Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos and Indonesia_ Christopher Clark's Cultural Itinerary _ Southeast Asia

I'm Christopher Clarke, and I'm travelling the world to discover its true treasures, the UNESCO World Heritage Sites. I'm in Southeast Asia, exploring the unique flora and fauna in this corner of the world and the roots of the deep spirituality that shape the local cultures. It's impossible to separate the spectacular architecture from the region's religious movements or from the great empires that rose and fell here throughout the centuries. Southeast Asia has a very special kind of magic. Its natural wonders and the secrets of the civilizations that arose here over the centuries are a big part of that. The diversity of peoples and languages, religions and temples is absolutely fascinating. This is where two major cultures meet, the Indian and the Chinese. Perhaps that's the reason for the region's irresistible allure. That's what I hope to find out. I want to show you this vast treasure of human heritage. I'm setting out to explore its roots and discover what remains today and what needs to be preserved. I'll eventually head to Bali on this journey, but first I'm travelling to a country in the space between India and China. I'll visit fascinating Vietnam and practically unspoilt Laos, but first my journey takes me to Cambodia, which was home to one of this planet's most astounding civilizations. As we approach the ruins through the jungle, I know how Frenchman Henri Moreau must have felt back in 1860 when he came to Angkor Wat. His descriptions made it well known to the Western world. Today it's a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The famous Angkor Wat is not a palace, it's a temple dedicated to the god Vishnu. Loosely translated, the name means a city made into a temple. And in fact, Angkor Wat is the largest sacred structure ever built. It's larger than St. Peter's Basilica or the Inca temples of South America. The Apsaras, the temple dancers, and the Devatas, female guardians, still watch over this holy place today. Child monks still use the site for ceremonies and blessings. The entire architectural complex breathes the spirit of sacred rituals. The visitor cannot help but feel small before these immense structures. Angkor Wat, the temple, is an artistic highlight of the indigenous Khmer culture. And Angkor, the city, was a centre of the mighty Khmer Empire. Nowadays, these ancient buildings are taken over, at least in the daylight hours, by hordes of monkeys and tourists. In the early hours of the morning, we're lucky enough to have this enormous jungle cathedral all to ourselves for a little while. The towers, designed to look like lotus blossoms, and the long galleries represent the order of the cosmos. The rulers of this place believed that they were at the centre of the universe. Hinduism was the main religion of the Khmer. The idea of the Devaraja, or god-kings, comes from that faith. The rulers saw themselves as incarnations of the god Vishnu, and this meant that they were protectors of their people and allowed them certain freedoms, but could also demand complete devotion. Religion was a tool of power for them, as so often in human history. These temples are evidence of that fact. But who was behind all of this? Which ruler placed himself on an equal footing with God? There's an image of him in Angkor Wat, depicted in a relief. King Suryavarman II ascended to the throne in 1113, when he was no more than 20 years old. He expanded the influence of Angkor, then known as Kambuja, by waging war against its neighbours and transforming the city around the temple into a bustling metropolis. The temple was a place of central importance to the Khmer. This is where they all came together. And these barelyevs were instruments not only of religious instruction, but also of propaganda and the projection of power. They were supposed to edify a mostly illiterate people, to teach them how to live virtuously. But they were also a platform for the emperor to exhibit his power, his heroic feats, and his enormous wealth. The sheer size of ancient Angkor is astonishing. The temple's layout was meticulously planned by priests and astrologers. Angkor was the leading global city of its era and the largest pre-industrial settlement on earth. Up to a million people are believed to have lived here. But what do we really know about day-to-day life in Angkor? Zhoda Guan, a Chinese diplomat and a contemporary of Marco Polo, was sent to Angkor in 1297 as part of an imperial delegation. He wrote down everything he saw, and his notes are our only evidence of what Angkor was like during its golden age. So how did the people here live their lives, and what does that tell us about their culture? The people of Angkor lived in wooden houses. Only the temples were made of stone, built to last for eternity. Every temple was