1. Legend of the water melon (dua hau)

Once upon a time, the sixth son of King Hung Vuong the Fifth named An-Tiem disobeyed the King's order and was exiled to a deserted island.

The Prince had to build his own shelter, dig a well for water, and fish and hunt animals for food. One day, he found a green fruit as big and round as a ball. He split the fruit into halves and found the inside of the fruit red. He dared not eat it because he was afraid it was poisonous.

Days passed and the dry and sunny season came. It was so hot that all the plants were dry and the well had no water left. One day An-Tiem was so tired and thirsty that he tasted the fruit He found out that it tasted delicious and quenched his thirst. He tried to grow the plant around his house then. Soon the whole island was covered with the green fruit.

An-Tiem carved the island's name and his own on some of the fruit and threw them into the sea. Later, seamen found the strange fruit with An-Tiem's name floating in the sea.

Soon, words about the fruit reached the continent and many merchants tried to find the way the island. This then turned the deserted island into a busy island. The island was now crowded. Many boats came and went. An-Tiem helped anyone who wanted settle on the island. Soon, news about that reach the King.

King Hung Vuong was very proud of having a son who was brave and strong enough to overcome difficulties without anyone's help. An-Tiem was immediately summoned back to the court. He brought his fruit with him to offer the King, his father. The King gave him his crown and An-Tiem became King Hung Vuong VI.

Since then the fruit which was called "dua hau" and has become the symbol of luck; people often offer it to relatives and friends as a New Year present. 1

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THE LEGEND OF PRINCESS LIEU HANH

Adapted by George F. Schultz

The events described in this legend are said to have taken place during the reign of the Emperor Le Anh Tong, who ruled over Dai Viet from 1556 to 1573.

Since the exiled princess was a daughter of Ngoc Hoang, the Emperor of Jade, supreme deity of the Taoists, we may suppose that the story is of Taoist inspiration.

The legend is sometimes entitled "The Exiled Fairy" since the celestial princess was of course an immortal or fairy (tien).

One autumn night, the Emperor Le Anh Tong had a strange prophetic dream. Under the high ceiling of a vast hall, the supporting columns of which were made of the four precious stones he saw two rows of mandarins, arrayed in magnificent court dress, standing attentively. In the center of the hall, at the top of the nine steps, Ngoc Hoang, the Jade Emperor, dressed in a magnificent tunic embroidered with golden dragons, was seated on his throne.

A young maiden then entered the hall; as she walked toward, the pearls dangling from the sash at her waist tingled harmoniously. Standing near the steps leading up to the throne, she held in her hands a jade cup in which she offered Ngoc Hoang the Wine of Longevity. As the Jade Emperor learned forward to receive the cup, it fell from the maiden's grasp and crashed to the floor, breaking into a thousand pieces.

Immediately, a genie seated to the Jade Emperor's left was seen to open a large book and inscribe two characters therein. Two courtiers then conducted the unfortunate maiden towards a door over which was written in golden characters "EXILE BY IMPERIAL DECREE." This inscription was followed by the character for "south (nam)". It was evident that because of her carelessness in serving the Jade Emperor the maiden had been banished from the Celestial Empire and thenceforth would have to seek an existence on the dark, unfriendly Earth below.

Emperor Le Anh Tong awakened with a start. The palace was filled with a bright light, and the sweet smell of incense invaded his chamber. A courtier was kneeling on the phoenix-embroidered mat; when ordered to speak, he informed the emperor that during the night the empress had given birth to a princess. She was named Lieu Hanh.

As Princess Lieu Hanh grew to womanhood, she became famous throughout the Empire of Dai Viet for her perfect beauty. She preferred to live in a small palace at some distance from the court, which her father had been pleased to build for her there so that she might pursue her studies in quietude.

The princess loved to sit at the edge of a pool fringed with lotus blossoms, painting rustic landscapes or playing the lute or the flute. She would oftentimes compose verses in honor of the four seasons of the year, and these she would then sing to her own accompaniment.

As the pure tones of the maiden's lute floated through the soft air of the garden, the Emperor would go there to listen. Then he would be struck by a sad melancholy which seemed to penetrate to his very soul. He would frown as he spoke.

"Why must you play these sorrowful airs?" he would ask.

Having no answer for her father's question, Princess Lieu Hanh would remain silent.

When the Emperor decided that it was time for the princess to marry, he selected a handsome young mandarin named Dao Lang to be her husband. Although she seemed quite happy with married life, three years later the princess took sick and died.

After his wife's death, the mandarin was rarely seen at court. He spent most of his time in the princess's little palace, where he could sit at the edge of the lotus pool. He had kept a few locks of his wife's hair, which still retained the fragrance of her perfume. In the silent garden he seemed to hear again the pure tones of the lute of former times.

At the end of a year, as was the custom, Princess Lieu Hanh's coffin was opened so that her remains could be laid to rest in her permanent tomb. When the coffin was found to be empty, Dao Lang turned pale and was unable to speak or move.

The following day, the mandarin requested an audience with the Emperor and begged to be permitted to resign his position at court so that he might retire to his native village of Ton Huong, in Nghe An province. His resignation was accepted.

On Dao Lang's return to his native village, he again visited the sites dear to the Immortals. The rumble of the sea was heard beneath the purple slopes of Mt. Hoanh Son, the home of flocks of colorful herons. The little village of Ton Huong was backed against a hill covered with fragrant plants. Dao Lang was fond of strolling about under the tall trees, where he could listen to the murmur of a hidden spring that seemed to accompany his reveries.

One day, the young widower set off along a path shaded by century-old sophoras; it led to an old temple, the half-broken steps of which lay hidden under piles of dead leaves. On a branch he saw a piece of red paper on which were written some verses in old characters, their meaning unclear. For a moment he thought he detected footsteps on the soft moss; but he saw no one.

The following day, he returned to the temple and waited. There was a mysterious rustle in the silent woods; then a little puff of wind bearing a familiar fragrance met his steps as he moved forward. Suddenly he perceived the shadow of the loved one of yesteryear appear under the dark vault of the sophoras.

The princess's approach was signaled by the sound of the pearls dangling from the sash at her waist. When they met, she told her husband of her origin and of how she had come to be exiled to the Earth.

"The period of my exile has come to a close," she said, "but the magic peace of the garden and the lotus pond will remain with me forever. Today we have met again; however, no one can say how long we may be able to remain together."

In the shade of a mango tree, a son was born to the reunited couple; their happiness seemed complete. One evening, the princess played some old familiar melodies on the flute. The cold tones slipping from the instrument produced a feeling of nostalgia. When the last note had faded away, Dao Lang stood motionless, looking at the moonlight on a quiet bay.

From afar, as if from an unknown land, a serene melody rose through the air. Then it faded into space, although the effect seemed to remain. Lieu Hanh shuddered; laying aside the flute, she walked towards her husband.

"It is time to part again," she said simply. "Farewell."

Dao Lang gave no sign of comprehension. Slowly his wife receded towards he door and raised the curtain. The sound of her pearls tinkled harmoniously and then everything was silent.

Their son became a famous scholar.

Dao Lang erected a small altar under the sophoras in the sacred woods hat had witnessed his meeting with Princess Lieu Hanh. This altar is till to be seen in the vicinity of Ton Huong. 1

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The story of Truong's wife

Adapted by An Dinh Ton

The temple to Truong's wife is located on the side of the Hoang river, village of Vu dien, district Ly Nhan, province of Ha Nam. Here is her story.

She married a man of the Truong family. After a half a year, he was conscripted to go and fight a distant war. When he left, she was pregnant. She gave birth to boy, which she name Dan. During her husband absence, as she sat with her child, she would point to her shadow and would tell him that that was his father. After three years, her husband was released from service and came home. The boy by then could talk. When he called him, he replied:

You are also my dad? How can you talk now? My dad used to be silent. He came at night. He would sit when mom sat. He would move when mom moved.

The husband was struck by what his son has revealed to him. He became suspicious, then questioned his wife and did not believe when she denied having been with another man. He gave her such a hard time that in despair she jumped in the Hoang river to kill herself to prove her faithfulness.

Then one night, as he sat with his child, he pointed to the shadow of his father on the wall and said:

My dad has come back, see!

It finally struck the husband that his wife has used her shadow to provide the boy with as a surrogate father. As he came to recognize the injustice he did onto his wife, he built a altar on the river edge so that he can make offering to help free her soul. The people of the village subsequently built a temple in her honor. King Le Thanh Ton (1442 - 1497) on a tour of this province passed the temple and this inspired the following poem about her temple:

This column of incense smoke by the whirlpool

Is this the temple of the wife of Truong.

When the oil lamp is out, do not listen to the child,

Why the river to bring her misfortune.

Witnesses of her faithfulness are the sun and the moon

Why is it necessary to have an altar to redress the injustice

Passing by we learn the ins and outs of this story

Truong you have been too harsh!

King Le Thanh Ton reigned from 1460 to 1497. He was one of the enlightened King of the Early Le dynasty. He made political reforms and also was a patron of the arts. He founded the 'Tao dan nhi thap bat tu', the 28-star literary society, and was their leader. 1

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The dialog mount Na-Son

Adapted by George F. Schultz

The mountains of the province of Thanh Hoa, which are covered with dense forests for hundreds of miles, once served as an asylum for those hermits who chose to flee from the world in order to lead a life of meditation and solitude. At the beginning of the fifteenth century, an aged woodcutter was living on Mount Na-Son, in the district of Nong Cong. Daily he went to the village, where he would exchange his load of wood for wine and rice; he never found it necessary to save a single sapeque. When met by the farmers along the way, he would speak to them about the cultivation of their mulberry trees. When asked his name and origin, he would only smile. In the evening, when the sun had set below the tops of the mountains, the woodcutter would slowly return to the little hut that was his home.

One day, during a hunting expedition, King Ho Han Thuong happened to cross the woodcutter's path. The latter was walking along singing some verses of his own composition. The king stopped to listen.

"Na-Son has jagged rocks and dark trees.

I dress in leaves and adorn myself with orchids.

On all sides blue peaks surround my abode.

In the distance stretches the plain of green rice fields,

Far from the whirl of horses and chariots.

The world's dust does not touch these places.

The tall grasses efface every vestige of war.

The Earth buries the Court's decorations."

His song ended, the woodcutter arranged the flap of his tunic and disappeared in the forest.

The king was certain that he had encountered a sage and ordered one of his mandarins, Truong Cong by name, to invite the old man to his Court. The mandarin called to him, but the woodcutter was already deep in the forest. Truong Cong then set out to follow him.

The mist was already forming on the branches of the pines. Unused to the rugged terrain, Truong Cong had great difficulty in avoiding the vines and brambles that encumbered his path. The farther he advanced, the steeper the slope became. Greatly outdistanced by the woodcutter, the mandarin was soon lost in the unfamiliar surroundings. Raising his eyes, he saw that the shadows of the night had already invaded the mountains and that the trees had begun to blur. Somewhat uneasy, he would have liked to turn back; then a cock's crow from a neighboring bamboo thicket revived his hopes. At the thought that he must be near some human habitation, he raised himself on his stick and reached level ground.

The mandarin saw a small hut standing at the edge of a stream. Peach and plum trees with young, green trunks shaded its porch; here and there chrysanthemums were growing. Inside the hut he saw a rattan bed on which were lying a guitar, a flute, and a bamboo pillow. On the whitewashed walls, two songs were written in cursive characters: "Love of Chess" and "Love of the Summit".

The woodcutter was seated nearby, teaching a blackbird to speak. He appeared surprised to see Truong Cong.

"This corner of the world is lonely and deserted," he said. "Why did you take the trouble to climb up here?"

"I am a servitor of the king," replied Truong Cong. "Knowing that you are a sage, His Majesty sent me here to invite you to come to the Court. An escort awaits you at the edge of the forest."

