THE 2024 BAC SON EXPEDITION
EXPLORING A LOST ASIAN WORLD

From March 10–22 2024, Secret Indochina explored the Bac Son plateau in collaboration with Secret Planet’s Expeditions Unlimited. The mission aimed to explore the southern part of the plateau, define access routes, and identify specific features.

A wilderness lost in the mists of time, the Bac Son plateau or formation (C-P bs, “the thousand and one mounts” or “a thousand cat’s ears”) forms the central part of the Ke Bang-Phong Nha massif in the Quang Binh province of north-central Vietnam.

Unknown and inaccessible, Bac Son embodies a vanished world, similar to certain regions of Papua New Guinea and the upper Amazon. Analogous to C. Doyle’s Maple-White Land, the plateau is rectangular in shape and insulated by escarpments on all four sides. It is covered by a limestone labyrinth, which is itself buried beneath an unfathomable primary forest frequently shrouded in the ethereal, ever-changing veil of ocean mist.

The plateau rises in the south-west of the strictly protected area of Phong Nha National Park (the Thuong Trach zone). Oriented on a north-south-east axis, it stretches for an average of 20 km and is five km wide. Its western side overlooks the Laotian border and the jagged formations of Hin Namno National Park, while its southern side overhangs the axis of the great Ca Roong fault, and its northern and eastern sides dominate other slopes. Its eminences rise to an average altitude of 800m, and one of its main peaks is Mount Tra Du (765 m), an imposing structure in the shape of a ziggurat.

The Bac Son karsts are intertwined and form impenetrable mazes. They date back to the Carboniferous period and vary in thickness from 700–900m. Around 400 million years ago, the region was covered by a warm ocean, where marine organisms deposited strata of calcium and magnesium carbonate to create limestone strata. Tectonic movements raised the strata above sea level, creating the Bac Son plateau.

Over millions of years, typhoons and acid rain infiltrated the cracks, dissolving the friable parts of the rocks. Water penetrated deeper and deeper, accumulating in rivers and underground basins. Winds and erosion continue to sharpen the heights of the plateau into a capricious, cat-eared pattern.

The limestone in Bac Son is generally dark grey or whitish (in the case of oolithic limestone), sometimes with pinkish tones. Alongside these phenomena, the plateau is a highly tectonised area where tectonics are generally expressed through faults. Several orogeneses have been superimposed.

The intensity of movement has revealed three types of faults: Direct (vertical displacement), inverted or thrust (vertical and thrust displacement), and sliding (horizontal displacement). Created during the Paleozoic era, these faults were very active during the Early Carboniferous and Cretaceous periods and separate various rock compartments.

The main faults can be seen on satellite images, while others are invisible due to vegetation cover. The most notable is the Ca Roong fault, which forms the southern boundary of the plateau. It runs on a west-east axis between Laos and Vietnam and is 35 km long and an average of 50m wide.

The plateau is covered by sub-mountain evergreen rainforest, with epiphytic flora dependent on ocean winds to provide the ideal humidity for developing ecosystems. It is a nearly impregnable sanctuary for a variety of fauna, including felines, the Malayan and Himalayan bears, the hatinh langur (an Old World monkey), the douc, the white-sided gibbon, the dhole (the Asian wild dog), the saola, the muntjac, the Annamite striped rabbit, and the Laotian rock rat.

In ancient times, Proto-Indochinese peoples lived on the edge of the plateau and in the uncertain spaces stretching between Khammouane and Dong Hoi. Some lived in caves, while others settled in villages along the rivers, developing an intimate relationship with the great forest. These peoples mainly belong to the Bru-Van Kieu group, whose sub-groups are the Khua, Ma Coong, So and Tri. The other group is the Chut, whose sub-groups are the Ma Lieng, May, Sach, Ruc and Arem.

The existence of these peoples was based on slash-and-burn agriculture and the forest, the sacred home of genies and infinite source of life. As early as the first millennium AD, the Cham came to the village of Phong Nha to build a number of caves, which were further developed by the French during the colonial era. During the Vietnam War, Ke Bang and Bac Son were crossed by offshoots of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. The Laotian side was heavily bombed by the US Air Force, and, according to our information, several of its aircraft crashed there.

In the 2000s, led by General Vo Nguyen Giap, members of the British Caving Association and National Geographic discovered a number of cave networks in the area, including So’n Doong. The creation of Oxalis Adventure and the filming of King Kong Skull Island further raised the region’s international profile.
 

