I think I'm a Buddhist; don't tell my mother - she'd plotz

"Put down your tchotchkes, wipe the shmutz off your face, and head back to shul like the mensch that you are," is what she would say, had I told her this story.

The Refuge Card (皈依证, guiyizheng) I received that day about a week and a half ago proves that I am an official convert to Buddhism recognized by the Chinese government. The application to convert cost about 40RMB (~6USD) and before getting the card, one must perform the sacred Buddhist conversion ritual that I have described below.

The Beijing Guanghua Temple (北京广化寺) is located in a hutong off of Houhai. If you go right, you are thrust into a commercial paradise of Mao t-shirts, cigarette lighters, fans, and stinky tofu. But were you to choose the left path (not to be confused with the eightfold path), you would be forced to navigate a labyrinthine mess of concrete, beggars, incense, and fragrant wooden bracelets before arriving at the temple.

Nodding my head at a few of the temple's monks, I said "Namo Amitofo" and shoved my way into the temple courtyard which was packed with 800+ Chinese people, all pumped up and ready to convert.

Were all of these people really ready to shun all worldly possessions for the chance of rebirth in the pure land? I highly doubt it, but they are ready to get a free ticket to all Buddhist temples. Mount Wutai, a UNESCO Heritage site in Shanxi province, costs a compulsory 168RMB plus an additional 70RMB for the bus service to each temple you visit, with a total of 5 temples, totalling about 520RMB or $76USD - that's a lot to spend on a meshugga temple, but completely free of cost if you're a "Buddhist."

The ceremony began with a long wait on line to receive our Buddhist meal, meant to cleanse us of something-or-other, I'm not sure. What we got was a bowl of rice with odd vegetables on top. An old lady came around with a bowl of some cabbage-looking stuff, and smiled gleefully as she slapped a ladleful onto my already full bowl. To my surprise it tasted like cole-slaw, and I began to think of Ben's kosher deli, and I fantasised about that as I finished my cleansing bowl.

I was the 226th member of the congregation to be called up to receive my Buddha-pass. Inside the card was my picture with my new "Buddhist name" (法名), Guang An - Vast Peace (广安). I sat on a cushioned bench for kneeling (kneeler), waiting for the last person to be called. After an hour or so, we all turned around on our kneelers to face the head-monk of the temple, and the leader of this afternoon's sermon.

The sermon began simply, with some chanting of Buddhist mantras in Chinese and the soft banging of drums, cymbals, and triangles. Then he told us to kneel by yelling out the Chinese word for "pray", bai (pronounced: buy, 拜), then moments afterwards commanding us to rise, qi (chee, 起).

I stood there bai-ing and qi-ing for about twenty minutes straight. When it was all over, he told us to bai. We bai-ed as the monk instructed us in the tenants of Buddhism. At the end of his speech he asked if everyone understood. The tired-of-kneeling Chinese converts all proclaimed in unanimous chorus "We understand." To which the monk replied "Good, now repeat it to me." The ones who were paying attention tried to repeat it best they could, from the rest you could hear a collective muted grumble.

While we were still kneeling, it began to rain. There were those who were seeking refuge that sought refuge under nearby umbrellas and cloisters. The unhalting rain prevented the ceremony from going on any further, and Matt and I left with our Buddhist Convert Confirmation Certificate.

So I converted to Buddhism to save a little money - think of all the Hanukkah gelt I'd save if all I ate was Chinese cole-slaw.