reflected in a pool of water, a symbol intended to evoke the primeval ocean. Holy sites were always designed in perfect symmetry, and the tallest of the five towers in the middle of the complex represented the Holy Meru Mountain, the centre of their world. Angkor was not a sad place, according to Zhoda Guan, and the reliefs we can still find in Angkor today, around 800 years later, bear out his observation. Here's a cheerful market scene. A pig roasting at an inn. The imagery suggests that Khmer men were the ones doing the cooking. The women performed other tasks. The descendants of the Khmer live in the surrounding villages, where they cultivate grain and vegetables, and breed livestock. They lived together as extended families, and even today, you get the impression that the women play the leading role, as they did back in the era of the old Khmer, when the kings still reigned. Not only do they raise the children, they also organise the entire community, and tend to the animals. In the late 13th century, a new king, Jayavarman VII, also brought a new religion to Angkor, Buddhism. Even today, next to the Bayon Temple, commissioned by the king, there's a monastery, inhabited primarily by child monks. And benevolent Buddha faces, carved into the towers of the holy site, smile down on all beneath them. Jayavarman built his own temple, and so did all the other rulers of Angkor, which is why there's no shortage of them here. The reliefs on the exterior walls depict the construction of the temples of Angkor over the centuries. They were very proud of this work. They were great builders and engineers among the Khmer. How was it even possible to erect these temples in the middle of the Cambodian jungle? The Khmer were gifted engineers, and they did a little trick. They used laterite to construct the temple. When the stone is wet, it's easy to work with. It hardens quickly, and once it does, it lasts for an eternity. That's one reason why we can still admire Angkor Wat and the other temples today. Of course, this porous stone isn't particularly pretty. So when the temple was complete, a sandstone facade was added to the entire structure to make it worthy of the god Vishnu. Many vivid colours and a lot of gold added to the spectacular power of this holy place. Since the city was abandoned, nature has been reclaiming the territory that the Khmer once wrested from the jungle's grasp. This is particularly evident in Ta Prohm, a temple the king commissioned for his mother. Roots enfold the masonry like the tentacles of an enormous kraken, compressing it as they grow. Although this was a Buddhist temple, we still find motifs from the time when Hinduism dominated Angkor. It's a connection between the eras and the religions, likely arising from the tolerance and respect the Khmer held for their ancestors who still worshipped the god Vishnu. Strangler figs and silk cotton trees captured Ta Prohm. Botanists have found more than 150 species of tree in the temple complex alone. Many devatas watch over the temple, which was constructed in the late 12th century as a monastery. Over 12,000 people lived in the temple district. The surrounding villages had to serve the king's mother and her royal monastery. To get a sense of the former size of the city of Angkor, you really need to take to the skies. We lifted off in a tethered balloon. It wasn't until just a few years ago that researchers discovered just how massive Angkor actually was. All of this was Angkor. The extent of this city corresponded roughly to the size of today's Berlin. Using laser satellite imagery, a team of researchers from France and Australia was able to determine just how big the largest metropolis of the Middle Ages actually was, and they made an exact map. Every overgrown ruin, every trace of human development was recorded. It was a sensational project. A carefully planned and well-connected city became visible. Every block was separated from the next by a street or a canal. The two enormous water basins are particularly eye-catching. For the Khmer, they were more than just symbols of the primeval ocean. They were also, and perhaps more importantly, a reservoir for irrigating rice fields. Angkor's wealth came mainly from rice farming. These immense waterworks, reservoirs, dams and canals were just as central to Khmer culture as their temples, but their true dimensions really only become apparent when you cross them by boat. This eight-kilometre-long water basin collected the monsoon floodwaters from the mountains for use in the fields, and the entire city was supplied with water from here via stone canals, an impressive feat by the 12th and 13th century engineers. They were incredibly creative architects. The Khmer knew a lot about water management, explains Hung Peu, hydrologist of the region. The water played a very important role for the stability of the temple. So it means all the Khmer temples