Preparing for the expedition

The Bac Son expedition itself was part of this continuity of research and projects. Its innovative principle was to explore Ke Bang via its southern gateway and its center along the Lao border, an under-explored and sensitive technical axis. The expedition required three years of preparation and a number of preliminary scouting missions on the plateau foothills.

Its conception involved a set of technical factors that unassembled by Westerners since 1975. The expedition required a series of permits from two army corps, a ministry, the Quang Binh Provincial People’s Committee, and the Thuong Trach District People’s Committee – all of which we would like to thank very much.

The expedition comprised 47 people, including two representatives of Secret Indochina, five members of Unlimited Expeditions including a French mountain guide, a team of ten Vietnamese logisticians, a team of 25 Ma Coong (scouts, porters, water carriers and the three vestal-guards of Camp Paradise), representatives of the army and the national park, as well as a scientist (the Snake-man) and a dronist.

The expedition’s route was predefined by identifying around 50 GPS points located from a Secret Indochina office. The points were identified by cross-referencing satellite and topographic maps. The final objective was points 5-2 and 5-3 on the southern peaks of the plateau, above the southern cliffs and the great fault.

The team applied sustainable procedures, including waste management and camp toilets, to minimize the expedition’s impact on the untouched forest.

Setting out

The first night was spent at Camp Paradise, the expedition’s Base Camp 1. The camp lay by the middle Ke Shar, a wild, winding river lined with ancient trees, including old sraolaos, a slender species with a mottled white trunk. Over the next two days the team made its way towards the great Ca Roong fault, first following the Ke Shar – misted with clouds of illuminated butterflies at this time of year – then onto a schistose ridge, a former slash-and-burn area colonized by bamboo woods and a secondary forest with more sraolaos.

At point A-2, the expedition entered the karstic meanders that define the plateau and its foothills. The team threaded its way gingerly via points A-3, A-7 and A-12 bis through a maze of fissures, valleys, and dolines overhung by rocky peaks extended by cliffs, along which gleaming lianas dangled imperceptibly. In some places, age-old trees stood majestically, their intertwined branches forming an impenetrable green dome that obscured the sky and filtered the light, creating dancing shadows and strange reflections. The calls of invisible creatures echoed in the distance.
 

Two intermediate camps were set up. Progress was slow, averaging two km a day, with the openers cutting a path and small cliffs needing to be equipped to ensure smooth progress. The average temperature was 30°C with 85% humidity. North of point A-12 bis, the great Ca Roong fault appeared. Dark and frightening, it formed a black furrow, undulating like a giant python beneath the high, whitish cliffs, disappearing in places as if drowned under collapsed clumps of vegetation.

In some places, caverns extended into the depths of the plateau above. From the central parts of the cliffs enigmatic entrances to unknown caves emerged, some of them probably the periodic outlets of underground networks. This progression continued for two km along the fault before reaching Camp 1.

Camp 1 served as Base Camp 2, an operational base for reaching the plateau below. Set out along a narrow limestone ridge with one of the flats forming its central part, the camp was designed according to a pyramidal model, with sub-camps and fires scattered along the spur. To the north, the site was overlooked by the majestic Bac Son southern cliffs, and to the east by crenellated karst peaks whose whitish cliffs shimmered in the east.

From Camp 1, the team made two attempts to reach the heights of Bac Son; the complication was finding a passage between the cliffs to protect its access. The first attempt was unsuccessful, as the team came up against an impassable bar of crumbly limestone. The second attempt succeeded via the estimated point 5-2. It was reached by crossing the fault and climbing up its counter-slope – an area covered in collapsed rattan through which a narrow plant tunnel had to be cut – then following a diagonal incline through a series of gullies and combes where colossal hsienmus with epiphyte-laden ridges and oversized reddish roots flourished. A gap higher up led to point 5-2 and the summit of the silvery cliffs.

From a promontory, the view was one of an inconceivable wilderness. Phantasmagorical karst rises dominated point A-12 gorges to the south, while the pyramid of Mount Tra Duc and its tortuous ramifications peeked through in the southeast. To the southwest stretched the thousand and one steep walls of the Laotian border and Hin Namno national park. To the north lay the unknown, the plateau itself, whose gateway was a labyrinthine entrance to a combe walled in by intertwining vegetation.

Reaching this point (5-2) and the southern gateway to the plateau was a major achievement for the expedition. The last two days were spent departing the area, following the western foothills of Mount Tra Duc and via Camp Paradise.