"I am only an old man who has fled from the dust of the world", replied the woodcutter, smiling. "I earn my living with the ax, and my friends are the deer and the fish and the moon and the wind. I know only how to quench my thirst at the spring, how to prepare the roots of the forest for food, and how to sleep soundly amidst the mist."

The woodcutter then invited Truong Cong to remain with him and to partake of his modest meal of rice and vegetable. The two men conversed until far into the night without once referring to the affairs of State.

But the following morning, Truong Cong repeated his invitation.

"The famous hermits of olden times were not indifferent to the welfare of the State," he said. "In their retreats, they awaited the propitious hour at which to offer their services to the sovereign. For example, La Vong abandoned his line in the waters of the River Vi in order to serve King Chu Van Vuong. Although your knowledge is immense and your talent is great, you conceal yourself deep in the forest. I beg you to reconsider so that those who wish to bring happiness to mankind will not be deprived of your services."

"Every man has his own vocation," replied the woodcutter. "Nghiem Tu Lang declined Han Quang Vo's offer and refused to exchange his peaceful life on the banks of the Dong Thuy for the duties of prime minister at the Court; my slight merit could never be likened to his. Up to now, Heaven has been kind to me, and I desire no more happiness than that given to me in this verdant haven. If I were ambitious to tread the narrow road to honors, not only would I blush with shame for my failure to keep faith with the ancients, but I would also lose the friendship of the monkeys and the cranes. I beg you to return alone and not to insist further in this matter."

"Must you find every action in the present world contemptible?" asked Truong Cong. "Our monarch is great and men come from beyond the four seas to visit him. Chiem Thanh (Champa) has relinquished certain territories in order to be recognized as his vassal. The North (China) has sent gifts and has withdrawn its forces. Lao Oua and Dai Ly have likewise submitted to his will. He now lacks only the counsel of sages in order to glorify his virtue and to make his reign comparable to those of Duong Nghieu and Ngu Thuan of the Golden Age. If you sincerely desire to live apart from the world, I must respect your wish. But if you will think of the common weal, you will not let this opportunity slip from your hands."

"Your words do me too much honor," replied the woodcutter. Then he asked, "The present sovereign is of the Ho family isn't he?"

"That is correct."

"Did he not abandon Long Do in order to establish his capital at An Ton?"

"Yes, certainly."

"Although I have never set foot in the palace nor even in the capital," continued the woodcutter, "I have learned a great deal about the king. Lies, ambition, and luxury are the members of his entourage. He exhausted the people to build the Fortress of Kim Au. He emptied the national treasury to construct the walls of Hoa Nhai. Gold is thrown about like so much withered grass and jade, like dirt. Meanwhile, corruption buys titles and rank and opens the gates of the prisons. The masses are murmuring with dissent, and rebellion flares up on the bank of the River Day. The North has taken advantage of the situation to demand the cession of Loc Chau. The Court mandarins imitate the sovereign and become his accomplices in crime. That is why I fled from the world and concealed myself in the mountains and forests. Why should I return to drown in the tumultuous torrents of politics and thus throw the precious stone of Con Son into the flames?"

Unable to reply to these arguments, Truong Cong remained silent. He departed then and reported the woodcutter's words to King Ho Han Thuong. After a moment of anger, the monarch seemed delighted to receive an honest man's opinion. He ordered Truong Cong to supply himself with magnificent gifts for the sage and to go to his retreat a second time.

When the mandarin arrived at the summit, he saw that weeds and grass obstructed the approaches to the hermit's hut. On the stone wall, he noticed two verses that had been freshly brushed thereon with pine resin:

"At the mouth of the Ky La, poetic inspiration will be suddenly shattered; Beneath the summit of Cao Vong, misfortune will overtake the stranger."

No one understood the significance of these prophetic words.

When the king learned that the sage had vanished without a trace, he became furious and ordered his troops to set fire to his mountain. The trunks of the giant trees crackled in the heat, and the rising smoke obscured the horizon for many miles. A black crane was seen to leave the conflagration and trace great circles in the sky before disappearing in the direction of the sea.

Several years later (in 1407), the Minh (Chinese dynasty: Ming, 1368-1628) invaded Dai Ngu. The Ho armies lost battle after battle and were forced to retreat to the province of Nghe An. Ho Qui Ly was captured at the mouth of the Ky La River and his son Ho Han Thuong, on Mount Cao Vong; their last faithful followers fell at their side. In this way, the prediction contained in the couplet inscribed on the stone wall on the summit of Mount Na-Son came true.

The ephemeral Ho dynasty, which ruled Dai Ngu from 1400 to 1407, is not considered a legitimate dynasty by Vietnamese historians. Ho Qui Ly, the first Ho king, usurped the power in the year 1400. One year later, he assumed the title of thai-thuong-hoang (supreme emperor), and his son Ho Han Thuong became king.

Ho Qui Ly tried to maintain that he was a descendant of Ngu Thuan, one of the five legendary emperors of the Golden Age of Ancient China; therefore, he changed the name of Dai Viet to Dai Ngu. He was no ordinary man; but as an usurper, he did not have the support of the people and failed in his effort to establish a lasting dynasty.

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The golden ax

Adapted by George F. Schultz

There was once a very poor man who lived near the forest. He was able to earn enough for a bare existence by cutting firewood, which his wife would barter for rice in the market place.

One day, when this man was cutting wood at the river's edge, the ax slipped from his hands and fell into the water. Although the woodcutter searched for it everywhere, it was not to be found. Discouraged, he sat down on the bank, lowered his head sadly, and wondered how he would be able to earn a living in the future. When the man raised his eyes again, he saw a little old man standing in front of him. The newcomer asked the woodcutter the reason for his unhappiness. The latter described what had happened and added that the lost ax had been his most valuable possession. Only with it would he be able to earn his daily rice.

"I am the dragon of this river," said the old man sympathetically, "and I am going to help you. If you will wait here for a minute, I will recover your ax for you."

With these words the old man plunged into the water. A few moments later, he reappeared, holding a golden ax in his hand.

"Is this your ax?" he asked.

"No," replied the woodcutter, "that is not mine. My ax was made of iron and had a wooden handle."

The river-dragon plunged into the water again and then emerged holding aloft a silver ax.

"Is this ax yours?" he asked.

Again the honest woodcutter replied in the negative.

The dragon then submerged for a third time. When he reappeared, he was holding a very ordinary iron ax in his hand.

"Is this your ax?" he asked the woodcutter.

"Yes," came the reply, "that is mine, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your assistance."

"You are an honest man," said the river-dragon then. "For that reason, in addition to this iron ax, I am going to give you one of silver and one of gold as well."

It was difficult for the simple woodcutter to find words with which to thank his benefactor. He picked up the three axes and returned to his cottage.

The evidence of all this new wealth soon aroused the speculation of the woodcutter's neighbors. With the exception of one man, however, they all wished him well.

This man was full of envy and was greatly desirous of obtaining for himself a golden or silver ax. From the woodcutter he obtained an exact description of the place on the river bank where the miraculous event had taken place. The greedy man then found an old, rusty ax and went there with it. He threw the iron ax into the water and pretended to be greatly troubled because of its loss.

The little old man appeared before the man and asked the cause of his trouble. Falsely the man described his loss and begged for the old man's assistance.

"You shall receive justice," was the reply. Thereupon, the old man plunged into the river and reappeared with a golden ax in his hand.

Before the dragon even had time to ask the question, the man shouted, "That's my ax. Give it to me at once."

"You are lying," replied the dragon angrily. Raising the ax high in the air, he struck the liar a blow on the neck, killing him instantly.

Since that time, no one has ever tried to obtain a golden ax or even a silver one from the river-dragon's hoard.

==

Note. This story is probably of Buddhist inspiration but Confucianists would also approve of its moral: Greed is indicted and punished; honesty is rewarded. It also illustrates Vietnamese belief in the supernatural river-dragon, a generally beneficent creature, who is said to inhabit the depths of every stream and to be able to assume human shape at will.

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CHU DONG-TU and princess TIEN DUNG

Adapted by George F. Schultz

The legend that follows is one of the oldest of Vietnam, reputedly going back to the early years of the semi-legendary Hong Bang dynasty. It is probably of Taoist inspiration and affirms a belief in genie and immortals.

The third King Hung Vuong had a beautiful daughter named Tien-Dung (Divine Beauty), who, although of fairy-like loveliness, was endowed with a whimsical nature. Despite her father's entreaties, she rejected every offer of marriage, preferring, as she said, to remain single in order to satisfy her passion for visiting the many beautiful sites of her father's kingdom, known as Van Lang. As the king loved his daughter tenderly, he tried to please her in every way possible, even placing at her disposal a number of vessels including the royal barge, so that she could navigate the rivers of the realm.

At that time, in the village of Chu Xa (Hung Yen province), lived Chu Cu-Van and his son Chu Dong-Tu (Marsh Boy). They were poor fishermen whose home had been ruined by fire. They had lost all their clothing except a single loincloth, which they took turns wearing. When Chu Cu-Van fell seriously ill and felt death approaching, he called his son to the side of his mat.

"After my death," he said, "keep this loincloth for thyself."

But Chu Dong-Tu was a pious son and could not let his old father be buried without shroud. He attended the funeral in borrowed clothes and then found himself without a garment of any kind. The poor young fisherman was obliged to do his fishing at night. During the day he would attempt to sell his catch to the people in the boats passing along the river, remaining immersed in the water up to his waist. One day, Princess Tien Dung, then in her twentieth year, accompanied by a brilliant suite, happened to approach the very place where Chu Dong-Tu was standing in the water. When the young fisherman heard the sound of gongs and bells and perceived the wonderful array of parasols and banners, he became frightened and took cover behind some bulrushes. Then he quickly dug a hole in the sand and covered himself so completely that only his nose was exposed.

Taking a liking to the picturesque surroundings, the princess expressed a desire to bathe there. A tent was set up on the shore. The princess entered, disrobed, and began to pour water over her head and shoulders. As the water trickled to the ground, it washed away some of the sand, exposing Chu Dong-Tu in all his nakedness.

"Who are you?" asked the princess. "What are you doing here?"

"Your Royal Highness," replied the frightened youth, not daring to raise his eyes, "I am only a poor fisherman. Having no garment with which to clothe myself, I was forced to hide in the sand at the approach of the royal barge. Will you not pardon my error?"

Princess Tien Dung dressed in haste and threw a remnant of cloth to the young man so that he could cover himself. Then she questioned him in great detail about his past life. Hardship had not marred Chu Dong-Tu's handsome features, and the princess was not displeased with his demeanor. After some deliberation, she reached a decision.

"I had not expected to marry," she said with a sigh, "but Heaven has ordained this meeting. I cannot oppose Heaven's Will." She immediately ordered all her officers and ladies to come forward. When they had assembled, she told them of the extraordinary adventure that had just befallen her. Then she announced that it was her intention to marry the young man.

"But Your Royal Highness," cried Chu Dong-Tu on hearing these words, "how can I, a penniless fisherman, be the husband of a royal princess?"

"It has been predestined," replied the young woman; "therefore, there can be no reservations about the matter."

"Long live Their Royal Highnesses." cried the officers and ladies in chorus.

Chu Dong-Tu was properly clothed and groomed and the royal wedding took place that same evening with great pomp. But when King Hung-Vuong learned of it, he became furious and shouted angrily at his courtiers.

"In marrying a vagabond," he said, "Tien Dung has dishonored her rank of royal princess. She is to be disinherited and forever banned from my court." The princess had no desire to face her father's wrath. In order to provide for her husband and herself, she decided to go into business. She sold her junks and her jewels, bought some land at a crossroads near the village of Chu Xa, and established a trading post. Visited by merchant vessels from the entire kingdom of Van Lang and from countries overseas as well, the village prospered and in time became a great emporium.