were built based on the water. The Khmer don't have the technique to make the foundation. And the soil in Siem Reap is very soft soil. It cannot support very heavy load. So the way they discovered is just to combine the technique in between the sand and water. And we can experience by ourselves to know how strong it is about the sand and water when we go on the beach. When we go on the beach, you can walk through the part where the sand is very humid. Your foot never sink. But the part where the sand is dry, your foot will sink. So they used that kind of technique to support our heavy temple. One of the last Khmer rulers is rumoured to have said, when the water around this temple disappears, our city's end is nigh. The powerful empire collapsed in the early 15th century. Climate change was one of the reasons why the Khmer had to leave this wonderful place they'd created for themselves. But megalomania and extensive human destruction of the surrounding natural world were also part of the problem. Angkor is a reminder of our own impermanence. My next destination is Cambodia's neighbour, Laos, and the city of Luang Prabang, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The vast Mekong River will carry me there. At more than 4,000 kilometres, it is Southeast Asia's longest river and the region's lifeline. The river peacefully wends its way through jungle landscapes and steep canyons into Laos, the former kingdom established in the 14th century. Even here on the river, it already feels like we're travelling into another world and another era. One hundred years ago, when British explorer James McCarthy first saw the temple roofs of the city of Luang Prabang from afar, he thought for a few seconds that he was witnessing a celestial phenomenon. Yet when he docked his boat and entered the city, he was filled with a deep melancholy because even then he realised that this was a world that belonged to the past. And yet it still exists today. In Luang Prabang, we can experience another era. UNESCO named Luang Prabang a World Heritage Site because it is actually one of the only cities in Southeast Asia that has been so well maintained and preserved through turbulent centuries. Over the last 25 years, the temples and houses have been painstakingly restored using traditional techniques, all under the strict supervision of UNESCO. The buildings here are constructed in a highly distinctive style. The richness of Luang Prabang architecture reflects the mix of styles and materials in this region. The restoration has breathed new life into this remarkable place. The people in Luang Prabang are still proud that their city was once the royal residence and the capital of Laos. But during the civil war of the 1960s and 70s, communist troops entered the city and carted the monarch and his family off to a re-education camp. It's believed that the king and his wife died there. Today, life is tranquil in the secluded Mekong Valley where Luang Prabang is nestled. Mass tourism hasn't yet transformed this corner of the world. But Chinese tourism is growing, and Laos is at risk of slowly losing its distinctive character. It's hard to imagine that this place was once a Southeast Asian powerhouse. Serpent symbols can be found everywhere in Laos. They are believed to protect the inhabitants of buildings. And the elephants are reference to the name of the ancient empire. Luang Prabang was the capital of Lang San, the powerful empire of the million elephants and the seat of the kings of Laos for centuries. The country was founded by Fa Ngum, the son of royal rulers. Fa Ngum was born with 33 teeth. Consequently, he was thought to be cursed and was abandoned on the Mekong River. A Khmer king found him and raised him as his own. As a young man, Fa Ngum returned to his homeland, conquered all the small principalities in this region, established the kingdom of Laos and spread the word of Buddha. Buddhism still dominates the atmosphere in Luang Prabang today. The gong dictates the pace of the monks' lives, the beginning and end of their work, prayers and meals. There are about 40 Buddhist monasteries here, but this one, Wat Xieng Thong, is the most important. It's centered on an ordination hall built in 1560. Frowning eaves sweep low to the ground. We're speaking with a young monk. How did Buddhism come to this place in Laos? Buddhism arrived with King Fa Ngum in the 14th century and with him came the Prabang, the most important likeness of Buddha in Laos. It gave the city its name and is still in our monastery today. Wat Xieng Thong means Temple of the Golden City. This is where the kings of Laos were crowned and today it is the country's most sacred Buddhist holy site. The temple was founded by King Setthathirat. It survived all the wars of conquest, lootings and pillages Luang Prabang has seen over the centuries. Many Buddhist believers are convinced that the serpent god who