Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
At Washington Street, turn right
(east) and walk past Walter U. Lum
Place. Look across the street.
4
Buddha's Universal Church, 720
Washington St.
Before you judge this hideous box of a
building, from 1963, you may be
swayed by its origins. A nightclub stood
here before, and, when it went out of
business, a cash-strapped Buddhist
congregation purchased it. Soon, they
learned they'd bought a lemon. It had
to be torn down. So, the congrega-
tion—and this is my favorite part—
spent 11 years literally holding bake
sales to raise enough money for a home
of their own. This ugly building, built
on cookies, now houses the city's largest
Buddhist congregation. The church
also owns what's said to be a shoot from
the bodhi tree under which Buddha
received enlightenment some 2,500
years ago. You can't walk in without an
appointment, so we'll move on.
The grand-looking multitiered
pagoda near you was built in 1909 by
the phone company, which wanted to
construct an exchange for its operators
that would fit into the local culture.
Today, it's a bank.
The little park at the corner of
Grant and Washington, Portsmouth
Square, is pretty much the only green
patch in Chinatown, so it's where locals
gather early each morning to practice
their tai chi together. It was here, on
this plaza, that the American flag was
first raised over this land, in 1846.
Return to Grant Avenue and cross
it. One short block later, at Waverly
Place, turn left. At 125 Waverly, you'll
find the building housing
Tin Hou
Temple.
Founded in 1852, it's the old-
est Chinese temple in America. Visitors
are welcome, although it's polite to
remove your shoes when you go inside
Originally, it was full of exciting stores
and functioned a bit like a multi-floor
bazaar of the sort that's still popular
throughout Asian cities.
Continue up Grant Avenue.
3
Empress of China
You should be between Clay and
Washington streets now.
I can never walk Chinatown with-
out humming the song “Grant Avenue”
from Rodgers and Hammerstein's gen-
erally forgotten musical
Flower Drum
Song
(1958), which was set here and
which tackled the tension between tra-
ditional Chinese immigrants and their
free-spirited American-born kids. That
show reflected the Chinatown of the
1940s, a world of nightclubs and brassy
Asian showgirls. Oscar's lyric makes
Chinatown seem like Vegas on the Bay:
“You can eat if you are in the
mood
Shark fin soup! Bean cake fish!
The girl who serves you all your
food
Is another tasty dish!”
This dinner-show-era of Chinatown
ended even before R&H wrote that
song, but it lingers, or at least echoes, at
Empress of China (833 Grant Ave.), a
classy and eternally popular dining spot
in the roof garden of this building, the
China Trade Center. It's not the sort of
place where I'd suggest you grab a
cheap bite (the Dungeness crab is $41,
lunch mains about $17), but it's where
corporate vice presidents might dine
when they're in town.
As you go, notice the details above
street level, such as the unchanged '50s
and '60s signage and the way laundry
hangs to dry in some upper-floor win-
dows. It's a glimpse into how, because
of low income, this neighborhood is
forced to cling to many of the ways of
the past.