The last night was spent at Camp Paradise, a base camp lulled by the murmurs of the Ke Shar River, the sound of gongs, croaking frogs, and other cackling sounds. In the morning, the expedition left the great forest, while a royal eagle flew majestically near the edge. The mists of dawn gently enveloped the distant horizon as we caught last glimpses of the southern cliffs of Bac Son, the mysterious entrance to a lost world awaiting our return... 
 

• The great Ca Roong fault.
• The entry or exit of unexplored underground networks, mainly above the Ca Roong fault.
• On the northern heights of the middle Ke Shar: areas of ancient slash-and-burn and the remains of ancient Ma Coong villages.
• In the great fault: A charred clearing, considered by the Ma Coong to be the crash site of a US Air Force aircraft.

Flora and fauna

• Colossal hsienmus (Burretiodendron hsienmu), a rare tree species, characterized by its split bark and powerful tentacular roots, scattered in the form of localized woods in talwegs.
• Sraolaos (Lagerstoemia calyculata), scattered in woods of around ten specimens, along the Ke Shar River.
• Banyan trees (Ficus benghalensis), established singly or in pairs, along the banks of the middle Ke Shar and on its heights (on areas of former slash-and-burn sites and Ma Coong villages).
• Giant alocasia (Leucocasia gigantea, Alocasia macrorrhizos or Caribbean Dream, giant taro, elephant ear), grouped in stands of around 30 specimens in wet areas such as the bottoms of sinkholes or along the large fault.
• Musa (wild banana) woods, mainly along the great fault.
• Varieties of cycas (palm tree).
• Sugar palm tree (Arenga pinnata).
• Small, isolated clusters of Hopea hainanensis, Dipterocarpus kerrii, Dipterocarpus hasseltii (or keruing wood), Sindora tonkinens, Saraca and Dalbergia bariaensis (a species of rosewood).
• Rattan undergrowth in small vales on the lower slopes bordering the great fault.
• Varieties of bamboo, including Bambusa tulda and Dendrocalamus hamiltonii.
• Varieties of lianas, ferns, Lauraceae and epiphytes.
• Orchids including Calanthes and Sabot de Vénus (Paphiopedilum).
• Curculigo annamitica (weevil grass).
• Varieties of mushroom, including Auricularia politrycha (a blackish, cartilaginous species that grows on dead wood), Agaricus pleutorus (the oyster mushroom, which grows in tight, sometimes voluminous clumps), and Boletus edulis Bull (a species of Asian Boletus).

• Signs of langurs (Trachypithecus hatinhensis), gibbons (Nomascus leucogenys), pangolins (Manis javanica), muntjacs (Muntiacus, the barking deer), hornbills (Aceros undulatus), eagles (Nisaetus nipalensis), various bat species and geckos (Gekko gecko, Certodactylus phongnhakebangensis). The signs being tracks, droppings, scratches on tree trunks, rock shelters, small water wells and daytime and nocturnal calls.
• Mollusks, crustaceans, insects and amphibians, including river and land snails, river shells, crabs, toads, frogs, salamanders, tadpoles, various species of arachnids, dragonflies, butterflies, locusts, chafer beetles, flies, mosquitoes, wasps and rhinoceros beetles (Oryctes nasicornis).
• Various snake species are identified, including the Pareas formosensis (Formosa slug snake), the Rhabdophis siamensis (Siamese red-necked keelback), the Trimeresurus truongsonensis (Truong Son pit viper), and the Boiga cyanea (Green cat snake).

With a lifelong commitment to the arts, from the wild west of Montana to the eastern shores of New York and Japan, Suzanne Lecht is an art director recognized as an authority on contemporary art in Vietnam.

After the sudden death of her husband in 1992, with whom she had been living in Japan for several years, Suzanne was in search of a new horizon, a new passion and focus for her life. After several trips to Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Bangkok and Chiang Mai, fate led her to read an article by Nora Taylor in the Vietnam Investment Review titled “Art’s ‘Gang of Five’: those to watch are organizing a third joint exhibition of art from the heart.” The article immediately appealed to her.

