The Weaverville Joss House is one of three old Chinese temples that still survive in Northern California, USA. Located in the town of Weaverville in Trinity County some 300 kilometers north of San Francisco, the temple stands on Weaverville's main thoroughfare, Oregon Street.

The term "joss" is based on a corruption of the Portuguese word Deos, meaning God. But unlike a Western church, a joss house was not solely a religious edifice. It was also a combined social hall, fraternity house and travelers hostel.

Externally the roof of the Weaverville Joss House presents an unusual appearance of stepped vertical gables, in contrast to the graceful upswept eaves of most Chinese temples. However the wooden structures of the facade, beams and walls still bear all the hallmarks of traditional Chinese architecture.

The red main doors are particularly striking with the temple's name, Yun Lin Miao, prominently inscribed above. This name may be translated literally as "The Temple Amongst the Forest Beneath the Clouds."

Stepping across the threshold is like walking into the life of Chinese immigrants to America over 100 years ago. An entire history is telescoped into this one building.

Chinese emigration to America goes back more than two centuries, and no one knows when Weaverville was founded. But when news broke that gold had been discovered in Northern California in 1848 the area was flooded by eager prospectors, including many Chinese.

Migrant communities tend to take their own religion along with them. Having perhaps endured untold hardships, Chinese immigrant communities would generally establish a temple to ensure they would continue to enjoy the protection of their own local gods.

The Weaverville Joss House was no exception. In 1855 the Trinity Democrat reported that local Chinese were "celebrating their New Year at the new Joss House, built several years ago." So it may well date back to around 1850.

Most Chinese temples in America were built of wood, and were often burned down in accidental fires. In 1873 the Weaverville Joss House was engulfed in a fire that started at the adjoining home of a certain Dr. Croucher, although luckily some banners and temple fittings were saved from the flames.

The local Chinese community immediately launched a drive to finance its rebuilding, and a new temple was dedicated the very next April.

Dwindling prospects of finding gold, amid other factors, caused the Chinese population of Weaverville to shrink from 2,500 in its heyday to a mere 16 persons by 1931. The original temple management committee dwindled to just a single caretaker.

This caretaker, Mock Fawn, passed away in September 1933. One night in January 1934 the unattended temple was burgled. Fortunately the burglars were arrested within a week and all the stolen goods recovered.

This incident brought a realization that the temple must be preserved. For the joss house was a link with the history of all the area's pioneers, regardless of their origin. It was more than simply a domestic matter for the Chinese community.

In September 1934 the Weaverville Chamber of Commerce proposed that the temple be incorporated into the California State Park system. This did not happen immediately, however, and mean while Moon Lee, a descendant of a Chinese pioneer settler, was appointed trustee of the joss house by the Superior Court in 1938. Lee's grandfather was a goldpanner, his father a farmer, and he himself ran a supermarket.

Moon Lee served as trustee until 1957, when his work culminated in the joss house being opened to the public as part of the California state park system.

The joss house is now preserved in two parts, the temple itself and a visitor center with exhibits and slides depicting the Chinese gold-diggers' dreams of instant wealth.

A glance through the visitors' book turns up just a handful of Chinese names, only about 1% of the total number of visitors. Sadly ignored by the Chinese community, the joss house is now regarded as a cultural relic by Westerners.

In the front porch a "spirit screen" serves to prevent evil spirits from entering. According to Chinese belief evil spirits can only proceed in a straight line. The spirit screen foils any attempt to enter and so keeps the temple safe from harm.

To the right of the door is the smiling, bearded, red-faced figure of Dai Tze, the temple's doorkeeper, sadly minus its nose.

Beside Dai Tze are neatly ranged the stove for burning paper money, and the King's Umbrella. This gilt-stitched drumshaped umbrella incorporates tiny mirrors to keep evil spirits at bay.

Along the wall are ranged four colorful processional banners.

The temple's central altar, the Altar of Wealth, is dedicated to the gods Kuan Ti and Bok Ai. The left-hand altar is dedicated to Cling Loy Goon, Toy Sing Goon and Uah Poe, all gods of good health, and the right-hand altar to Kuan Yin and Leong Mar, goddesses who protect women and children.

A small door on the left leads through to a reception room, still furnished just as it always used to be.

The walls are plastered with notices recording the names of temple benefactors, the latest one being dated 1920.

Annual celebrations called "Bomb Days" used to be held on the birthdays of the temple's two main gods. After a procession firecrackers were lit which shot numbered papers up into the air. Prizes were given for catching these papers, the top prize being a miniature altar which could be kept at the winner's home all year. This custom has long since fallen into desuetude.

Walking out of the joss house and back into the everyday world, one senses how closely the temple was bound up with the local Chinese community. When the Chinese lived there it flourished, and its decay is another sign that the community has gone. Countless temples belonging to early communities of laborers in America have now vanished, and the Weaverville Joss House has been lucky to avoid meeting that same fate.

[Picture Caption]

Weaverville Joss House's stepped gables provide an unusual architectural feature.

Chinese characters for "cycle track" set in the road symbolize the footprints of early Chinese immigrants.

The gold rush was the stuff of early Chinese immigrants' dreams; some went home rich, others were dogged by hardships.

Amusing stories are told about the door guardian Dai Tze and his missing nose.

Carved altar dating from the T'ung-chih period (1862-1874).

Lists of donors' names plastering the walls testify to the temple's history.

Old beds, tables, chairs and other furnishings remain in place--but the Chinese themselves have departed.

Chinese characters for "cycle track" set in the road symbolize the footprints of early Chinese immigrants.

The gold rush was the stuff of early Chinese immigrants' dreams; some went home rich, others were dogged by hardships.

Amusing stories are told about the door guardian Dai Tze and his missing nose.

Carved altar dating from the T'ung-chih period （1862-1874）.

Lists of donors' names plastering the walls testify to the temple's history.

Old beds, tables, chairs and other furnishings remain in place--but the Chinese themselves have departed.