One day, a foreign merchant advised the princess to send an agent across the sea to purchase some rare merchandise that could then be sold at a tenfold profit. Chu Dong-Tu was charged with this mission and together with the foreign merchant left by sea. On reaching the island of Quynh Vien, they met a Taoist priest who immediately recognized the sign of immortality on Chu Dong-Tu's forehead. The former fisherman then entrusted his gold to the foreign merchant and remained on the island for one year in order to be initiated into the secrets of the Way (Dao).

On the day of Chu Dong-Tu's departure, the priest gave his disciple a pilgrim's staff and a conical hat made of palm leaves. He advised him never to be without them.

"This staff will give you support," he said, "but it is worth much more. The hat will protect you from the rain and also from harm. Both have supernatural power."

On returning to Chu Xa, Chu Dong-Tu converted his wife to Taoism. They repented their earthly sins, abandoned their possessions, and left in search of a deserted place, where they would be able to devote themselves entirely to a study of the True Doctrine.

All day they stumbled on through the wilds and at last fell to the earth exhausted. But before lying down to sleep, Chu Dong-Tu planted his staff in the ground and on it hung the conical hat.

The couple had been asleep only a few moments before being awakened by a crash of thunder. They sat up between flashes of lightning and saw a magic citadel suddenly rise from the earth. It was complete with jade-and-emerald palaces, public buildings, and houses for the inhabitants. Mandarins, both civil and military, courtiers, soldiers, and servants came forward to welcome them to the city, begging them to rule over the new kingdom. Chu Dong-Tu and his wife entered their palace and began a reign of peace and prosperity.

When King Hung-Vuong learned of the existence of the magic citadel, he thought that his daughter had rebelled against his authority and was desirous of founding a new dynasty. He assembled an army and ordered his generals to destroy the rival kingdom. The people of the citadel urged the princess to give them weapons so that they might defend her territory.

"No," she said, "I do not intend to defend this citadel by force of arms. Heaven created it and Heaven has sent my father's army against it. In any case, how can a daughter oppose her father's will? I must submit to the inevitable."

That evening King Hung-Vuong's army camped on the bank of the river opposite the magic citadel. His generals planned to attack the following morning. But at midnight a terrible storm arose and the entire citadel with all its inhabitants was seen to rise into the air and disappear. The next morning the royal army found only a marshy pond and a sandy beach at its former sight. The pond received the name of Dam Nhat Da, which means "Pond Formed in One Night", the beach was called "Spontaneous Beach", or Bai Tu-Nhien.

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The legend of CHU VAN DICH

Adapted by George F. Schultz

This story, which is obviously of Buddhist inspiration, is a lesson in honesty. A poor farmer dies before he can pay off his debts; he returns to life as a water buffalo and works hard in order to take care of his obligations. The creditor also conducts himself honestly in returning the canceled notes to the debtor's sons.

Many years ago, a peasant was driving a water buffalo before the plow in his master's rice field. "Van Dich! Van Dich!" he called exhortingly. "Move along; it is almost noon. A few more furrows and our work will be finished".

Two handsome young men, who were walking along the path that bordered the rice-field, happened to overhear the peasant's words. They stopped in their tracks and looked at each other with astonishment. To whom was the peasant speaking? There was no other person in the field with him. Was it possible that he had called the buffalo by a man's name? It was all very strange.

The last furrow was plowed.

"Van Dich," said the peasant to the buffalo then, "you did a good job. It is time to rest."

The peasant wiped the sweat beats from his brow and then unharnessed the buffalo. The great beast plodded to the edge of the field to graze. The peasant drank some tea from a bowl and munched a few mouthfuls of rice; then, to protect himself from the unbearable heat, he removed his conical hat of palm-straw and began to fan his face with it. Absorbed in his own thoughts, he failed to notice the approach of the two strangers.

"Dear friend," one of. them called to the peasant, "is your buffalo perchance named Van Dich?"

"Yes", replied the peasant, "that is his name. Does it seem odd to you?"

"Very odd," was the reply. "Why did you give him that name?" The farmer considered for a moment.

"Well," he said then, "you are not the first ones who have asked that question. There is an unusual story connected with this buffalo. You see, my master is a wealthy landowner. I have worked for him for a long time and always with this buffalo. I call him Van Dich because he was born with that name as you can plainly see from the two characters inscribed on his hack. He is the cleverest and most industrious buffalo I have ever seen."

The two young men, who were brothers, looked at each other significantly. They thanked the peasant for the information given them and then set off in the direction of the neighboring village.

"Younger brother," said the elder of the two, "how strange all this is. After an absence of many years, we are returning to our native village, which we left as children. I am ashamed to learn that a buffalo has been given our father's name. We must speak to the buffalo's owner about it."

On reaching the village, the two young men inquired about the location of the rich landowner's home. They went there then and knocked at the door. As they were well-dressed and did not look like beggars, they were admitted at once. Tea was served them and water-pipes brought forward. Finally, after a period of polite silence, the elder brother asked the master of the house, an old man with snow-white hair, to tell them about the buffalo called Van Dich.

The old man seemed surprised at their question but not unwilling to tell the story.

"I come from this village," he said. "I started as an ordinary farmer. Heaven was kind to me and my wealth increased from year to year. I acquired large holdings of land. I became richer and richer and many peasants came to work for me. My young neighbor, however, a farmer named Chu Van Dich, had no luck at all although he was an honest and righteous man. One misfortune after another happened to him, and in the end he had no more than a few crumbs of rice for his wife and two sons. He came to me to borrow some money. I gave him what he needed since I was certain that the money would bear good interest. For some time his luck seemed to change; but then his wife fell ill and his two buffaloes died in the same night. A farmer cannot live without a buffalo. I lent him some more money, with which he purchased a new buffalo. But after he had brought in a good harvest and seemed to have saved himself., a fire destroyed his house and all his grain. Chu Van Dich died then from sheer despair. His wife and children left the village and it appeared that I had lost a considerable sum of money."

The two brothers hardly dared breathe. They had just heard the story of their father's ruin.

"Several years ago," continued the landowner, "Chu Van Dich appeared to me in a dream. He was in a pitiable condition. He said that as he had not been able to pay his debts to me during his earthly existence, his soul had been unable to find peace in the Kingdom of the Bead. He said further that he would come to work for me in order to pay off his debt."

The old man stopped to sip his tea. The brothers held their faces in their hands.

"The next morning," he continued, "before I had risen, a servant came running and informed me that a buffalo cow had given birth to a calf that had the characters "Van Dich" imprinted on his back. Was I not to assume then that Chu Van Dich's soul had passed into the calf's body?"

After a long silence, the two brothers raised their heads.

"Chu Van Dich was our father," they said. "After his death, our mother left the village, taking us with her. In a distant province, Lord Buddha had compassion on us and we became well-to-do. we have come here to pay our father's debts. And then you will of course give us the buffalo."

"You owe me nothing," replied the landowner. "I will gladly give you all your father's notes for he has amply repaid me through the work of the buffalo. Ever since the time that he began working for me, we have had a large measure of good fortune. We took good care of him, which was as it should have been, and I am sorry to see him go."

The landowner then gave the brothers their father's notes and ordered the buffalo released to them. After thanking the man for his generosity, they returned to the village, leading the buffalo. There they burned the notes; at that moment the buffalo was seen to fall to the ground dead!

Chu Van Dich's soul thus returned to the Kingdom of the Dead, where it would live eternally in peace. 1

Views: 4769

The golden star fruit tree

Once upon a time, there was a very rich man who lived in a village. When he died, he left his two sons a huge fortune. But the two brothers were entirely different. The elder was greedy, but the younger was very kind. So after the parents' death, the elder claimed the fortune and left his younger brother only star fruit tree. (A very productive tree that gives sour fruit.) The younger brother took good care of his tree, watering it every day and hoping that it would give him a lot of fruit so that he could make a living by selling it. The elder brother, on the other hand, was so happy with his inheritance that he had nothing to worry about.

Unfortunately for the younger brother, when the fruit was ripe, a raven flew by and stopped in the tree to eat it. He was very sad to see this happen every day, but he did not know what to do. So one day, he decided to stand beneath the tree an speak to the raven: "Raven, please don't eat my fruit." he called. "This fruit tree is my only fortune. If you eat the fruit, my family will starve."

"Don't worry," the raven answered. "I'll pay you back in gold. Go and make yourself a bag 60 centimeters long to keep the gold."

Hearing those words, he was very excited and told his wife to make a bag of 60 centimeters. The next day, the raven came as he had promised. He landed by the gate, let the younger brother sit on his back, and took off for a place filled with gold. There the younger brother filled the bag with gold. Then he flew back home on the raven's back. And so he became very rich. But he still loved and respected his elder brother.

So one day he told his wife to prepare a good meal for his brother and his family. But when he invited his brother, the latter refused to come at first. The brother only accepted after he had begged him again and again. When the older brother arrived at his house, he was surprised to see it all changed. It was no longer the poor house that he had seen before. So he asked his younger brother the reason. The latter told him everything that happened. After he heard it all, he offered to trade all his fortune for the fruit-tree. The kind brother gladly accepted the offer.

The raven came as usual. The greedy brother spoke to the raven the same words as his brother and received the same answer from the raven. But he was so greedy that he made a much larger bag instead of a 60 centimeter bag. The next day, the raven came to take him to place of gold. After he had filled the bag, he filled all his pockets, too, before he climbed onto the raven's back to go home. But the load was so heavy that when they flew over the sea, the raven tilted his tired wings and dropped him off into the sea. His wife and younger brother waited and waited but did not see him come back. So they decided to ask the raven and learn all the facts. 1

Views: 5655

The story of LUU-BINH and DUONG-LE

By Tran Van Dien

Long ago there were two very close friends. One named Luu-Binh, came from a wealthy family; the other, named Duong-Le, came from a pool family.

Knowing that Duong-Le did not have enough money to study, Luu-Binh kindly invited him to come and live with him to help him. Conscious of his poverty, Duong-Le was hard working and industrious while Luu-Binh, satisfied with his wealth, was wasteful and lazy. As expected, when the final examination arrived Luu-Binh failed while Duong-Le succeeded. He then became a high-ranking official and lived comfortably in a big house in the capital.

Luu-Binh went on with his idle, wasteful and extravagant way of life. Soon he had squandered all his fortune and was still not graduated. Reduced to bare poverty, Luu-Binh then remembered his old friend, now a high ranking official. So he made the trip to the capital and called at Duong-Le's to ask for help. Duong-Le pretended to be cold and indifferent because he knew his friend too well. If he helped him at once he would be always lazy.

"You're not my friend. All my friends are rich and important people not poor and ignorant like you." he shouted at Luu-Binh contemptuously. He then called: "Guards! See the man out. Give him some leftover rice and salt!"

Ashamed and disappointed to see that his friend was not too proud to remember their lifelong friendship, Luu-Binh sadly returned to his village, determined to study hard so that he would one day erase this shame.