Formed in Hanoi in 1983, the Gang of Five comprises Hong Viet Dung, Ha Tri Hieu, Dang Xuân Hoà, Tran Luong and Pham Quang Vinh, a celebrated and mysterious group of painters who formed one of the first artist groups in postwar Vietnam. These five men came together to achieve something new. At the time, art was still dependent on government decisions. The message was clear: Works ordered by the authorities had to conform to romanticism or propaganda; anything else was considered illegal. True observers of their changing country, the small group of artists began to paint their hopes, dreams and inner spiritual lives, which they exhibited in their own studio without an audience.

It was a laboratory of artistic ideas that was liberated in the 1990s, a period when the country was opening up, in the same way as writing, literature, and cinema. This group followed the wave of transformations in Vietnamese art in the post-Doi Moi period, the name given to the economic reforms launched in 1986 with the aim of creating a “market economy with a socialist orientation.” These pioneers of abstraction would become one of the most important figures on the contemporary art scene in postwar North Vietnam.

Intrigued by their innovative works of art that fuse East and West with iconic Asian symbols and compositions, Suzanne began to dream. She decided to move to Vietnam, with its tragic and painful past, on a mission to find the Gang of Five and help them emerge from the shadows of censorship and the American embargo. She sought a chance to collaborate with these extraordinary artists who symbolize a surge of hope and peace, and to serve, in a way, as an intercultural bridge through the healing power of the arts. Coincidence or destiny, Suzanne was invited to lunch at the home of one of the Five, Pham Quang Vinh, thanks to Phuong, a Viet Kieu returning to his roots whom she met on her first day in Hanoi at the Ho Chi Minh Museum. It was in January 1994, a year and a half before the re-establishment of diplomatic relations between Vietnam and the United States. The hospitality of this family, who welcomed her with open arms, was matched only by the succulent cuisine they served. Suzanne received an invitation to the studio of Ha Tri Hieu, another member of the Five. Magic happened and it was the beginning of a new phase in her story.

From then on, Suzanne has been committed to bringing to light exceptional local artists who are singular and passionate in their expression. In June 1997, on the occasion of the handover of Hong Kong to China, and together with Percy Weatherall, former CEO of Hong Kong Land (one of Asia's oldest and most prestigious developers), she organized the art exhibition “The New Face of Hanoi” in Hong Kong. The exhibition featured the works of Nguyen Quân, artist, art critic and mentor of the Gang of Five; Thành Chuong, renowned for his monumental lacquer works; his dear friend Pham Quang Vinh; as well as two young emerging artists, Lê Quang Hà and Pham Minh Tuan. The event was the first of many.

In 1994, with the good graces of Pham Quang Vinh, Suzanne set up the Art Vietnam Salon Gallery, with the aim of presenting Vietnamese contemporary art and ancient culture in an authentic atmosphere. Established on the southern outskirts of Hanoi, the unusual interweaving of a white Thai house on stilts, imported from Mai Chau, sits atop a two-story base built to resemble a traditional pagoda. It is a humble, peaceful dwelling adorned with furniture and ornaments crafted by talented woodworkers under the inspiration of the two commissioners.

Today, this art gallery, which symbolizes Suzanne’s love and admiration for Vietnam, has helped establish the international market for contemporary Vietnamese art. In the future, Suzanne hopes this world-renowned venue will become a center for artistic research and a hub of cultural events for researchers, artists, and collectors.

For art lovers visiting the capital, meet Suzanne Lecht and immerse yourself in the history of Vietnamese art and its particularities. Enjoy the current mixed exhibition, which features works including lacquer sculptures by Lê Thua Tien, bronze sculptures by Nguyen Thi Chinh Lê, Nôm calligraphy by Le Quoc Viet, multi-faceted works by the oldest artist represented Nguyên Cam, the relief photographs of Nguyen The Son, or the creations of Dinh Thi Tham Poong, an artist born in Lai Chau in 1970 to a Muong father and a white Thai mother, who combines images of her own Muong heritage with a surreal visual landscape.


© Caption: Time is the King III, Watercolor, gold leaf on handmade Do paper, by Dinh Thi Tham Poong, 2022.

                          

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In a previous issue, I briefly outlined the general framework in which Southeast Asian scripts were born and developed. Commercial relations between chiefdoms in Southeast Asia and kingdoms in the southern part of the Indian subcontinent gave rise to a vast cultural flow, later described as Indianization or Hinduization. Travelers visiting Southeast Asia cannot help but be impressed by the scale of this movement that produced superb statuaries, a plethora temples, and numerous stelae that have been invaluable to unraveling the history of the region.