resides where the Mekong and Nam Khan rivers meet protects the sanctuary. There are patterned teak wood pillars supporting the roof. They are stenciled in gold on red or black lacquer with floral motifs, animals, scenes of daily life and Buddhist tales. On one of the walls a depiction of the heavens with the Buddha and several deities, the earth with people and trees. Sitting on an elaborate pedestal is the principal image of Buddha in the Bhumi Sparsha Mudra, his right hand touching the earth. A very special exception has been made for us. We've been permitted to attend a religious service for the monastery's monks and initiates. Many male Laotians join a monastery for at least some period of their lives. At an early age they learn Buddhist rituals such as the ancient chants and the sutras, but they also attend a regular school. In fact, for many of them, joining a monastery is their only option for education, especially if they come from rural areas. And life far away from home is not easy for the novices. Most of them can visit their families only once a year. It's impossible to imagine Southeast Asia without Buddhism. Buddhism sets the pace of life in this part of the world and that's especially palpable here in Luang Prabang. Since its founding in the 14th century, the city has been a religious centre for all Buddhists and you can't help but feel that Buddha, who influences every aspect of life here, has been elevated to the status of a god, although he never saw himself that way. At daybreak, monks from all the city's monasteries head out to participate in a Buddhist ritual. This tradition has lived on in Luang Prabang for centuries. The ritual is known as Tak Path. The monks walk the streets barefoot, accepting rice from the city's residents. The donors acquire spiritual merit and feel closer to Buddha. In a part of the world where mass tourism has for the most part swept everything before it, Luang Prabang really is an intact enclave from another time. As I leave Laos, I become aware of the fragility of these places and of the spirit that breathes life into them. My journey through the infinite diversity of Southeast Asia continues. My next destination is the world's largest island nation, Indonesia. The island of Bali, in the Indian Ocean, is also part of this country. It's home to an overwhelmingly Hindu society in a predominantly Muslim state. This is a world of volcanoes, lush rainforests, and carefully cultivated rice terraces. Rice cultivation was invented in China at least 8,000 years ago and it made its way to the Indonesian islands via trading routes. Even in the earliest documents discovered in Bali, rice cultivation is mentioned as a vital source of subsistence for the island. The fertile volcanic soil offers ideal conditions, but rice still needs abundant water to grow. Water is sacred to the Balinese. The ceremonies held in the days before the Balinese New Year festivities are a living example of this belief. Immersion in water is believed to purify the soul and to free it from sin. The sea is one source of purification and healing and in the Balinese hills, an ancient system of cascading terraces and dikes, known as subaks, captures rain and spring water, preserving, controlling and distributing it for the rice terraces used by the farming cooperatives. But the subaks are more than an irrigation system. They are a form of communal social organization, bound together with shared duty and festivities. An entire culture evolved around this idea, centered on the meticulous joint management of a precious natural resource. And today the subaks of Bali are a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Pulau Devata, the island of the gods, is what the Balinese call their home. And they say that the gods provide the water that flows in abundance on this island. The islanders make rich offerings to their gods to ensure their favor so that the springs never run dry. You can find temples at many of the springs and water reservoirs on the island, more than 20,000 in total. Temples to local deities, state temples of former kingdoms and temples dedicated to animal gods, like the holy monkey king, Hanuman. For Indian Hindus too, Hanuman, as one of the reincarnations of Shiva, is among the most important deities. The bat temple Puragowalawa is considered one of Bali's most important holy sites. At its heart is a cave that is home to thousands of bats. According to Balinese belief, the cave that leads deep into the mountain forms a connection with the underworld. Since the 11th century, the Balinese have held ceremonies here in the hope of making contact with the souls of their departed ancestors. As we can see, the temples of Bali are more than just relics of a past era. They are the site of opulent celebrations where countless offerings are carried to the temple, protected by ceremonial parasols. The ceremonies perform the idea