In the meantime Duong-Le told his beautiful third wife, Chau-Long to dress as a girl selling silk, to go to Luu-Binh's village, get acquainted with Luu-Binh and then propose to stay with him. She would be selling silk and supporting him while he was studying. She also promised that they would become husband and wife once he successfully completed his studies. Encouraged by that promise, Luu-Binh studied hard day and night. It was not long before the examination came again and Luu-Binh passed it. As soon as he heard the result he hurried home to share the good news with Chau-Long only to find that she had disappeared. Later on, Luu-Binh, too, was invited to serve as a high ranking official. But he did not forget the shame Duong-Le had caused him in the past. So he went to Duong-Le's to seek revenge. Duong-Le treated him completely differently when he arrived. This time he greeted him with open arms. He did not mind his friend's harsh words. Patiently waiting for his friend to calm down, Duong-Le then called his wife Chau-Long out to introduce her to his friend. Only then did Luu-Binh realize that Duong-Le, a true friend, had really helped him complete his studies. Both friends ran to each other and hugged each other tightly. 1

Views: 7519

The Magic Crossbow

Adapted by An Dinh Ton

After ending the Hung Vuong dynasty, King An Duong Vuong unified the two countries of Au Viet and Lac Viet (some books have said Ba Th�c and Van Lang. Van Lang is Lac Viet. Ba Th�c is probably incorrect because it too far north! An Duong Vuong is probably a descendant of the Ba Th�c royal family and was known as Th�c Ph�n An Duong Vuong) into a single country that he named Au Lac. An Duong Vuong settled in Phong Khe (now in the district of Dong Anh, province of Phuc Yen). In 225 BC he decided to build the spiral-shaped fortress of Co Loa.

However each time they were just about to complete the walls of the fortress, they crumble. The King set up an altar, fasted (an chay - went on a vegetarian diet to purify oneself) for three months to appeal to the Heavens. On the 7th of March, an old man appeared at the Western gate and commented:

"The fortress will never be finished!"

The King invited him to his court, bowed himself and in tears asked:

"Each time I almost finish this fortress it falls down. This is proving very costly to my people. Can you give me an explanation?"

The old man replied:

"You will need the help of the Thanh Giang (Blue River) angel. Only he can help you finish this fortress."

Then the old man bid his good-byes.

The next morning the King went to the East gate. Suddenly he saw a golden turtle emerge from the water in the sunrise direction. The turtle said:

"I am the Thanh Giang angel. I am all knowing."

The King was very happy because this fulfilled the prophecy of the old man yesterday. He had a golden chariot transport this honored guest to his court. He asked him about the reason for the fortress falling down. The turtle replied:

"The spirits of the mountain and the river in this area have been subverted by the departed spirits of the Hung Vuong descendants to take revenge on their loss of their kingdom. There is also a thousand year old white rooster that has been transformed into an evil spirit that now inhibits the That Dieu mountain. The ghost of a musician that was buried in these mountains, is also haunting it. By the side of the mountain, there is a small inn, whose owner, Ngo Khong, has a daughter and a white rooster. They are the evil spirits haunting these mountains. Each night they will reveal themselves under their evil forms and kill travelers. You need to catch the white rooster and the daughter of the inn owner, kill them both. Only then will the evil spirits be done with.

However, before these evil spirits disappear, they will draft a petition to the Heavens to destroy the fortress. An owl will be used to transmit the petition. I will bite the owl and it will drop the petition for you to catch. Then that will be the end of these spirits and you can finish your fortress."

The turtle then instructed the King to disguise himself as a traveler and go to the inn and ask to stay the night. The King followed the instruction and came to the door of the inn. He put the turtle on top of the entrance. The inn owner Ngo Khong told him:

"These parts are haunted. These evil spirits kill travelers. So, please move on while the sun is still up."

The King smiled and replied:

"Life and death are one's destiny. Ghosts cannot change my destiny. I am not afraid."

Then he spent the night there. The night came and the evil spirits came to the door of his cabin and called out:

"Whoever is in there, open the door immediately!"

The golden turtle shouted back:

"The door is locked. I dare you to come in!"

The evil spirits used fires and other means to try to break down the door but they were unsuccessful thanks to the magic of the golden turtle. When the rooster crowed, the spirits retreated. In the morning the inn owner brought an undertaker with him. He was very surprised to find his guest alive and laughing. He prostrated himself and said:

"You must be an angel. Please use your magic to deliver us from these evil spirits."

The King said:

"You must kill the white rooster to destroy the evil spirits."

As Ngo Khong killed the white rooster, his daughter also fell dead. The King had his people dig up Mount That Dieu. They found an old music instrument and a skeleton. They incinerated everything and threw the ashes in the river.

At sunset, the King and the turtle went up Mount Viet Thuong. They saw the evil spirits transforming themselves into an owl up the big teak tree with a petition in its beak. The turtle transformed itself into a mouse and rushed after the owl up in the tree. The mouse bit the owl, which dropped the petition. The King picked up the petition and ripped it to shreds.

From then on the evil spirits were finished. The fortress was finished in less than a month. Its perimeter was over ten thousand feet, in the shape of a snail, thus its name Loa Thanh.

After three years, the golden turtle bid his farewell. The King asked:

"Thanks to you I have been able to complete my fortress. Do you have any strategy for dealing with foreign invaders ?"

The turtle replied:

"The fate of a nation is in the hands of Heaven. Only the virtuous can hold onto his kingdom for long. But since you asked, let me give you this to help you."

The turtle then gave the King one of his claws and said:

"Use this claw in a crossbow. You will have nothing to fear from any invader."

The King had Cao Lo build a crossbow with the claw as the trigger.

A few years passed. Trieu Da (a general of Tan Thuy Hoang who decided to move south to strike out on his own) decided to invade. The King took out his magic crossbow and took a shot at the enemy. In one shot he killed thousands of the enemy. Trieu Da retreated to the Trau Son mountain range. He learned about the magic crossbow of An Duong Vuong. So, he had his ambassadors sue for peace. The King was very happy to let Trieu Da govern the land to the north of the Tieu Giang (small river).

Shortly after, Trieu Da sent his son, Trong Thuy, to the King's court to ask for the hand of Princess Me ChAu. The King approved and Trong Thuy came to live at the King's court.

Trong Thuy asked My Chau to let him have a look at the magic crossbow. He substituted the magic trigger with a fake one. After this devious trick, Trong Thuy asked for permission to go back and visit his parents. Before he left, he told My Chau:

"Our love is immense but I cannot forget my duties with my father. As I am about to go back to my father I am worried that should there be a conflict between our parents, we will be separated, me in the North and you in the South. When I am able to come back and look for you, how can I find you?"

She replied:

"I am only a helpless woman. However I have this goose down blanket that I keep with me all the time. In the unlikely event I have to leave the palace, I will drop goose feathers at crossroads so you can follow me."

Trong Thuy bid his farewells and took the magic claw with him back to his father. Trieu Da was very happy and raised his army for a sudden attack.

When he heard the news, the King calmly continued his chess game and said:

"Didn't Trieu Da learned his lesson from my magic crossbow?"

When Trieu Da's army arrived at the gate of his fortress, the King took out his magic crossbow and fired at the invader. But nothing happened! The unprepared army and the court just fled in panic.

The King had to flee on a horse in the southern direction. When he reached the seashore, there was no ship in sight. In desperation he cried out:

"The gods cannot let me die. River angel, where are you! Please come to my rescue!"

The golden turtle emerged out of the water and shouted to the King: "The person on the back of your horse is your enemy. You must kill her before I would rescue you."

The King pulled out his sword and beheaded My Chau. Before she died she vowed:

"I am a female. If I have been unfaithful to you then let me turn into dust. If my faith has been constant and I have only been tricked then let me turn into a pearl so that this humiliation can be washed."

Her blood flowed down the ocean floor where oysters swallowed it and the blood transformed itself into pearls.

The golden turtle took the King below the waters and disappeared.

Trong Thuy with his pursuing troops following the goose feather trail arrived at the seashore shortly after. He only found the body of My Chau. In grief he took it back to Loa Thanh where he buried her. The grave became a deep well with crystal clear water. Trong Thuy fell sick from grief and in a moment of despair he jumped down the well to kill himself.

Legend has it that if one were to wash a pearl from the eastern sea (South China Sea) with water from this well, its brilliance will increase tenfold.

Views: 5398

Legend about Emperor LY THAI-TO

Adapted by George F. Schultz

Emperor Ly Thai-To[1], founder of the Ly dynasty (1010-1225), was of obscure origins. According to legend, he was fathered by a genie who violated his mother as she was on her way to the Tieu Son pagoda in the village of Co Phap (province of Bac Ninh). Being pregnant and unmarried, the woman was forced to leave her native village and for three years wandered about the country before reaching the pagoda of Ung Tam, where she entrusted her child to the care of the Superior, a bonze[2] named Ly Khanh Van. In the version that follows, however, the mother gives birth and dies at the gates of the pagoda.

One night, Ly Khanh Van, Superior of the Ung Tam pagoda dreamed that a genie had appeared to him in his sleep. "His Majesty the Emperor is waiting at your gates," said the genie. "Go forth and receive him."

When the Superior awakened in the early hours of the morning, he recalled the dream and went to the gates of the pagoda to investigate. There he found the body of a young woman who was already dead; at her side lay a newborn male child. The Superior gave the woman a decent burial and himself took charge of the child, whom he named Ly Cong Uan, adopting him as his own son.

As soon as the lines of the orphan's hands had formed, it was seen that they vaguely resembled the characters son ha (mountains and rivers) and xa tac (Genie of the Earth and Genie of the Harvests), which, taken together meant "empire".

Early in life, Ly Cong Uan showed that he was endowed with extraordinary intelligence. At six years of age he could read the prayer books as well as any bonze. But he was also somewhat mischievous and one day removed the fillings from the rice cakes destined for the altars and ate them. The Guardian Genie of the pagoda appeared in a dream to the Superior and told him about his adopted son's misbehavior. When Ly Khanh Van awoke, he verified the facts related in the dream and severely reprimanded the young rogue.

"But who told you about my misdeed, master?" he asked.

"The Guardian Genie, of course," was the reply.

Ly Cong Uan became very angry at the Genie and on the back of his statue wrote the following threat: "You are sentenced to exile at a distance of 3,000 leagues." That night the Genie again appeared to the Superior in a dream. "His Majesty the Emperor has just banished me from the pagoda," he said. "Farewell!"

On awakening the Superior examined the Genie's statue and discovered the judgment written on the back. In vain he tried to erase it. Then he sent for his son, who erased it easily, using only his spittle.

When Ly Cong Uan reached the age of nine, the Superior realized that he was incapable of teaching him further. Accordingly, he was enrolled in the school conducted by Van Hanh, a bonze who had the reputation of being the most learned scholar of his time. Under the tutelage of this wise master, Ly Cong Uan progressed rapidly, not only in theology but also in Confucian philosophy and military science.

One day, for having committed another of his pranks, the young student was ordered by his master to remain kneeling throughout the night. At the imposition of this punishment he improvised the following lines:

"In the deep night I dare not stretch my legs, For fear of upsetting mountains and rivers (the empire)."

When he read these bold lines, Van Hanh knew that his disciple had the stuff of which kings are made.

In recognition of his vast knowledge, Ly Cong Uan was named a court mandarin. When, at the age of twenty-three, Emperor Le Trung Tong was assassinated by his brother Le Long Dinh, Ly Cong Uan was the only person who had the courage to remain with the dead monarch and to weep over his body. Impressed by such loyalty, Le Long Dinh, who had succeeded his brother on the throne, respected him greatly and even entrusted him with the command of his personal guard.

In 1009, with the death of Le Long Dinh (known as Ngoa Trieu "the Reclining Emperor"), the Le dynasty came to an end and in the following year Ly Cong Uan was unanimously acclaimed emperor by the other court mandarins. His old tutor contributed to the preparation for his former disciple's succession by spreading prophecies among the people of a coming change of dynasty. On ascending the throne he took the reign name of Ly Thai-To.

In the seventh month of the first year of his reign (1010), Ly Thai-To moved the capital from Hoa Lu to La Thanh. On reaching the latter city, he saw in a dream a golden dragon rising in the air; therefore he changed the name of his future capital to Thang Long (Ascending Dragon). Today it is called Hanoi.

Since Ly Thai-To was a fervent Buddhist, the bonzes enjoyed many privileges during his reign. For example, in 1O18, public funds were used for the manufacture of their bells. Later, he sent an embassy to China to look for authentic Buddhist prayer books.

