The main Cao Dai cathedral is at Tay Ninh, the capital of the province of the same name. One can discern traces of its constituent parts in the architecture of its exterior. The twin steeples facing forward reminds one of those Gothic-style Roman Catholic cathedrals which abound in Europe. These steeples do not taper into spires at the top, but are instead crowned with Byzantine domes that are characteristic of many mosques around the world. The facade is replete with images of Oriental deities, saints and monsters.Cao Dai-ism (pronounced Gao Dai by the Vietnamese) is this melange of Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism, Roman Catholicism and Islam. This quirky South Vietnamese concoction of a faith can count on quite a sizeable following in the region of its birth. As with every other emergent religion, it has been accused of heresy and treated with suspicion, and its adherents have suffered persecution at the hands of those keen to snuff out what they see as a subversive flame.
Wandering inside the cathedral, one enters a long, cavernous hall, supported by columns around which wound intricately-carved dragons. The main altar is at the other end of this hall, between which is empty space, where followers observed mass and prostrated in times of prayer. Stewards watched vigilantly over the prayer space, keeping inquisitive tourists out of its bounds. On the altar rested an enormous sphere, painted in front with the Divine Eye, which Cao Dai-ism has in place of the Christian Cross, the Muslim Crescent and Star, or the Jewish Star of David.
The Divine Eye is so adopted as their religious emblem because the religion was the result of a series of visions which the founder (I can't remember his name really) had. The Eye is normally set in the centre of a triangular badge, with the white stripes emanating outwards representing the rays of wisdom it exudes. Presumably.
Cao Dai-ists pray four times a day, which is every six hours. We timed our arrival to coincide with their noon prayer, and it was quite an eye-opener, if you would forgive the pun. The rank and file (I know not how else to call them) don plain white prayer robes, while those of consequence, the clergy, wore blue, red or yellow robes, and were capped with symbols of office like that wore by Confucianist mandarins.The adherents filed in in two lines, the right for the males, and the left for the females. Before they all sat down to prayer, they faced each other in their lines and bowed, in a gesture akin to congratulating and toasting friends during celebrations and festivities. Prayer was conducted to the shrill, ululant chants of a choir who stood in the balcony on the second level and very haunting music provided by a small orchestra seated just next to them.It was all rather quixotic to the observer. Yet if one finds it amusing, one does not accord the whole affair, sombre as are all matters touching upon religious beliefs, the respect it deserves. I was surprised to learn that they so liberally permitted pictures to be taken of both the exterior and interior of their place of worship, and prayer sessions. Most surprising was that nobody forbade the photographing of their main altar bearing the holiest symbol of their faith, the existence of which is often held to be sacrosanct and barely worthy even of being beheld by the eyes of mere mortals as us. I was a party of the curious guilty, regrettably. Perhaps camera-wielding tourists form a convenient publicity platform and are unwitting proselytizeers, pardoned to carry far and wide beyond Vietnam the Cao Dai gospel. It probably carries a certain allure to seekers of the exotic. Yet even as I speak, the faith is still only firmly entrenched in the Tay Ninh region, and enthusiastic evangelists are still few and far between.
We left while prayer was still on-going, amused and bemused alike, and very much intrigued by the philosophy (which I will not go into, lest my inadequate grasp of theology should spark off a conflagration) and workings that differed a great deal from those of the more established religions we are familiar with.
The Cu Chi tunnels were sixty kilometres away from Tay Ninh, and sixty from Saigon. Viet Cong (VC) guerrillas dug a series of tunnels of a total length of more than 200km from there, and right under the very noses of the Americans, who established a heavy military presence in the area to stem the VC tide. Most of the tunnels have been destroyed by American carpet bombing, yet those which have remained undamaged have been repaired, restored, somewhat spruced up and turned into one of the must-sees in the South.Only one secret entrance remains amongst the many which the VC used with impunity to embarrass their better-equipped and better-supported foes. This has since become a popular photograph spot. Vietnamese fighters, with their slight frames, had to lift their arms above their heads to get inside the tunnel, and even so often only squeezed through. The dimensions of such an entrance was measured to exactness in order to thwart American GIs, with their wider girths and more muscular physiques.
An American M-41, which was destroyed by a delay mine in 1970, if you found the scribbling on the charred chassis illegible. For a rather primitive fighting force to stop a whole tank must have been a considerable achievement, one which the soldiers should have been very proud of. No doubt the reason why the tank still stands there - a memorial of man's eternal fallibility.
Manioc, slightly salted, and peanuts, what the guerrillas in those days subsisted on. A most suitable dish, for it was filling and provided quick bites for the hungry who had little time to eat, though I must say one cannot wholly rely on these for adequate nutrition. However, I found it to be quite amenable to my tastebuds, and grab more than a few of the sample on offer before I left the vicinity.
Whatever is left of the American bombs and shells which rained down on the area back in the 1960s and 70s.
As resources were scarce during wartime, the guerrillas salvaged and scavenged, often getting what they needed from what the Americans very uncharitably threw at them. Rubber they obtained from the tyres of destroyed American vehicles to turn into soles, and mines and bombs refashioned from the explosives extracted from blinds. And these ordnances hurled at the Vietnamese often found their way back where it came from, and killed who they weren't meant to kill.
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