We turn up before the appointed 12 noon outside the Great temple of the Cao Dai-ists. The faithful, dressed in white sheets, are begining to flock together. Strictly no footwear inside, so in the queue the pavement burns the soles of the feet a little.
We take our place in the cool of the gallery which is reserved for un-believers. Over a thousand fully paid up members of the Waiting-for-God's-Representatives-on-Earth-To-Arrive Society file in, men to the right hand side and women to the left.
The Cao Dai have been hanging around since about 1920 in feverish expectation of the arrival of these mediators of the Almighty. Six or seven vacant chairs form the centrepiece of the temple, which to date have never been filled.
Briefly, the faith recognises Confucious, Buddha and Jesus, although Victor Hugo comes in on the act somewhere as well. There is lot of use made of pink and sky blue paint, melanges of serpents and then one huge eye, the Eye of God...
Anyway, an oriental string band starts up which accompanies the massed voices. The effect is not unlike early Pink Floyd, the end of the 'Obscured by Clouds' album, I think.
I'm only guessing, but this daily ritual and collective power of mind looks like it could easily be designed to hasten the imminent arrival of the seat-takers.
"Imagine if they did turn up today!" I say to Isabelle, "That would be a turn up for the books!" As we file out before the queuing starts again, in my mind I'm saying "I'll let you get on then" which of course is the polite way to say "I want to go now".
TONIGHTS MENU.
An entree of roll your own rice pancake with Intestinal tripe-rubber and lettuce (Don't eat the lettuce) dipped in fermented fish sauce. Followed by Curried pelvic cartilidge and frogs legs with onion pieces. Main course; Boil your own eel segments in spicey liquid with groundsel, grated banana peel and cold rice noodles. Washed down with two bottles of 'Saigon Red' beer.
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3 comments:
Well, curiosity and a grey afternoon got the better of me: I've been googling for well over an hour, but still can't find any good reason for the veneration of Victor Hugo. Sure, he claimed that christianity would eventually disappear, and the Cai Daoists might agree, but I've been known to rail against formal religion as well (especially after a few drinks) and you don't see ME depicted in a temple painting, or at least not in a flattering manner, and certainly not as a SAINT.
And just wondering a bit further about this point: have the Cai Dao considered a kiosk -- or a notice board at the very least -- at the Victor Hugo Metro stop? It just seems like a natural point from which to spread their message (not to mention their shockingly bright pastel colors) westward... Perhaps if you offer this suggestion they will similarly honor you, in the manner of Mssr. Hugo, as a sign of their appreciation. I'd be willing to bet that saints get to charge at least a teensy bit more for their chimney services and the like.
Maybe the idea would have been for you and Isabelle to wander up and sit in the vacant chairs - now that'd really be a turn-up for the books! Neither of you'd ever have to work again!
Oh, and I reckon a couple more bottles of Saigon Red might have been needed to keep that lot down!
Well I did wonder what credentials the Cai Dao would actually require to accept one as worthy of veneration?
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