Ly Thai-To ruled for nineteen years and died in the year 1028 at the age of fifty-five.

Views: 2800

The legend of the Milky Way

By Tran Van Dien

Once upon a time there lived a very beautiful and charming princess, named Chuc-Nu. She was one of the many daughters of the King of Heaven. Chuc-Nu was a very hard-working lady and she was often seen sitting on the shore of the Silver River to sew clothes for her younger sisters.

One day a young man herded his buffaloes to the river. His name was Nguu-Lang. He was very handsome. He fell in love with the princess at first sight, and she loved him, too. The King of Heaven, fully aware of their love, consented for her daughter to marry Nguu-Lang. But the couple had to promise to continue their work after their marriage.

They enjoyed being married so much the forgot their promise. The King became furious and ordered them to separate. Each of them would live on one side of the river and could only look at each other from across the river. The King allowed them to meet once a year in the seventh month of the lunar year. This month is called "The Month of Sudden and Short Showers". When they meet each other, they usually cry for joy. They cry even more bitterly when it is time for separation.

That is why it rains torrentially at the beginning of the seventh lunar month in Vietnam. If you happen to be in the countryside during this month, you do not expect to find any ravens. They are believed to have flown to the sky to help carry the bridge across the river for the reunion of Chuc-Nu and Nguu-Lang and if you look at the sky on clear nights, you may see the Silver River which looks like a long milky white strip. Therefore, it is called "Ngan ha" (The Milky Way) .

Views: 4855

The sandalwood maiden

Adapted by George F. Schultz

In the forest near Nha Trang there once lived a poor couple who managed to keep body and soul together by gathering firewood and selling it in the village. Although the couple often sacrificed to the gods and constantly prayed for their favors, they had remained childless. But one evening, as he was returning home, the woodcutter came upon a small girl who had been abandoned in the forest. He took her into his arms and carried her home to his wife.

The good woman was overjoyed to have a child to love and cherish at last. In spite of their abject poverty, the couple gave the little girl every care and attention. They saw to it that she wanted for nothing and let her have her own way in everything. Sometimes it seemed to them that their daughter had very strange desires.

As the years passed by, the little girl turned into a beautiful young maiden. One day, she brought home a piece of sandalwood from which a very special aroma seemed to come forth; it was much more fragrant than any other variety of sandalwood. The maiden took very good care of her new possession and no one else was permitted to touch it.

Since their daughter was very well-behaved, the parents did not deny her this strange pleasure. A day came, however, when she informed them that she had been commanded to go to the Court of the Emperor of China, where she would marry his son, The woodcutter and his wife forbade their daughter to undertake this journey. But she continued to offer new proofs of Heaven's Will and pleaded incessantly for their permission.

Finally, wearied by the young woman's pleas, the parents offered no more opposition to her plans and with heavy hearts agreed to let her depart. The maiden said farewell and went immediately to the seacoast, where she threw her piece of sandalwood into the water. Borne northwards by the current, it reached the shores of China. As for the maiden, she vanished without a trace.

Shortly thereafter, on the China coast, a fisherman found a wonderful piece of sandalwood in his net. He realized that it must be of great value and at once took it to the Imperial Palace.

When the Emperor's son gazed on the piece of sandalwood, he was seized with an overwhelming desire to own the costly object. He begged his father so insistently that the latter finally let him have it. The crown prince then wrapped the sandalwood in a silken cloth and kept it near him in the palace.

During the night the silken cloth was seen to move. The crown prince looked at it wonderingly and then remove it. From beneath the cloth appeared a beautiful maiden. The prince's heart was filled with such love for her that he went at once to his father and begged permission to marry her. The Emperor gave his consent and the wedding of the woodcutter's daughter and the son of the Emperor of China was celebrated with all the customary pomp.

The young couple were very happy in their first weeks of wedded life. Then, one day, the young wife told her husband that she had promised to visit her foster parents and requested his permission to make the journey to her old home.

The prince did not want his beautiful wife to be away from his side for a single day, however, and refused to grant her permission to leave. Prayers and tears availed her nothing. The young woman then went to the seashore with her piece of sandalwood and hurled it into the water. Before her husband's very eyes, she immediately vanished into thin air.

A few days later, the woodcutter found a piece of sandalwood on the beach of Nha Trang. It was a sad remembrance of his lost daughter. But when he returned home and found that she herself was present there, joy reigned again in the little household.

The crown prince was furious at his wife's disappearance. He equipped a fleet and sailed south with it in order to search for her. Unfortunately for the prince, his mistrust had angered Ngoc Hoang, the Emperor of Jade, who rules Heaven and Earth. As soon as the prince's ship entered the harbor of Nha Trang, it was changed into a rock.

The sandalwood maiden remained in Nha Trang and did many good deeds in helping the sick and the poor. When she died, a temple was erected in her honor and all the people of the city, both Cham and Vietnamese, venerate her as their patroness.

Note: The "sandalwood maiden" of this legend is the goddess Po Ino Nagar(or simply Po Nagar), the Cham counterpart of the Hindu goddess Uma (or Parvati), Siva's sak-ti. Po Nagar is said to have created the Earth, rice and sandalwood.

The mention of Ngoc Hoang, the Jade Emperor, supreme divinity of Taoism, would make it appear that the version given here is of Taoist inspiration.

Views: 4456

The hundred-knot bamboo

There was a rich devious landowner who used all kind of tricks to exploit his servants and laborers. He had a beautiful nubile daughter . Khoai lived as a servant in this household from the time he was a young boy. He had to work very hard. He is now in his late teens. The landowner was afraid that Khoai will leave the household and thus he would lose a very hard working helper. So, one day he called Khoai and told him:

"If you stayed in the household and work hard day and night, I will give you my daughter in marriage."

Khoai believed the landowner and was very happy. He redoubled his efforts to win the heart of the landowner. Three years have passed. The daughter is now grown. In the region, there is this very wealthy village chief, who eyed the daughter for his son. So, the village chief came and ask for the hand of the daughter. The landowner agreed and set out to prepare for the wedding.

When Khoai realized that he has been taken advantage of, he was mad and went to the landowner to complain. He asked the landowner:

"You have promised your daughter to me. Why are you going back on your promise now?"

The landowner did not like to be addressed in such a manner. He was going to beat him, but taking another look at the young man, he dared not. He told him instead:

"My son, you are mistaken! My daughter is now of age and the preparation for the wedding that I am undertaking now is actually for you. However, if you want the wedding to take place, you must accomplish the following task. You need to find a bamboo with one hundred knots. Then you will need to cut it up into chopsticks for the wedding feast. That is my condition for giving you my daughter's hand in marriage."

Khoai again believed him and went up the forest in search of the bamboo with 100 knots. He searched for days on end and went from one end of the jungle to the other without success. In despair he sat down in the jungle and wept in despair.

Suddenly he saw an old cheery man with all white hair but with rosy complexion. The old man approached him and asked:

"Son, why are you so sad?'.

Khoai told him his story. The old man told him:

"Go and cut 100 stems of bamboo and bring them back here".

Khoai went out and brought back the bamboo that the old man asked. The old man then gave the command

"Stick together! Stick together" (Kha('c nha^.p)

The bamboo sticks that were lying here and there on the ground immediately came together all in a row to make a bamboo with 100 knots. Khoai was filled with joy. He wanted to thank the old man, but he has disappeared. He realized that he has met Buddha. He set out to bring the bamboo back. But there was no way for him to load this long bamboo on his shoulder. He kept on running into other trees. He sat down again in despair and wept. Immediately he saw the old man reappear. Buddha asked him:

"Why do you weep?"

He explained his situation. Buddha pointed at the bamboo and said

"Unstick! Unstick!" (Kha('c xua^'t).

and the bamboo came apart in 100 stems. And Buddha disappeared. Khoai tied up the 100 bamboo stems and proceeded to take them home.

When he arrived home, he found the two families preparing to feast in the courtyard. The village chief family has come for the wedding. Khoai was really mad and ran to the landowner to ask for an explanation. The landowner told him

"I asked you to get me a bamboo with 100 knots, not 100 stems of bamboo!"

Both family stopped their feasts and laughed derisively at Khoai, and joked about his naivety. Khoai told the landowner that he has the bamboo and the courtyard and the landowner should come out and examine it. As the landowner approached the pile of bamboo, Khoai said in a low voice "stick together! stick together!". Immediately the bamboo stems came together and the landowner was also stuck at the end of the bamboo. The landowner tried to pull himself away but failed. The future in-laws came to his rescue. Khoai waited until the village chief has touched the landowner before he said "stick together! stick together!". Immediately the village chief became stuck to the landowner. The same fate happened to the village chief's son. The more they tried to pull away, the harder and more painful they became stuck. Both families were now in panic. Nobody dared to pull the three men away any longer nor joked about Khoai. They lined up and asked him to pardon the 3 men stuck at the end of the bamboo.

Khoai had the landowner promise his daughter to him and the village chief has to agree not to seek vengeance. Then Khoai said "unstick! unstick!" and they all became free.

The village chief and his party quickly left the festivities. And Khoai moved into the bridegroom chair and the celebration continued!

Views: 5379

TET I971 IN VIETNAM

Saigon (MF) - When the clock strikes midnight on January 27th, the first day of the Vietnamese Lunar New Year, millions of Vietnamese will exchange toasts of good wishes for the coming year of the Hog.

The greetings are familiar and always concern the well-being of the family, the focal point of Vietnamese life. "May I wish you," so goes the toast to the head of the family, "nothing but prosperity in your endeavors. May you have a son at the beginning of this year and a daughter at the end. May your fortunes increase tenfold and may peace and happiness be with you and your family..."

"Tet Nguyen Dan" or the Vietnamese Lunar New Year, begins this year on midnight January 27th, I971 and the festivities will last three days. The traditional Vietnamese calendar runs in cycles of twelve years. A genie, in the form of an animal figure, dominates each year. They are, in the following order: Ty (mouse); Suu (buffalo); Dan (tiger); Mao (cat); Thin (dragon); Ty (snake); Ngo (horse); Mui (goat); Than (monkey); Dau (cock); Tuat (dog); and Hoi (hog). As the old year gives way to the new, the ruling genie quietly bows out to the next. This coming year will be the year of the Hog.

On Tet, the home is brightly lit and the family altar resplendent with flowers, fruits, cakes and sweets to welcome the new genie on this festive night. It used to be that firecrackers erupted on the exact moment of transition, as is the custom in many western countries. In Vietnam, they serve an additional purpose -- to chase out the evil spirit -- but since the infamous Tet attack of three years ago, the use of firecrackers was banned by the authorities.

At dawn, the family sits down to a banquet in honor of the ancestors to whom they pay their respects by ritual bows before the family shrine. When the meal is finished, it's time to dress in one's best fineries and meet the parents and grand-parents to wish them luck and happiness in the coming year. The youngsters especially look forward to this ceremony as each one of them receives a small sum of money wrapped in the traditional "red envelope".

It is an ancient belief in Vietnam that fortune or misfortune which occurs on New Year's Day sets the pattern for the rest of the year. The morning of Tet is of particular importance. The character of the first visitor to the home will leave his imprint on the family for the rest of the year. This ancient custom is called "Xong Nha". If the visitor is good, kind and honest, the family is in luck. But if he or she happens to be a rather shady type, the year is off to a bad start. It is not unusual in many homes to firmly lock the gates and wait until a few minutes after midnight to admit a favored friend as the "first guest in the New Year" who, in the meantime, has been walking around the block, waiting for his cue to make his "guest appearance".

Another important aspect of Tet is the family visit to the Pagoda or Church to pray for good fortune and happiness. The remainder of the holidays is filled with visits to friends and relatives, family games and just relaxation. In the countryside the ceremonies include a tilling event to insure a plentiful harvest after the spring planting.

