The Three Doors into the Temple of Chua Bai Dinh

We enter the temple beneath the big wooden swastika

Stepping carefully over the huge threshold.

(To step on it is bad luck).

'You will notice', our guide informs

'That there are three doors into this temple.

But only one is ever opened.

They represent Heaven, Earth and Hell.'

An American man laughs nervously

And wants to know which world we have just stepped into.

Our guide looks unsure

But then brightens and tells us this is Earth door.

He points ahead to a big bronze statue

Of a rather fierce looking gentleman

With long beard and long spear

Glaring down at us.

'That is Zhong Kui, the God of Death

You will meet him after you die

And he will decide where you will go,'

Our guide says.

'Heaven or Hell,

Depends on what you have done in your life.'

I have included a photo below

Of the throng passing before Zhong Kui

Though I don't know what his judgement was

Their faces are of not those 

On their way to Paradise.

His knees worn black from the hands of good luck wishers

The Temple at Chua Bai Dinh

In days bygone, temples and churches were built

By kings and wealthy merchants who figured that

A little investment here on earth

Would pay handsome dividends in the afterlife

And perhaps wipe the slate clean

And cause the gods to overlook

The misdemeanors undertaken

To get their wealth in the first place.

And so temples and churches

Pleasing to the eye, awe-inspiring to the spirit

Serve first for holy men

Then later as time goes by

As people look no longer to future heaven world's

The rich men's monuments become tourist attractions

And entrance fees are charged

Souvenirs sold

And the present day owners settle for monetary rewards on earth

Rather then uncertain heavenly ones.

A private company in North Vietnam

Perhaps at the sharp end of such matters

Have done away with the first step

And with ten million dollars spent

Have created a vast temple complex

Using reclaimed materials and local craftsmen

To harvest the proceeds of second step.

The result is pleasing to the eye

And awe-inspiring to the spirit

For as Art imitates Life

People come here to pray

And bow down to the hundreds of statues

Of Buddhist arahuts and Chinese gods

And burn incense

And the bronze knees of the patient saints

Are worn smooth and black

By the hands of the pilgrims.

On the road to Bai Dinh

The clouds lie heavy
Oppressive and grey
And the dust rises from the concrete
To meet the surly sky.
Outside the bustling city
Life is lethargic and stifled
Like a blade of grass
Trying to grow up through tarmac.
Our bus driver sounds his horn incessantly
As is the custom here
And fellow road users
(Mostly big trucks)
Blare back at him
But the poor in their flat conal
hats walk quietly
With slow steps along the dusty roadside
Or pedal their rusty bikes
Carrying their meagre wares
Or simply sit on the verges
With 2 or 3 pineapples
Spread before them.
The houses are small and ramshackle
Built of stone with terracotta roof tiles
Like medieval village houses in Europe
Or they are 5 or 6 stories high
But curiously never more than a room width wide.
A shiny black Mercedes S class
Overtakes our bus
The driver in a tearing hurry.
The suffering of the poor
Is a slow, weary acceptance
Of what is now and probably will be tomorrow.
But the suffering of the rich is a hot quick thing
Of what isn't, of what should be
And of what MUST be tomorrow.

Hanoi Social Club

Hanoi Social Club
A place where Social means
That it helps society
In this case, they help people
From disadvantaged backgrounds
And train them to become exceptional chefs and waiting staff
And the result is,
Some of the best vegan food
In south East Asia.

Hanoi (Old Quarter)

One thousand years of being a capital
Of countless foreign invasions
From East, from West.
And still the old trees
Line the narrow streets
And the people, polite and courteous
Drink endless cups of tea
Outside crumbling doorways
And drivers sound their horns
For no apparent reason
And sidewalks are for parking motorbikes
And street vendors to place their wares.
I step inside an ancient Chinese doorway
To a mysterious Chinese temple
And find myself in a leafy, shady courtyard
Where the constant din of the street
Fades away.