VIETNAM’S ANCIENT SON
May 12th 2007 06:43
In a lush green valley in central Vietnam under the imposing glare of Cat’s Tooth Mountain rests one of the most important archaeological sites of the ancient kingdom of Champa.
Unassuming, resilient and rich in history and beauty. One could well be describing Vietnam itself. In truth, the crumbling temples of My Son are just a speck on Vietnam’s kaleidoscope of indulgent cultural experiences.
But to walk through the secluded sanctuary of My Son, where the ancient monuments still stand proudly amongst the suffocating tropical growth, clear running streams and thick scent of surrounding coffee plantations, is a true test of the sensory overload that must be endured by all visitors to Vietnam.
My Son may not be one of the country’s most well known attractions but it can be one of its most rewarding. It is highly atmospheric, dramatic and dripping not only in tropical humidity but also the ancient spirit and architecture of Indian Hinduism, blended into a typical South-East Asian terrain.
My Son is one of the smallest members of South-East Asia’s extended family of ancient grand cities of former Indian-influenced civilizations, headed by the sprawling Angkor Wat in neighbouring Cambodia.
It does not attract the tourist hordes, headlines or movie sets of Angkor Wat but it still pays to get there early to enjoy some solitude. We arranged for a driver to pick us up pre-dawn at our Hoi An hotel and we were at My Son with just a handful of others as the first rays of sun soak into the valley.
Being a UNESCO World Heritage site there are rules to be followed and mini-bus transfers are required to access marshalling points from which you approach the temples on foot. Guided tours are available although it is easy enough to self navigate given that archaeologists have divided the temples into 10 main clusters in alphabetical order.
The temple-towers of My Son are thought to date back to the late 4th century and together formed the most significant intellectual, religious and political centre of the Champa kingdom, which controlled what is now contemporary Vietnam until the 13th century.
The Champa people were raised to be masters at the art of building rock and My Son is the greatest surviving example of that talent. Their advanced building technique was based on tightly packed smooth bricks, without any form of securing mortar, and it proved to last many centuries.
The remaining temples are a showcase of a unique cultural exchange of the architecture and art of Hinduism into South-East Asia, with the red brick structures still bravely fighting off the all-consuming growth of the dense tropical climate. Many bricks also boast fine carvings, depicting a range of images from deities and priests to dances, plants, animals and sacrifices.
Although much of what was once a city is now in ruins, My Son still paints the picture of a civilization now extinct but to which you can transport yourself by entering those temples where candles light up the darkness and history within. Steeping inside is to open your senses to another time when the temples were used for ceremonial, worship and even burial purposes.
My Son provides a fascinating insight not only into an ancient culture but also the powerful effects of time and vegetation that stops for no man-made object, even ones obviously constructed with such expertise and care as these all those centuries ago.
The damage to My Son has not all been natural though, as the site was subjected to heavy bombing from Americans during the Vietnam War. Fortunately, archaeologists alerted President Nixon to the damage being done to the ancient temples and he duly ordered bombers to avoid the temples where possible while continuing to attack the surrounding VC strongholds.
Strolling the ancient valley of the My Son sanctuary, steeping over ruins, plants and roots as you go, it is hard to picture any such destruction being wrought on what is a perfect blend of man and nature’s beauty in the most peaceful of settings.
Unassuming, resilient and rich in history and beauty. One could well be describing Vietnam itself. In truth, the crumbling temples of My Son are just a speck on Vietnam’s kaleidoscope of indulgent cultural experiences.
But to walk through the secluded sanctuary of My Son, where the ancient monuments still stand proudly amongst the suffocating tropical growth, clear running streams and thick scent of surrounding coffee plantations, is a true test of the sensory overload that must be endured by all visitors to Vietnam.
My Son may not be one of the country’s most well known attractions but it can be one of its most rewarding. It is highly atmospheric, dramatic and dripping not only in tropical humidity but also the ancient spirit and architecture of Indian Hinduism, blended into a typical South-East Asian terrain.
My Son is one of the smallest members of South-East Asia’s extended family of ancient grand cities of former Indian-influenced civilizations, headed by the sprawling Angkor Wat in neighbouring Cambodia.
It does not attract the tourist hordes, headlines or movie sets of Angkor Wat but it still pays to get there early to enjoy some solitude. We arranged for a driver to pick us up pre-dawn at our Hoi An hotel and we were at My Son with just a handful of others as the first rays of sun soak into the valley.
Being a UNESCO World Heritage site there are rules to be followed and mini-bus transfers are required to access marshalling points from which you approach the temples on foot. Guided tours are available although it is easy enough to self navigate given that archaeologists have divided the temples into 10 main clusters in alphabetical order.
The temple-towers of My Son are thought to date back to the late 4th century and together formed the most significant intellectual, religious and political centre of the Champa kingdom, which controlled what is now contemporary Vietnam until the 13th century.
The Champa people were raised to be masters at the art of building rock and My Son is the greatest surviving example of that talent. Their advanced building technique was based on tightly packed smooth bricks, without any form of securing mortar, and it proved to last many centuries.
The remaining temples are a showcase of a unique cultural exchange of the architecture and art of Hinduism into South-East Asia, with the red brick structures still bravely fighting off the all-consuming growth of the dense tropical climate. Many bricks also boast fine carvings, depicting a range of images from deities and priests to dances, plants, animals and sacrifices.
Although much of what was once a city is now in ruins, My Son still paints the picture of a civilization now extinct but to which you can transport yourself by entering those temples where candles light up the darkness and history within. Steeping inside is to open your senses to another time when the temples were used for ceremonial, worship and even burial purposes.
My Son provides a fascinating insight not only into an ancient culture but also the powerful effects of time and vegetation that stops for no man-made object, even ones obviously constructed with such expertise and care as these all those centuries ago.
The damage to My Son has not all been natural though, as the site was subjected to heavy bombing from Americans during the Vietnam War. Fortunately, archaeologists alerted President Nixon to the damage being done to the ancient temples and he duly ordered bombers to avoid the temples where possible while continuing to attack the surrounding VC strongholds.
Strolling the ancient valley of the My Son sanctuary, steeping over ruins, plants and roots as you go, it is hard to picture any such destruction being wrought on what is a perfect blend of man and nature’s beauty in the most peaceful of settings.
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