Views: 3860

The Unicorn dance at Tet (Vietnamese New Year)

Saigon (MF): According to ancient Vietnamese history, the unicorn made its first appearance during the Duong Dynasty, about 600 AD (TT: this is the Chinese Imperial dynasty). Emperor Duong Cao To, after a military victory which resulted in his conquest of the Central Highlands, popularized the dance of the unicorn to celebrate peace. The unicorn, like the dragon, is a mythological animal and tradition has it that wherever a unicorn appears, people will have peace, happiness and prosperity. Originally the dance came from China where it is called the dragon dance, but in Vietnam it only became accepted after Emperor To's victory.

Today, there are two varieties of the Vietnamese version. In North Vietnam, it is called the Lion's dance and it is celebrated on the 15th day of the 8th month of the Lunar Year, sometime around autumn. In South Vietnam, the Unicorn dance is held only during the Tet holidays. The techniques are similar, although the traditional procession varies a little between the two zones. The North Vietnamese lion comes out at dusk and is accompanied by a group of youngsters with different shaped paper lanterns suspended on long poles. The lanterns take the shape of various animals like rabbits, dragons and fish or they may appear like multi-winged stars.

In South Vietnam, where the dances take place during the day and evening, many brightly colored square flags take the place of lanterns in the procession of the Southern unicorn. Leading this procession are the flag carriers. The flags are usually donated by merchants whose shops are visited to obtain annual donations which is the purpose of the undertaking. The Vietnamese believe that the unicorn is a symbol of wealth and prosperity and therefore they are generous in their donations to the unicorn dance teams. After the flags comes the unicorn. Big processions may have more than one. Then there is a mythical creature called "Dia" known by a moonlike face mask and a man carrying a pole which is topped with a round ball representing a piece of jade. At the tail end come the drums and cymbals, usually mounted on a cart which provide the loud and rhythmical accompaniment to the dance.

Several men take turns handling the unicorn. They wear tight uniforms of various colors which are often identified with a particular locality where the dance takes place. Each unicorn group covers a well-defined area and they do not trespass on each other's territory. In Saigon, the unicorn procession begins early in the morning on the first day of Tet. It systematically visits every home and shop in its area. As soon as it appears in front of a house, the place swarms with children and onlookers. First, the drums and cymbals sound a salute to the occupants of the house. The unicorn stoops down, bends its head several times before the entrance door, then steps back to repeat the same gesture five or six times before beginning the dance. The home owner or shopkeeper then presents his donations, but to make the event more difficult and exciting, he suspends his gift from the first story balcony or window from the end of a pole very similar to the bait on a fishing rod. To cope with this challenge, unicorn dancers are strong and agile people and must be good climbers. To get at the target, the unicorn must be elevated through a human pyramid to the height of the suspended gift or sometimes they get at it through the use of a one column ladder. All the while, the unicorn dances to the rhythm of the throbbing drums while the excited crowd below noisily shouts encouragement. The climax comes when the prize is "swallowed" in the unicorn's mouth and then slowly the group moves on the next house for another donation.

Views: 3700

The joy of "first writing of the new year" (khai but)

How far back are the origins of the first writing of the New Year tradition? Thousands of years, back into the antiquity of ancient China where the beauties of graceful calligraphy prompted man to seed in the written word not only the moral worth of the author but the external symbolization of his character within the disciplined beauty of his penmanship. How true is the old Vietnamese maxim, "Senseful ideas, beautiful hand-writing."

The "first writing of the New Year" is the most important. For each year is a completely new phase of life, a circle of destiny. What happened last year is forgotten; just as nature shrugs off the moldering leaves of winter, so does man. A new period is begun different, vital, promising. One's thoughts at this first moment must be noble and enriching.

True, many uneducated people buy quick poster calligraphy from fortune tellers at the pagoda rather than trust themselves to the ritual of the first writing. But I prefer to cast my own fortune with my own hand. Happiness, luck, joy, all may be mine during this New Year.

Ah, but that too is an ignoble thought for this occasion. On New Year's morn, one must rise above mundane things for beauty and honor go beyond self. That is the importance of a New Year, of the "first writing". No mere Phuc (fortune) or the usual "five happiness" calligraphy suffices for one's own home.

The first writing must be elegant, noble and beautiful. Such as the verses of famed female poet Ho Xuan Huong:

"On the last night of the old year doors should be closed tightly else Satan will bring in his devils,

"On the first day of the new year, the Creator opens wide the door for the Lady to welcome Spring."

I must elevate myself to a lofty plane and execute the writing with precision, clarity and strokes bold yet delicate, full-bodied yet sharply defined. It must be kept throughout the year in the Confucianism tradition.

What shall I write? It must be universal, something to set the mode of life for the coming year, to create the tone and temper of events for my family and my country.

Ah, I have it!

"Hoa Binh" -- Peace. How perfect!

Views: 3097

The Three Kitchen Gods

Adapted by George F. Schultz

There is a popular belief in Vietnam that Tao Quan, the Three Kitchen Gods, are present in the kitchen of every home. These gods observe everything that takes place there. At the end of the lunar year, on the twenty-third day of the twelfth month, they depart to make their report to Ngoc Hoang, the Jade Emperor, supreme divinity of the Taoist Heaven. On that day Tao Quan are offered the best of food and spices and are presented with gifts of money and clothing.

The idea of a threesome is unique to this story. More often the kitchen god or genie is described as a single person and may be called Ong Tao, Ong Lo or Ong Vua Bep.

Long, long ago, when Earth and Sky met in the Valley of Whispers, in the dense, green forest there lived a woodcutter and his wife. They were very poor and oftentimes the man was unable to earn enough to buy their food. Frustration and worry drove him to drink, and he would come staggering home at night in a vile mood. Since there was only his wife to listen to him in their ramshackle cottage, he poured out all manner of abuse on the poor woman. Because she was his wife, she had to accept it. Sometimes he would try to appease his rage by smashing the furniture; but when he took to beating her she could endure it no longer. One night, she fled the cottage and was never seen there again.

For days and weeks, the woman wandered in the forest. She was hungry and her feet were torn and bleeding. Finally, she came to a hunter's cabin. The owner was an honest man, who gave her food and permitted her to rest in his home. She kept house for him then, and after some time they were married. They lived together in great happiness, and it seemed that the woman had forgotten the terrors of her previous marriage.

One day, when Tet (Vietnamese New Year) was approaching and the hunter was out in the forest looking for game, a beggar knocked at the door of the cottage and asked for alms. He was clad in rags and his hair was matted and unkempt. The compassionate woman prepared a meal for the man; while he was eating, she suddenly recognized him as her former husband.

The beggar was still eating when the woman heard the steps of her returning husband. In her mind's eye she saw rapid end of her newfound happiness and became panic-stricken. Quickly she hid the beggar under a haycock .

The hunter had been very successful that day and was returning home with some excellent game. As soon as he entered the cottage, he prepared to roast it in the haycock quite unaware of the beggar's presence there.

When the beggar found himself ablaze, his first impulse was to cry out; then, fearing that the hunter might kill the woman on discovering him there, he remained silent.

As tongues of flame consumed the haycock, the poor woman was torn with grief. She realized of course that her former husband was meeting death for her sake and that she did not want. Hesitating for no longer than a moment, she threw herself into the fire in order to die with him.

The hunter cried out in dismay when he saw what his wife had done. He tried to pull her back but was unable to do so. Thinking that some act of his had driven her to such desperation, he too jumped into fire, preferring to die with her rather than to continue to live without her.

When the people learned of this touching story, they bowed their heads out of respect for the noble motives that had brought on the deaths of the woman and the two men. They were later acclaimed as Tao Quan, the Three Kitchen Gods.

Views: 2999

1971 THE YEAR OF THE PIG

By Van Ngan

Saigon (MF) January I, I971. Vietnam' s ever-active fortune tellers are now attempting to divine what lies ahead in the coming year, the last of the traditional I2-year cycle which will be known as the Year of the Pig. The pundits believe they see prosperity and possibly peace over the next year. The prophecy book of Trang Trinh, a much-quoted source of Vietnamese lore, declares that "The dog wags his tail to greet the master while the pig groans with satisfaction after a good meal." Thus the dog (I970) greeted signs of peace while the pig (197I) will be able to enjoy prosperity.

Despite the animal's poor reputation in other nations, the pig is much respected, in Vietnam, being a source of food for most people. Chicken is the other common meat, and nearby every farmer owns a sow or two with broods of piglets in times of prosperity. It is the pig who earns extra cash for the farmer with rice the main source of family support. A farmer wealthy in pigs not only observes religious feasts properly but has earnings to buy the finer things for his family. Piggy banks of ceramic and plastic are common in Vietnam as symbols and receptacles for savings. Pigs figure prominently in the ancient customs of the Vietnamese. At the Tet (New Year) festivities, pigs are slaughtered and eaten. Any special occasion is marked by the roasting of a pig, including the traditional meal for those who come to pay their last respects to the dead in post-funeral ceremonies.

At wedding ceremonies, the bridegroom's family must prepare a roasted pig festooned with paper flowers in its ears and bright red sash down its back to present to the bride's family. This marriage pig is carried before the wedding cortege by attendants in special attire. A pig, either whole or just its head and tail, is frequently offered to one's ancestors as a sign of respect and memory. The head is presented to the most important person, for example, to a village chief, while the tail goes to the second most important person. A traditional feast may have as many as eleven different recipes of pig: boiled, roasted, hammed, pasted, seasoned with rare and perfumed vegetables. Even tripe and coagulated pig's blood are used in exotically prepared recipes. Pork is considered nourishing. Mothers eat pig's feet with lotus grains and rice to improve baby milk and wives will fry hog testicles with vegetables or rice to stimulate their husbands. Working men enjoy blood coagulated with salt and served with heavily seasoned vegetables, believing it refreshes human blood and regulates digestion.

Vietnamese, as do other people, refer to obese persons and the over- sexed as pigs, but many fortune tellers claim persons with pig-like faces are harmless and sincere people. Tet New Year means a time of clearing up of debts and a balancing of accounts. It is the traditional time of year to set one's house in order and to prepare for the new year with a clean slate. Kitchens are cleaned and everyone attempts to start the new year with new clothing. For a nation at war for the past decade, may the Year of the Pig be a time of peace and prosperity for Vietnam.

Views: 2863

Vietnamese Mid-Autumn Festival

By Le Ba Thinh

There are many different legends connected with this festival -that it is the birthday of the moon; that the Old Man in the Moon (the matchmaker) ties together couples with invisible red thread; and that Miss Hang and Toad Circle journey back to their home on the moon, but it is a harvest celebration throughout Southeast Asia, and a time to admire the moon when it is at its fullest and brightest for the year. Tet (Lunar New Year) is an occasion for national merry-making: fireworks, traditional foods, visits to temples and pagodas, walks by the Lake of the Restored Sword on the Eve of Tet and visits to the Flower Market (Comb Street) near the crowded Dong-Xuan market. The Mid-Autumn Festival is a children's celebration in which the adults also join. Festival of the Moon, Moon cakes.

In the eighth month comes the Festival of the Moon, answering to the Harvest Festival in Western countries. What are called "moon cake" are sold at this season. If the year has been productive there will be a great deal of rejoicing. Presents are interchanged at this time as also at other festival seasons. As the moon becomes gradually full there appears in it to the Chinese eye a man who is climbing a tree. The full moon is greeted with much ceremony, and the night on which the luminary appears its brightest is passed in feasting and rejoicing.

