Hospitality exists in every corner of the globe. But Asia is the mother of hospitality. Again in Asia, Bali, Vietnam and Thailand have precedence. In Vietnam, a dozen university girls stood in a queue to kiss my son one by one. It is unique and may not happen elsewhere! You may wish to peek on a travelogue that I wrote after visiting Vietnam. My Son and my son My Son is a name of a valley in central Vietnam where we headed to visit the ruins of Hindu temples built by Champa kings in between 4th century and 14th century. In Vietnam, we were exploring world heritage sites and we started from Halong Bay at the north, a quiet water body in an area of 1500 sq km with sporadic rocky islands. These islands are monolithic in nature, sometimes with thick vegetations. With a slide drop straight to the south, we arrived Hue city, country’s former capital of Nguyen dynasty. Hue is blessed with a river called Perfume river that virtually winding up citadel, forbidden city and royal palaces around. In the past, there were a lot of hue and cries around Hue as it was not only a political centre but also the hot spot of cultural and religious activities. By the way, Perfume river is like any river, no aroma of perfume was realised whatsoever. Our third destination of world heritage site was the Hoi An city. Not far from Hue, Hoi An is a small pedestrian- friendly old port town. In terms of trade in southeast Asia in the recent past, the name of Hoi An is significant. The old part of the town frequently observes part of the day without motor vehicles and part of the night without electricity that result quieter traffic and magical night with lanterns. In Hoi An, you will find a colony of artists who survive and attract tourists with their beautiful creations. My Son was unknown to me until recently. Unlike Borobudur and Pranbanan of Indonesia, Ankor Wat of Cambodia, Bagan of Myanmar or Ayuthaya of Thailand, My Son is less talked temple complex in Vietnam. In 1999, it was recognised as world heritage site by UNESCO. It’s amazing to know that Lord Shiva, a premier Hindu God of Trinity who is responsible for creation of lives as well as destruction, travelled from ancient India to a deep valley of Vietnam with His carrier bull Nandi and the weapon Trishul. My Son is a cluster of roughly 70 ruined temples and tombs scattered over a length of 2 kilometers surrounded by two mountain ranges. After a little study on My Son in the various websites, I found the names of kings such as Bhadravarman, Shambhuvarman and Prakasadharma, who in an interval of centuries, contributed greatly in the construction and maintenance of this huge ground. The developments of My Son is virtually the rich history of Cham civilisation in central Vietnam. Restorations of ruined or abandoned temples and tombs are undergoing with the draft plan of UNESCO and funded by Italy, Japan and Germany. Among the remaining buildings in My Son, all are of religious nature. We saw brick shelter in the form of tower called Kalan which is the house for deity, Mandapa, the hallway, Koshagrha or fire-house for cooking for the deity and Gopura, the gate-tower leading to the temple complex surrounded by walls. Interestingly, many of them survived the carpet bombing by USA during late sixties or early seventies. Now let me allow to turn your attention from My Son to my son and tell about my travel experience all the way in Vietnam and bring my son in the limelight to make a point. In Vietnam wherever we travelled, my son was greeted with smile by the public. Be it the boatman at Halong Bay or the chef of the floating restaurant, or the grandma on the way to Chu Chi tunnel or the receptionist at the hotel, everybody showed a heritage of loving to the children. In Hue, a dozen of university girls stood in a queue to take photo with my son. In Ho Chi Minh city, a poor street hawker offered a canned drink to him; this is definitely a touching gesture in a land beyond yours. Vietnam has its own heritage to love children. The overall culture is to focus on the family which is truly Asian and part of a society where agriculture takes precedence. In a world of rat race, hypocrisy and artificiality, loving to the innocence and kindness is gradually disappearing. After Bali and Thailand, I have witnessed a heritage of loving and hospitality once again in Vietnam.
Posted on: Sat, 31 May 2014 00:33:23 +0000
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