Indians and Local People, from Vo Canh to Dông Yên Châu

It all began with inscriptions in Sanskrit. The oldest is the stele of Vo Canh, discovered near Nha Trang, which dates to the 3rd century AD. In the same way that the Latin alphabet was used for writing languages that have nothing to do with Latin – Vietnamese is a good example – the script of the Vo Canh stele was adapted to local languages that had no connections to Sanskrit.

The prize for the very first editorial in the local language goes to … the Chams. Discovered in 1936 at Dông Yên Châu, near the ancient Cham capital of Indrapura in the region of present-day Dà Nang, the very first inscription in the Cham language has been dated to the 4th century AD.

The three-line inscription is modest yet elegant: 

Fortune! Here is the king’s serpent!
For the one who respects him, jewels will fall from the sky.
For the one who insults him, 1,000 years in hell for him and for seven generations for his family.

At first glance, two points are essential:

1. The inscription does not refer to Hindu gods as is usually the case in Sanskrit inscriptions, but to a local god, the king’s serpent. This local cult of the serpent (Naga), protective deities from the humid depths of the Earth, is found throughout Southeast Asia. Paul Mus clearly showed that the motif of the Buddha protected by a Naga is very common in Southeast Asian statuary, as depicted in Khmer art.

2. There are Sanskrit terms in the text, including nāga (serpent, dragon), naraka (hell), and svarggah (paradise). However, it mostly features terms from old Cham which have nothing to do with Sanskrit, such as urāng (person), putauv (king), and dengan (with).

The inscription also highlights a dichotomy between the global and the local. It would not have been auspicious to use Sanskrit, the language of the gods, to evoke the rustic nature of a local cult. For this, old Cham was much more appropriate. The syntax is indeed that of old Cham, and the vocabulary is essentially Cham with Sanskrit terms to render notions such as paradise and hell.

Let's dream!

In the 4th century AD, Cham was the first Southeast Asian language to be written with one of the alphabets used to write Sanskrit, a language which has no more linguistic connections with Cham than English does with Malay.

What is this Sanskrit script? Lovers of paradoxes will rejoice; the script used on the Sanskrit stele of Vo Canh, and subsequently on the Cham inscription of Dông Yên Châu, originated in South India. Where exactly in South India remains unknown. It is a sort of potpourri script that has borrowed a little from here, a little from there... In short, a script with no precise place of origin. As it must have a name, the two dynasties of South India, Pallava (275–897 AD) and Chalukya (543–753 AD), were combined to create the Pallava–Chalukya script.

Most Indian scriptures have a prototype called Brahmi. In its original form, the Brahmi script was used from the 3rd century BC to the 5th century AD. It finally disappeared after spawning nearly 20 different scripts to transcribe the languages of North and South India. The Pallava–Chalukya script is a variant of Southern Brahmi.

However, we have not yet unravelled the mystery. The considerable creativity of Hinduism nevertheless neglected writing. Hinduism always preferred recitations over written texts, and, as a result, created mnemonic systems of unprecedented inventiveness. There is even an old saying that “the written text is like money you have lent, you never have it at hand when you need it.”

To be clear, India never invented any script. There are two problems with the current trend of referring to “writing systems” from the Indus River Valley:

1. Is it a script? One system also mentions a set of seals.
2. Deciphering a script requires knowing the language it represents.

No language of the Indian subcontinent, past or present, can help decipher these signs.

We must therefore look towards the West for the origin of the Brahmi script. The Aramaic alphabet was formed around the 8th century BC, and the Arameans, their language, and script had a fascinating history. The Aramaic kingdoms disappeared in the 8th century BC, and its populations dispersed across the region to Assyria, Babylon, and Persia – making Aramaic and its script a true lingua franca throughout the Middle East, and even as far as India. Indeed, Jesus of Nazareth spoke Aramaic.

The Aramaic script itself was adapted from the Phoenician alphabet, which had been used for almost a millennium since the 10th century BC. Both alphabets – Phoenician and Aramaic – were used to create the Greek alphabet.

We can go back even further in time, because the Phoenician script derives from Proto-Sinaitic. The first fragments of inscriptions in Proto-Sinaitic, discovered in the Sinai Peninsula, date from the 19th century BCE. In turn, the Proto-Sinaitic script comes from a simplified version of Egyptian hieroglyphics – bringing us to the end of the chain.

Setting out from the shores of the Pacific, we trace the fascinating history of writing to finally reach Pharaonic Egypt, a journey of more than 20 centuries.

Jean-Michel Filippi.