Moon cakes or "mid-autumn cakes" are a mixture of fruit and other sweets wrapped up in a thin crust in the shape of a full moo, about two or three inches in diameter and a half-inch thick. According to a long established custom they must be exchanged with relatives and friends on the days preceding the Autumn festival. On the night of 15th, each family lights the four lanterns, hanging two on either side of the "The kong" incense pot, in the main hall of the residence. Two of three large lanterns bear the family name usually with the inscription "may boys increase", while the other two lanterns are in commemoration of the marriage of the mother and father of the family. The banner of the eight immortal is hung over the main hall, and the whole family comes together for a banquet. To the Vietnamese the full moon signifies completeness, the entire family gathered together in happiness.

This is a delightful festival for children and most pleasant for the adults to watch. Many weeks before the festival, bakers are busy making hundreds of thousands of moon cakes of sticky rice and filled with all kinds of unusual fillings such as peanuts, sugar, lotus seed. They are baked and sold in colorful boxes. Expensive ones in ornate boxes are presented as gifts.

On the night of festival, children form a procession and go through the street holding their lighted lanterns and performing the dances of the unicorn to accompaniment of drums and cymbals.

Regarding the moon, the Chinese have a legend relating to Miss Hang Nga and the "Immortality medicine". According to a book by Alice Stralen, during the Chinese Nghiêu dynasty, there lived a marksman by the name of Hau Nghe who never missed a target with his arrows. He was sent to earth by the Emperor of Heaven to rescue people from the sufferings. At that time, there were 10 suns shining upon the earth. As a result, the earth was suffering from severe radiation and drought, and all the crops were damaged. Utilizing his sharp shooting skill, Hau Nghe was able to shoot down 9 suns, and left only the present sun that we see today. Hau Nghe had a wife, Hang Nga, who wished to live long and remain beautiful forever. She urged Hau Nghe to ascend the mountain of Côn lôn to seek the immortality medicine from the Fair Queen of the Western Regions. Hau Nghe brought home that kind of medicine; she felt her body floating on air, and she flew away to the moon where a rabbit, a toad and a cinnamon tree were the only living creatures. This story explained why sometimes the moon is also called Miss Hang, Toad Circle, Cinnamon Circle and Jade Rabbit.

The Vietnamese have adapted these special Chinese customs to fit their culture and customs. Therefore, the picture of a carp chasing away the devil has become a carp looking at the moon, or a carp jumping over a windy and rainy gate. The Mid-Autumn evening was fresh, and the whole family felt happy in the bright moonlight. The long days of summer were over and the autumn winds were beginning to blow. Finally, the crickets began to sing their quiet song, and we felt a gentle melancholy.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

- Alice, Stalen. The Book of Holiday Around the World New York: E.P. Duntton, 1986

- Margaret, MacDonald. The Folklore of World Holidays. London: Gale, 1992.

- Ritu, Shalrma. Lands and and People of the World New Delhi: Sterling Publishers Private Limited, 1988.

Views: 3169

Traditional Vietnamese male attire

Saigon (MF): A revived interest in the national Vietnamese dress for men was demonstrated at an Lions International Club meeting held in Tokyo in 1969. The assembled Lions, along with thousands of Japanese observers on the streets and perhaps millions more at their television sets, were treated to a look at the Vietnamese national dress worn by the Vietnamese Lion delegates.

This was the first time Vietnamese men have worn their national dress at an international gathering since the fall of the late President Diem in November 1963. Before that time it was not unusual for Vietnamese diplomats to appear at official functions in their national attire. In Tokyo, however, the "fashion models" were private business men, delegates to the Lions meeting.

Anyone who has seen the exquisite costumes worn by Vietnamese women will recognize similarities in the traditional dress of the male. Both costumes are tailored from the same fabric, worn with the conventional snug collar and buttoned down on the left side to the waist, with no crease in front or back. The male dress extends only to the knees. The female dress flows with graceful lines from a tight waist down to the heels.

The national Vietnamese dress has preserved its essential features through the ages. Vietnamese take great pride in wearing this dress for it is part of their nation, their history and their culture. It is part of Vietnamese social customs which includes respect for superiors, dignitaries and relatives. Elders in the family continue to receive this recognition as did once emperors, mandarins and court teachers, all of whom had traditional dress variations according to their status in Vietnamese society.

There are many variations on the basic theme. At the top of the list is the elaborate dress of the emperor and the mandarins. Their rank was shown in the display of color in the brocade and embroideries. Gold brocade with embroidered dragons was for the emperor only. Gold is the national color and the dragon heads the fabulous mythical animal world. Purple is the color reserved for high-ranking court mandarins, while blue is for those of lower rank.

Costumes worn for religious ceremonies also have their special colors. Dresses for ceremonial occasions usually have very wide and ample sleeves. Wedding dresses are similar to the popular fashions, and the color is usually purple or blue brocade. Dresses for mourning have frayed fringes or a line up the back and may be either black or white in color.

Vietnamese dress styles underwent changes since the beginning of French influence in the country. Many Vietnamese employed by the French had a tendency to look down upon those who continued to wear the traditional dress. European styles were popular mainly among civil servants and university students. The majority of people, especially those in the rural areas, remained faithful to their national dress and it even became a symbol of silent opposition to French colonialism. During the colonial war against the French from I945 to I954, many people concealed their social status. The revolutionaries wore black, those who were pro-French wore western clothes while others wore the simple pajama-type shirt and trousers. Following independence the traditional dress came back into its own and was once again the required attire for all ranking officials at government ceremonies or functions of the diplomatic corps.

When President Diem was overthrown in 1963, the national dress was so closely identified with his administration that it sank with him into oblivion. This neglect, however, was not officially inspired but rather a reflection of political turmoil, frequent government changes and resulting chaos. Today, there is serious thought to restore the Vietnamese national dress for men to its traditional and rightful place, for it is a symbol of pride in the cultural heritage of an ancient and proud Asian land.

Views: 2902

Vietnamese hair style

In a popular Vietnamese folk song expressing the ten most striking features of a gracious and beautiful woman, long jet black hair is cited as being of first importance: "You are first loved for your hair which is tied in a cock's tail shape." There is good reason to place a Vietnamese woman's hair in first place. Long and flowing, smooth and very fine, it makes any woman, even one otherwise not attractive, appear feminine and graceful.

In ancient times when girls were raised in traditional customs and manners,their hair was nurtured and regarded as a symbol of correctness, kindness and virtue. "One's hair reveals one's origin," says an old proverb which fully expressed the importance people attached to hair, especially that of a young woman. No girl dared cut her hair, and. untied, it would reach her heels.

The hair of young women is a subject which has occupied a significant place in Vietnamese literature, poetry, and art.. "Her hair is silken threads of cloud, and her eyebrows crescent like moons and shadowed clouds on a quiet night," a poet of times past sang in reference to the hair of Vietnamese girls.

Times have changed since then, and today only a few girls allow their hair to grow long enough to reach their heels. Style changes have come in stages. A plaited braid was the first sign of change, followed by the "pony tail" when the hair was still long, but gathered behind the neck. Later women adopted the onion-shaped chignon with the hair wound behind the neck in a roll. Some Vietnamese women in the provinces still wear their hair in a chignon.

During the French period, western fashions penetrated Vietnam. Shortly before World War II, women in the cities married to Frenchmen; or working in French businesses began cuttings their hair and curling it into tight sausage curls with a curling iron. The curly style spread like an oil slick on water. Middle class girls disregarded public opinion and began wearing the little ringlets. The practice filtered down to the countryside, and after Vietnam was divided in 1954, hair curling shops had sprung up everywhere.

At the same time, there was a fad for dying hair. Jet black hair was tinted orange, red, and even blonde, generally with very unfortunate results. This fad was short-lived, and today few Vietnamese women change the shade of their hair.

Hairdressers are always happy to cut the waist length or longer hair of young girls. With the sudden popularity of wigs and hair pieces, the long thin strands command a high market price. However, once cut, the girl is faced with the problem of choosing a hair style. The possibilities are endless.

It now appears that hair styles are not only subject to change, but also to cycles. In Saigon at the present time, long hair is making a comeback. The gracefulness of long hair seems to have an attraction that young women are again discovering. They have begun changing back to the natural long hair, letting it grow to flow down their backs. Perhaps they now realize the true value of long hair, for, as it was once remarked, the very slender Vietnamese girls without their long hair do not differ from trees with leafless branches.

Views: 3032

Superstition in Vietnam

By Van Ngan

Saigon--What is the best way to keep a child healthy? An old Vietnamese grandfather believes the charm of a certain necklace wards off evil spirits and he may give it to his grandson to protect the boy. An employee fails to show up for work on the third day of the lunar month because he believes that particular date brings him bad luck. A student tries to borrow money to buy lottery tickets because he dreamed of fire the night before. These are some examples of superstition which may baffle the foreign visitor to this country. But, in Vietnam, it is part of tradition and customs passed down from one generation to the next. Ignorance, of course, plays some role in the traditional acceptance of superstition. Not having sufficient knowledge, faith or trust in scientific methods, a Vietnamese often relies on his prejudices, emotions and the word of his forefathers to guide his daily life.

Superstition, sometimes, plays more than a passing role in Vietnamese society. By the time a boy is old enough to marry, for example, he may not be able to wed the girl he loves because she was born in the wrong year. On the 12-year lunar calendar commonly used throughout Asia, many of the years are considered incompatible. Such years are thought to bring misfortune if they are improperly matched with other years. Thus a young man born in "the Year of the Tiger," cannot marry his beloved from "the Year of the Horse" unless he wants to risk a break in family ties with his parents and elder relatives. To the conservative relatives, the Tiger and Horse are incompatible and sure to bring bad luck to such a marriage. The hoot of an owl is regarded as a bad omen announcing death or illness. According to ancient tradition the bird must be chased away and those who heard his cry should be extremely cautious about their personal safety.

A large number of fortune-tellers, astrologers and palm-readers owe their living to Vietnamese superstition and often made a small fortune from their clients. Even the poor save money for occasional visits to well-known soothsayers. Superstition has been known to determine the conduct of the war in this ravaged country. A friendly or enemy commander may refuse to attack or may alter his strategy if the stars are not in his favor. One story has it that an American commander always consulted a Vietnamese astrologer before planning the deployment of his troops. When questioned by his incredulous superiors, he explained that, according to his theory, he could depend on the enemy to base his attacks on the positions of the stars. So, he consulted a stargazer himself for intelligence on the enemy's movements. Another story passed down through history is that of the famous Vietnamese generals Le Loi and Nguyen Trai. Several years ago, the pair was leading a war against Chinese invaders. Nguyen Trai decided to turn superstition to his advantage and used grease to write the phrases "Le Loi vi Quan; Nguyen Trai vi Than," (Le Loi for King; Nguyen Trai for Minister of State) on the large leaves of forest trees. Ants later consumed the grease absorbed in the leaf tissue and left the prophecy clearly engraved. People living nearby noticed the perforated leaves and interpreted them as a "divine message." Inspired by this, they wholeheartedly supported the war which eventually led to the defeat of the Chinese and the enthronement of Emperor Le Loi.

Another story is told of a Montagnard tribe that trapped a white elephant in 1961 and offered the rare animal to the late President Ngo Dinh Diem as a gift. Government news agencies, attempting to strengthen the already tottering regime of Diem, spread the word that a "powerful king" had been sent down from Heaven to rule the Vietnamese. The President himself flew to the city of Ban Me Thuot in the Central Highlands to accept the gift, a symbol of supreme and divine power. The elephant was given to Diem in a much publicized ceremony. Two years later, history proved no "powerful king" had come to the rescue when Diem was assassinated and his regime overthrown in a military coup. Whether by chance or not, superstition scores an occasional point in its favor. One story tells of an old Vietnamese Senator who, learning that the opening ceremony of the first Vietnamese Senate under the new Constitution would be October 10, 1967, voiced his disapproval. It was a bad day, he said, and someone in the Senate would surely suffer for the indiscretion. Four months later, during the Communist Tet offensive of 1968, Senator Tran Dien, a popular and well loved figure, was assassinated, by the Viet Cong in Hue, in Central Vietnam. The old Senator is convinced his prophecy of doom came true .

