Huế, Vietnam –
The car was rusted out with the original paint faded but still showing.
It was obviously a cherished relic, roped off, with a placard in front, proclaiming its holiness. Behind it, on the wall, was an all too familiar image. A monk, sitting on the street in Saigon, immolating himself, as the tensions were rising that would eventually lead to the Vietnam War.
In the famous photo, behind the flaming monk, sat a car. The same car he had driven down from Huế. The very car that stood in this place of honor.
In June of 1963, Thich Quang Duc drove down from Huế as part of the Buddhist uprising, protesting their treatment at the hands of the Catholic Diem administration. This event started the crumbling of international support for the Diem administration, leading eventually to a coup d’état by the military. Now the car is a relic at Thein Mu Pagoda in Huế.
I had arrived on one of the infamous bicycle taxis. I had not planned on taking one of these, but this one driver would not leave me alone, and once I agreed, I could not get rid of him. At our various stops, he would refuse payment (at least until we got back to my hotel).
I was later scolded by the Concierge at my hotel for taking it, as you have no way of knowing what you will be charged until it’s time to settle the bill.
It was bumpy, dirty (complete with dust in my eyes), and almost as slow as walking. The slightest hill felt like he wasn’t going to be able to climb and we’d both have to get off and walk. Yet I’m glad I took him up on the ride, if only for having had the experience.
But if I go back to Huế, or anywhere in Vietnam for that matter, I probably won’t be taking one again.
Once at the pagoda, I saw a couple of tourist boats available for hire on the bank of the Perfume River. I was tempted to ditch my bicycle taxi and take one of those back to the central part of the city (along with the tour of the city from the river), but not wanting to tempt karma, I stuck with my driver for the ride back. I’m still wondering if that would have been a way to force him to accept payment for the ride at that point, and prevented the accumulation of additional fares.
The Thein Mu Pagoda is the tallest pagoda in Vietnam. It is situated on a hill overlooking the Perfume River.
Don’t ask my why it’s called the Perfume River. That’s just the river’s name. I’m sure whomever named it had their reasons. It probably had something to do with flowers on its banks, or something like that.
Surrounding the Pagoda is a collection of stele in open-air huts. One is on the back of a huge stone turtle, and they all are full of Kanji writing, from top to bottom. Behind it is a set of gates that lead to the rest of the grounds.
There was a Koi pond, lots of potted plants, and a series of open-air huts, some of which contained statues of what I assume are significant monks down through the history of this pagoda, a few of whom were dark-skinned. I wondered if there might have been some African immigrants to the Southeast Asia region a few hundreds of years ago, some of who had become prominent Buddhist monks. The next day, I would see similar statues at one of the Emperors’ tombs, only they would be dressed as warriors.
On either side of the grounds were gardens of trees, all planted in rows. In one of these was what appeared to be a primitive work-out area, complete with a barbell with stone weights on either end (there was also a group of young girls, posing for each other like they were fashion models, but that was just girls being teenagers.)
At the back of the grounds was what looked like an altar of some sort. Of course, that could be just my western-culture, non-Buddhist interpretation of its purpose. At the very least, it seemed to be an area set slightly apart for a different type of contemplation and meditation than the rest of the gardens. In fact, the whole gardens seemed to be designed to produce different types of contemplation and meditation in the different areas, almost like the Buddhist equivalent of the Catholic stages of the cross. Then again, that could just be my outsider interpretation of it.
Which brings me back to where I started. Over on one side, in one of the huts, sat the car.
It seems an odd choice for a relic, a car that was driven to the spot where a monk would immolate himself as a means of protest. I wonder if the famous photo of the immolation had not captured the car in the background, would this car still be considered such a holy icon?
Or is it because, through his immolation, and the subsequent cremation, Thich’s heart never burned, so anything associated with him now becomes holy?
Many Buddhists revere him as a bodhisattva, with the intact heart a symbol of compassion.
It sometimes strikes me as odd, the items various religions revere…
For photos from the Thein Mu Pagoda, click here.
Leave a Reply