of harmony between the worshippers, gods, nature and the whole of humanity. The offerings consist of up to 300 different types of plants and fruits. First they are presented to the deities in a procession, then served up on the altars. Gods and departed ancestors descend from heaven to the earthly temples to be celebrated. After 10 days, they return to heaven. With these tributes received, the gods of Bali will continue to ensure that the monsoons keep the rice fields fertile and the sacred water never stops flowing from the springs. This Balinese approach to life is thousands of years old, but today it is more modern than ever, because it treats nature not as a reserve to be exploited and consumed, but as a force in its own right and an equal partner. The island worlds of Southeast Asia, where the Pacific and Indian oceans meet, are among this planet's greatest natural wonders. I'm on my way to Vietnam, to Ha Long Bay, with its spectacular limestone formations that rose from the water over 300 million years ago. Lush vegetation blankets these uninhabited islands, some of which jut hundreds of meters out of the water. A number of the dense jungles are home to plants that can only be found here. But the idyllic atmosphere is deceptive. Storms and hurricanes have sunk many ships and claimed many lives. The bay can be dangerous, but its strangeness and beauty are breathtaking. The Vietnamese love myths and legends, and the story of this bay is no exception. Ha Long means something like the dragon from the mountains. As the story goes, this dragon saved the Vietnamese people when they were once again under threat from northern invaders. The Vietnamese were facing defeat in a sea battle when the Jade Emperor God sent a whole family of dragons to assist them in the bay. The dragons rained fire on their enemies and spat enormous, jagged emeralds into the bay, driving off the invaders. Those emeralds became the 3,000 islands we now see here. I'm looking for the families of the fishermen who make their home on Ha Long Bay. They live on houseboats connected to one another by planks to create a floating village. The Vietnamese authorities would prefer to relocate these fishermen to dry land, but the villagers love the freedom of living on the water, and they have done for hundreds of years. Each village is an independent entity. This particular community does not admit tourists, and visitors are a rarity. The floating villages are their own little world. A fisherman's family has invited us in. We're only meeting the men. The women are too shy. Smart phones are rare here, and televisions are nowhere to be found. When they aren't out fishing, they tell each other stories or play cards. What about the next generation, your little boy for example? Will the next generation of your family be able to live on the water as you have? Life here isn't easy, but we love it, and I hope my children and grandchildren will feel the same. When you are away from this place, you miss it. We used to live in Ba Hang, but the fishing grounds are better here. We hope that future generations will be able to make a living here. As we leave, I have to wonder how much longer this archaic floating world will actually survive, because the bay is under threat. Modern Vietnam could really use those dragons again today for an entirely different rescue mission. The bay is currently under threat from extreme pollution. In the floating village, the fishermen told me that they often catch more plastic garbage than fish in their nets. And untreated waste water from industrial plants and ships flows directly into the bay. I am speaking to Tran Van Hien from the Ha Long Institute for Environmental Research to find out what's being done to solve these problems. We want to preserve the magic of Ha Long Bay for generations to come. So there is only one strategy. We need to place very strict limits on the number of ships allowed into the bay, as well as on the locations that tourists are permitted to visit. UNESCO named the bay a World Heritage Site and has commissioned a range of programs to support the efforts to rescue this unique ecosystem. We can only hope that they'll succeed. Ha Long is also a world of caves and grottoes that formed in the limestone karsts over millions of years. Many legends have grown up around these often enormous caves. Stories of good and evil spirits said to live in them, and of the Mandarin who held young girls captive in his grotto. It's just a little eerie all alone in this cave. There are thousands of such caves around Ha Long Bay, and in many of them you can hear the same sound. Can you hear it? It's like the rumor of distant drums, and legend has it that these are the echoes of ancient battles of which there have been so many in Vietnamese history. During the last Vietnam War, Vietnamese soldiers would often hide in such caves to protect themselves from American