ANDREW LAM - Pacific News Service
Editor's note: California's Vietnamese diaspora has re-created the Vietnamese village on the grounds of a temple in East Palo Alto, a small inner-city community bordering Silicon Valley. PNS editor Andrew Lam reports on the Thanh Cat temple and the monks and nuns who live there.
East Palo Alto - On a small in East Palo Alto, a city still notorious for its drive-by shootings, stands a distinctive two story Vietnamese Buddhist temple. A block away cars whiz up and down the Bayshore Freeway connecting the high-tech hubs of Silicon Valley. On the other side of the freeway lies affluent Palo Alto and Stanford University. Yet here every so often, one hears the soft reverberation of gongs and detect wafts of incense in the air.

It�s Sunday and the temple grounds are full of worshippers. The scene is reminiscent of the Vietnamese villages of my childhood. A few girls are jumping rope on a cement courtyard while elderly women gossip about their grandchildren. On a wooden bench outside the cafeteria where vegetarian food is served, a young woman and a young man discuss their educational prospects over lunch. Their parents had introduced the two after the sermon.

"The temple is more than a place of worship," says Mrs. Luong Nguyen, who insists that I eat the vegetarian food since it�s good karma. "We come here to feel anchored. We share news about our lives and we support each other." Then, eyeing the young couple chatting happily a few feet away, she whispers, "and if possible, we get our children married."

Built in 1983, Thanh Cat temple serves not just as a place of worship and a monastery but as the headquarters of the Vietnamese Buddhists of America, an organization that includes some one hundred Vietnamese Buddhist temples scattered across the United States, wherever Vietnamese communities happen to be. According to its abbot, Thich Giac Minh, who came to the United States at the end of the Vietnam war and now heads the federation, the temple could have been built in 1979. "But the money we saved for construction all went to sponsoring boat people. That was more important, of course, than having a temple."

The abbot, a licensed acupuncturist, poured most of his earnings into refugee aid and temple construction. When enough boat people had settled in the area, they in turn donated their money and labor to finish the temple. The abbot, in his 70�s, now devotes full time to "the spiritual needs of my flock."

On any given week, Thanh Cat temple hosts a handful of abbots, most of whom received their training here before going on to establish their own temples elsewhere. Not everyone who joined the monastery becomes a monk, notes abbot Thich Giac Minh. "There are many challenges. We accept anyone who is willing to join, but to stay is another matter."

Abbot Thich Chan Minh, whose temple is in New Orleans, has returned to give the Qui Y ceremony, the Buddhist version of baptism, to a dozen Vietnamese. All are given new Buddhist names and certificates and the story of Buddha is retold as they sit on the floor cross-legged with bowed heads. "Buddha is not out here but in each of you," says abbot Thich Chan Minh, "so be kind to one another, be kind to your husband, to your wife, to your children, because when you are cruel to one another, you are cruel to Buddha."

Most of the monks and nuns (two nuns currently reside at the monastery) must support themselves and their temples by working at secular jobs. Abbot Thich Giac Phuoc, for example, a monk in his early thirties, runs a temple in Los Angeles while working full-time as a pharmacist. "It�s not an easy task, which is why I come back her for instructions and guidance whenever I can."

Abbott Thich Giac Hoang, an older monk who runs a temple in Washington, DC, worked for 12 years as a engineer and now devotes full time to the temple. "We all have to be practical in America," he comments matter-of-factly. "I am expecting to live on social security and the support I receive from disciples."

Mrs. Luong Nguyen Is one of those disciples who support the monks at the Thanh Cat temple and monastery. She attends sermons every Sunday and credits her three children�s careers (in electrical engineering and medicine) to the strong moral discipline they learned at the temple. "I am grateful. My husband helped build the temple, and I cook the vegetarian food."

Minh Hoang, a social worker in San Jose with a case load of 50 clients, says he goes to Kim Son temple in Watsonville to learn Zen meditation, to Duc Vien temple in San Jose to find solace, and to Thanh Cat temple "to feel part of the community."

Mr. Linh Tran, on the other hand, comes here to pray for his mother�s spirit. On the left wall in the main hall, where a 12-foot statue of Buddha sits in golden calmness, are hundreds of photographs of deceased Vietnamese. Relatives like Tran come to pray for their swift journey to nirvana.

On Vietnamese New Year (Tet) or Buddha�s birthday, the temple grounds draw over 2,000 says Lloyd Pham, a devout Buddhist and a professor at Meridian University in San Jose. "It gets so crowded that the Pentecostal church next door lets us borrow their parking lot."

I ask whether the temple has had any problems with local residents. "Everyone has been very receptive," Pham replies. "East Palo Alto has a reputation for crime but the temple reinforces the idea of peace and I think people respect that."

Outside I ask a young Hispanic who attends church next door what he thinks of the temple. "I never went inside but I know it�s the same as the church- a place to go with your family on Sunday to be together and hang out."