recent earthquake in Sichuan. A monument to the temple's patron deity was split at the waist.

By ANDREW JACOBS Published: May 23, 2008
Source:nytimes.com

DUJIANGYAN, China � The whoosh of the Min River, roiling through the valley below, drifted up the mountain. A breeze jostled the leaves of ancient ginkgoes. Here and there, the whine of a distant siren pierced the tranquillity.

The only other sound was the clatter of broken roof tiles underfoot as Wang Zhongcheng picked through the remnants of Two Kings Temple, a 1,500-year-old Taoist sanctuary perched above this city. All around him was an astounding scene of destruction: giant bronze incense burners shattered by falling masonry; an ancient pagoda obliterated; a monument to the temple's patron deity � said to be one of China's oldest stone statues � fractured at the waist.

"I think the heavens were teaching us a lesson," said Mr. Wang, 36, one of the monastery's resident monks. "This is what happens when the world is out of balance."

The earthquake that struck Sichuan Province on May 12 killed at least 55,000 people and injured 247,000. More than five million are homeless.

But the catastrophe that destroyed so many lives has also taken a toll on a region rich in antiquities. Here along the quilt of jagged peaks that stretch north toward the Tibetan plateau, 184 historic sites were damaged or destroyed in the span of five minutes, according to a preliminary government tally. The home of Li Bai, one of China's most revered poets, was shaken apart. An 800-year-old wooden pagoda in Jiangyou was badly damaged. In a far corner of the province, a centuries-old Tibetan Buddhist shrine in Nyitso was jolted off its foundation.

At the sprawling Two Kings monastery, built to honor an engineer who created a vast flood-control system in 256 B.C. and now a Unesco World Heritage site, the annihilation was nearly complete. The steep stone footpaths have been heaved apart and all that remains of the gift shop is a tangle of ancient timber, dented Coke cans and dust-covered postcards.

Despite the enormous human needs facing millions of survivors, Wang Qiong, an official from the Sichuan Cultural Relics Administration, said he was optimistic the complex would be restored within three years. "I think the state government as well as society will give financial support," he said in an interview.

Mr. Wang, the monk, was not nearly so optimistic. "It will take a lifetime," he said.

Although the Two Kings Temple has been modified and rebuilt many times, historians believe it was begun about A.D. 500, a few hundred years after Li Bing finished the ambitious weir that tamed the Min River, a tributary of the Yangtze that in the spring would regularly drown thousands in the Chengdu basin. The system of dikes and canals, lionized by China as the world's oldest functioning flood-control system, remains a marvel of ancient engineering.

With the Min's destructive flow tamed, thousands of acres of marshland were transformed into the nation's granary, all of it nourished by a plentiful supply of diverted river water. "His accomplishment will be remembered for 10,000 generations," reads the tribute carved into a temple gate that poked above the rubble.

For generations, the temple has been maintained by the monks, many of whom come from nearby Mount Qingcheng, the birthplace of Taoism. Theirs is a life of prayer, quiet contemplation and the slow-motion exercise known as Tai Chi Chuan. As vegetarians who lead ascetic lives, many of the monks and nuns say they have a conflicted relationship with the outside world, even if they must rely on busloads of tourists for their income.

In recent years, Taoists have waged a legal battle against provincial officials who have sought greater control over the site. Mr. Wang said the state now takes most of the profit, forcing the monks to largely rely on the sale of home-cooked vegetarian meals for their livelihood. "They know there is profit to be made here," he said of the government.

As they sat around the ruins drinking tea and reading religious texts, members of the order talked about the earthquake as retribution for humanity's misplaced priorities. Zhong Zongji, 38, a nun in a navy blue robe, said the symptoms were plainly visible in Dujiangyan, a city of 600,000 whose residents, she said, were too obsessed with chasing money to notice the beauty and sanctity of the natural world. "They have good material lives but they are empty inside," she said, sitting near the row of tents that is now home to the temple's 20 resident Taoists.

As she spoke, a low-pitched rumble could be heard in the distance. It was a backhoe, futilely picking through the shell of a factory dormitory that had crumbled, trapping dozens of people. Farther down the hill, hundreds more remained buried in debris. All over the city, families were mourning their dead.

A tourist was killed by a falling wall here, but everyone else survived with minor scrapes. Two days before the ground shook, Ai Zongling said, she had a premonition that something terrible was going to happen. She woke up dizzy on the day of the quake and felt inexplicably drawn to the monastery's biggest structure, one of the few religious buildings to escape complete destruction. "I felt in my heart I would be safe there," she said.

Many of the men and women who live at Two Kings view the earthquake as a comeuppance for man's endless wars, the neglect of the elderly, the abuse of the environment. "You can't keep cutting down the trees and destroying the land without a response from the heavens," said Ms. Ai, as the daylight faded and the monks and nuns retreated to their tents.

Still, she said she thought some good might come from the calamity. Down in the city, she had been moved by the sight of strangers helping one another. Perhaps people will learn what she and the other Taoist devotees view as the elements of a harmonious life: self-discipline, kindness and the pursuit of simplicity. "Maybe people will learn that you cannot keep living a corrupted life without consequences," she said. "Maybe this earthquake can redeem us."

Huang Yuanxi contributed research.

Front view of Two Kings Temple before the quake