air raids. And central Vietnam is the home of the world's largest cave complex, the Han Son Dung Cave, which was discovered in 1990. Today, it's a UNESCO World Natural Heritage Site. The cave is located in Phong Nha Ky Bang National Park, in a wild, primeval mountain landscape. The limestone karst formed 400 million years ago. It's one of the oldest in Asia. The landscape is dominated by dense tropical jungles and little rivers. Han Son Dung Cave is 9km long and up to 200m high at some points. You could fit Cologne Cathedral inside it. Enormous stalactites alternate with cave pearls formed by dripping water. A local man discovered the cave in 1991 when he was collecting wood in the jungle. He noticed steam curling out of a crack in the rock and assumed there must be a hollow space behind it. As he moved deeper into the jungle, he eventually discovered the entrance, not knowing, of course, that he had just found the largest cave in the world. Exploration of the cave is still far from complete, and it may turn out to be connected to other caves in the National Park. Some of the neighbouring caves were sacred to the Cham people, who lived here in the 9th and 10th centuries. Remnants of altars where the Cham worshipped their gods have been found here, and it's easy to understand why they chose these spots. Everything here feels otherworldly. It's amazing how little is yet known about the plant life in Han Son Dung. Plants have been discovered that only exist here, ferns, palms and other jungle species that have never been seen before. When you leave the cool, mysterious and musty world of the Vietnamese caves, it's a relief to be back in the sunlight, but at the same time you want to go back because you have the feeling that there might have been something new to discover just around the next corner. After the solitude of the caves, I'm actually looking forward to a bit of city life. I'm travelling to the old imperial town of Hue, famous for its gardens and palaces. You can sense that this forbidden city used to be a seat of power. In a stunning location on the Songhuang, the perfume river, this city was suddenly jolted from its sleepy provincial existence when it was named the capital. Emperor Xia Long of the Nguyen dynasty commissioned the construction of a fortress in 1802. It took 30 years to build. The emperor's family and a select group of elites were the only ones permitted to enter the inner city. For 150 years the Nguyen dynasty played little Beijing here in the Hue citadel. Their forbidden city is modelled closely, in a more modest register, on the forbidden city of the Chinese emperors in Beijing, and the Nguyen too saw themselves as sons of heaven. It's not unlike those lesser German princes who modelled their 18th century courts on the Versailles of the French Sun King. The courtly life of the Nguyen was correspondingly lavish, and it remained so even after the Vietnamese emperors became little more than puppets of the French colonial rulers. And in old photos the emperor and his court really do look like marionettes, displaced from time. The emperor's ornate gold throne remains, as if he and his retinue might return here at any moment. Even as the French extended their control across Indochina, a highly distinctive courtly culture evolved here. The citadel was a world within a city. There were temples, buildings for the royal household, ornamental gardens, shady paths, and long, airy passageways. Everything was designed in strict accordance with the ancient rules of Chinese architecture. The structures were intended to radiate harmony, but also to project power. And in 1968, during the Vietnam War, American and South Vietnamese troops fought bitterly with the Viet Cong on this exact spot. Mr. Nguyen, do you remember the American attack on Hue? At that time, I stayed here, in this city. In the Tet Offensive in 1968, the whole city was in the area of bomb runs from American aircrafts and artillery coordinates. The whole city, from the Forbidden City to Chuong Dap Gate, Chan Thai Gate, and the whole Imperial Palace was located in the coordinates of bombs dropped and shots fired. How horrible it was! The war heavily devastated. There was a lot of damage in citadels and palaces. One third of all construction units that were magnificent buildings and palaces of the past were devastated. There are 300 construction units and structures remaining with heavy damage. What an unfortunate fate! The Battle of Hue in January 1968 was one of the bloodiest of the Vietnam War. Hue and the old Imperial Residence were attacked and occupied by the Viet Cong. The South Vietnamese Army, assisted by the Americans, attempted to recapture them. The battle involved brutal urban warfare and bombings and napalm attacks by the Americans on the citadel. The Americans and the South Vietnamese Army were ultimately victorious and they raised the flag of South Vietnam over the entrance gate. I begin to realize what an important symbol this place is. Militarily, the Battle of Hue was a victory for the Americans and the South Vietnamese, but in political terms, it marked the beginning of the end of America's involvement in Vietnam and in all of Indochina. Munitions like these from the Battle of Hue during the Vietnam War are still lying everywhere on the ground here. They're traces of history. Sites like this are places of memory. They open a gate into the past. Today, this war remains both a trauma and a source of pride for the Vietnamese, all the more reason to make sure this ancient cultural heritage is preserved. Under the supervision of UNESCO, the Hue Citadel and Forbidden City are being restored, including the last Emperor's Library. Tai Cong Nguyen is showing me how craftsmen from Hue are restoring everything. The ancestors of some of the foremen practiced these ancient techniques as they worked on the old imperial palace. This was the king's reading room. This building was also damaged in the war, and we couldn't start restoring it until now. The craftsmen here are practicing a traditional Vietnamese trade. It's called Son Ta. It's a type of lacquer painting, and this lacquer can only be found in Vietnam. It has existed for hundreds of years. We want to make sure that the restoration of these monuments is completely authentic. So much has been achieved here, but much remains to be done. The Sung An Palace, close to the tomb of Emperor Tu Duc, has survived wars and floods. It too is now being restored to its original state. We have found remaining patterns on the walls and columns, and we are now restoring them to preserve the unique style of the whole site. Imperial power began to wane in Vietnam with Emperor Tu Duc, who ascended to the throne in 1847, but became a vassal of the French. He preferred writing poetry in his pavilions to the business of ruling. The Emperor Tu Duc can't have been a particularly happy man. This small, finely made individual is said to have been prone to melancholy. In an epitaph that he wrote for himself, he does praise his own virtues and achievements, but he also admits his many mistakes. His reluctance to take the initiative in the struggle against the French colonizers, for example, or the fact that he and his Empress failed to produce an heir to the throne. Perhaps he'd simply overexerted himself with his 103 concubines. Every summer, the Emperor and a bevy of concubines selected for their beauty would retreat to this tomb complex, which he had commissioned 3,000 labourers to build for him. Here, he would recite his own mournful poems. In the evenings, they would bring him a special tea of dew drops harvested from lotus flowers. And by the way, the concubines were expected to remain faithful to him until death. After his demise, they moved out of the Forbidden City to mourn and pray here until they eventually went to their own graves. The Emperor's tomb in Hue City is another World Heritage Site. It's a place of quite extraordinary grace. This spirit screen was intended to protect the ruler from wind and demons in his eternal rest. Each ceramic shard is charged with meaning. Emperor Torduk was a weak ruler, but he was a talented poet. He wrote countless lines of verse during his rule. One of his poems praises the city of Hue. Oh, Hue, mournful girl, come here, forget reality. And as he turned away from the world, Torduk intensified his commerce with the gods, who played an important role at the imperial court of Hue. Essential to the ritual life of the court was a uniquely Vietnamese style of courtly music that evolved from the 15th century but reached a high point under the Nguyen dynasty in the 19th century. Today, Nga Nac music is labelled as intangible cultural heritage. The instruments on which it's played cannot be found anywhere else in the world. This is a beautiful instrument. What's its name? Dang Yi. Dang Tam. Phat Ti. San Ti. Southeast Asia has been plagued by war for much of its history and repeatedly subjugated by foreign rulers. The Chinese came to Vietnam in several waves of conquest, followed later by the French and then the Japanese, who were soon supplanted by the Americans. The region's cultural heritage is of all the more importance. The treasures of Southeast Asia's ancient past and the pride in this history can be a source of strength in the face of an uncertain future, particularly here in Vietnam. Losing oneself in the past is no solution to the predicaments of the present. The fate of Tu Duc reminds us of that. But an awareness of the past and of its traces in the present can be a source of stability. Others were here before us. Of what they thought and built, much was destroyed and something has survived. There is humility and there is also hope in that insight. And we shouldn't underestimate its power, especially in times of rapid change.