There are some social reformers in this country who believe that superstition is a problem, which should be eradicated in Vietnam is to become a truly progressive, modern nation. A young whipper-snapper, a graduate from a foreign western university, even proposed legislation to outlaw superstition in this country. How dull life would be if all our soothsayers, fortune tellers, palm-readers and astrologers were to be pensioned off and retired. We promptly took this abominable proposition to our favorite soothsayer who solemnly assured us that this is not in the stars.

Views: 2787

Funeral rites in Vietnam

By Van Ngan

Saigon (MF)--The Vietnamese attach great importance to two traditional family obligations to care for their parents in their old age and to mourn them in death. These duties are felt so strongly, they are considered sacred. The traditional time of mourning for parents is three years. Mourning begins even before death is imminent. When death is about to take place, the entire family assembles around the dying relative. A strict silence is observed. The eldest son or daughter bends close to record the last words of advice or counsel. At this time, the eldest child suggests a name for the dying person for it is considered unfortunate to continue the same name used in life after the relative has died. Men usually take the name "Trung" which means faithfulness or "True" which means loyalty. Women are usually called "Trinh" which means devotion or "Thuan" which means harmony.

According to ritual, when the parent has died, the children do not, as yet, accept the idea of death. They place a chopstick between the teeth of the deceased and place the body on a mat on the floor in an effort to "bring it back to life". The next rite in this tradition is for the eldest son or daughter to take a shirt the deceased has worn in life and to wave it in the air and call upon the soul of the dead to return to the body. After this rite has been completed, the descendants then perform the ceremonial cleansing of the body. The corpse is bathed which symbolizes washing off the dust of the terrestrial world; hair is combed and nails clipped. Money, gold and rice are placed in the mouth of the dead to indicate that the deceased has left this world without want or hunger. The corpse is then wrapped in white cloth and placed in a coffin. Members of the family form a honor guard around the clock until a propitious time for burial is selected.

During the period of mourning, descendants wear special mourning clothing. These garments are made of crepe of ample cut with a seam in the middle of the back. All are required to cover their heads. In times gone by when Confucianism was still a dominant influence in life, mourning the dead was considered more important than the affairs of the living. A mandarin had to resign his position and retire to his home. He was expected to erect a tomb where the parent was buried and there conduct memorial ceremonies. Mourners could not marry, comb their hair or have a haircut. They were not permitted to eat good food or enjoy any form of entertainment whatsoever.

Recently, however, the severity of the mourning period has been abolished to a large extent. After the funeral the descendants return to work and are no longer required to interrupt their business affairs. Clothing for the mourning period has been modified to only a piece of black cloth worn around the arm, lapel or the head. Wedding ceremonies during the mourning period are still banned, but if the families have already approved of the engagement, special dispensation may be obtained through the proper rural or urban authorities.

The Vietnamese writer Le Van Sieu explained the importance of traditional funeral ceremonies by saying "Funeral rites represent a traditional way of life to the Vietnamese people. They are based on the concept of the indestructible soul and the close relationship between members of the same blood line. By assuming this responsibility, generation after generation retains the strong fabric of our society".

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Vietnamese traditional medicine

By Lena Lopez

Although the government in Vietnam intends to develop an identifiable Vietnamese Medical Science, traditional medicine has existed for generations. There are three medical traditions which have coexisted in Vietnam prior to the impact of Western Medicine: these are Thuoc Bac (Northern Medicine), Thuoc Nam (Southern Medicine), and Thuoc Tay (Western Medicine).

With Thuoc Bac or Northern Medicine only those Vietnamese capable of reading Chinese characters could diagnose and prescribe remedies. Northern medicine began with the belief that out of Yin-Yang force interactions and the eight trigrams, one could construct a model of the entire universe, valid on both material and moral planes. The human body was thus a microcosmic reproduction of the vast dynamic natural forces at work in the universe. The body was intimately and constantly linked to those external forces, so that good health depended in large part on tuning internal functions to the environment, as well as building defenses against disruptive changes. Disease was defined as impairment of the overall balance between external and internal, physical and moral forces. Many drugs and methods of treatment clearly emerged by trial and error, only later being incorporated by Chinese metaphysicians into medical ideology.

Vietnamese practitioners of Northern Medicine relied on the four-part clinical examinations: visual inspection, auditory perception, questioning the patient, and taking his pulses. Other techniques of examination would be listening to the patient cough to even tasting his urine. Significantly, asking a patient for his past medical history or questioning him in detail about symptoms often caused suspicion. Expectations were placed on a good physician to know what was wrong from outward signs, and not have to rely on the perceptions of a untutored patient.

A physician first decided whether the illness was ni thÜÖng that is to say, emanating mainly from within the body due to poor physical maintenance or emotional strain, or ngoåi cäm, the result of external forces (time of year, weather, humorous food, drink) disrupting the body's systemic harmony. After that he needed to determine whether the disease was still superficial in character (bieu), or already lodged deep in the major organs of the body (ly). The 'hot' and 'cold' components had to be delineated. Finally he reviewed all symptoms to judge whether some actually disguised the ultimate source of illness, rather than revealing them.

Particular drugs could be administered to produce sweating, expectoration, defecation, urination, vomiting, heat reduction or heat increase. Other ingredients who designed to excite or soothe particular organs. Still others might be added to offset harmful side-effects. If a first choice of prescription did not appear to work, three of four other prescriptions existed for the same complaint. Some Northern medicine ingredients were extremely rare and treatment could become very expensive for the patient, capable of ruining an entire family financially if the disease persisted for very long.

The second tradition available to Vietnamese was Thuoc Nam, or 'Southern Medicine'. It relies almost exclusively on tropical plants and animals native to Vietnam. It was a poor man's medicine, generally using ingredients readily available nearby and involving a minimum of processing. Most knowledge was passed unselfconsciously from one generation to the next. Thus every one understood that for a common cold one could eat rice gruel laced with onion, place one's head under a blanket for a herbal steam bath (xông), or to rub a coin hard across certain parts of the body (cåo gio). Headaches could be treated by pinching or pricking the forehead. Preheated bamboo tubes or small glass cups were applied to the skin to suck out perverse humors. Garlic or soapherry helped some in danger of fainting, ginger relieved stomach aches and a broth made from tangerine rind lessened nausea. Chewing fresh tea leaves or guava buds might halt diarrhea, apricot leaves might relieve dysentery.

The third Vietnamese medical tradition Thuoc Tay involved dealing with harmful spirits, preferably by preventing them from entering the body at all. Or failing that, by finding a way to exorcise them and hence regain physical and mental equilibrium. The spirits went by many names and techniques for dealing with them were innumerable.

Concern began during pregnancy, when mothers wore amulets to protect the fetus, and continued into childbirth, when a symbolic notice was hung outside the home to ward off visitors for fear that someone of 'bad corporal essence' (xÃu viá) would make the infant sick. For the first year the infant's real name was not mentioned, to lessen the chances of being noticed by demons. Until the age of twelve, magical formulas were available to ward against Con Ranh, a demon specializing in killing children.

When a family member became seriously ill, defensive prayers would probably be offered to the ancestors, and someone sent to a fortune teller to try to ascertain which particular spirit was causing the trouble, and where one might go to offer food and seek forgiveness. If that failed to work a variety of Buddhist monks, Taoist priests, sorceress, and mediums were available. Either the patient or his close relative could proceed to cleanse himself, abstain from eating meat, and sleep at a temple or pagoda in hope of experiencing a dream which revealed the source of the problem. It was even sometimes necessary to shift the grave of an ancestor or move one's own residence to a more favorable position.

It is important to ask how the three medical traditions related to each other. Both Northern and Southern Medicine were primarily secular and naturalistic in character, not religious or spiritual. A stomach ache or an abscessed tooth was treated with pharmaceuticals, or perhaps acupuncture. If these did not work another technique would be attempted, or the patient would go to a different practitioner. There were no incantations, no ghosts, no battles of hex and anti-hex as in Eastern medicine. Similar to Eastern physicians, Northern medical practitioners in Vietnam had no reservations about including magical components in their ingredients. One remedy for post-partum illness specified that a particular leaf had to be picked in utmost secrecy or it would lose its effectiveness. Another in the same text, after curing the symptoms of a bewitched person, prescribed the drinking of one bowl of warm blood from the neck of a freshly killed black dog in order to expel the poisons from the body.

Contrary to Northern Medicine beliefs, Eastern Medicine practitioners believed that humans possessed three 'souls' (hÒn), unlike animals with two, or plants with one. These could be attacked or lured out of the body. Death meant loss of all three souls, unconsciousness the loss of two, and various mental or physical disorders the loss of one.

In conclusion, since 1954, Vietnam had inevitably produced two very different health systems. In the South, the government extolled Northern medicine and tried repeatedly to restrict the role and status of traditional practitioners. In the North, building on practical experience obtained during the Anti-French Resistance, Ho Chi Minh urged all medical practitioners to study means of 'harmonizing' Eastern and Southern remedies. Meanwhile the advent of the Second Indochina War forced ordinary citizens in both regions to fall back on local initiatives and remedies.

REFERENCES:

1. Archimedes, Patti. Why Vietnam ? Prelude to American's Albatross. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980, p.52.

2. Cima, Ronald Vietnam a Country Study. Washington D. C.: Library Of Congress, 1989, p.20-22.

3- Coney, Rober. The Process of Americanization :The Process of Americanization problems of the Vietnamese Refugees: California: Alameda County California 1981, p.2-4 and p.50-52.

4- Crozier, Ralph. Traditional Medicine in Modern China: Science. Nationalism, and the Tension of Cultural Change. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1968, p.58-148.

5. Dunker, William. The Lessons of the Vietnam War. Pittsburgh: Center of Social studies Education, 1988, p.19.

6. Frrbes, Susan. Adaptation and Integration of Recent Refugees to the United States. Washington DC: Refugee Policy Group, 1985, p.68-7Z.

7. Hinton, Harold. East Asia and the Western Pacific 1992. Washington DC: Stryker-Post Publications, 1992, p.32.

8. Huard, Pierre and Ming Wong. Chinese Medicine. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1975, p.64.

9. Lavergne, D.C. and Abul H.K. Sassani- Education in Vietnam. Washington, DC: US Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, 1975, p. 17-27.

10. Marr David. Vietnamese Tradition on Trial, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981, p.78-82, 212-214, and 339-340.

11. Nguyen Dinh Hoa. Some Aspects of Vietnamese culture Carbondale, Illinois Southern University, 1980, p.42.

12. Owen, Norman. Death and Disease in Southeast Asia. Singapore: Oxford University Press, 1987, p.20-21.

13. Scott James. Vietnamese Healing. Connecticut: Yale Southeast Asia Studies, 1986, p.26-59.

14. Thuy, Vuong- Getting to Know the Vietnamese and Their culture. New York Frederick Ungar Publishing Company, 1980, p.7-13.

15. Tran Minh Tung. Health and Disease: The Indochinese Perspective in Working with Indochinese Refugees. Chicago: Travelers d, 1978, p.45-46.

16. U. S. Government. lnteragency Task Force on Indochinese Refugees. A Guide to Two Cultures American and Indochinese. Washington, D.C.: 1975, p.28-35.

17. Government, United States-Vietnam Relations. 1945-1967, Volume II, Book 1. Washington DC: US Government Printing Office, 197l, p.20-31.

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The Refined Pleasure of Tea-Drinking

by Tuong Minh

Tu Xuong, one of the best-liked Vietnamese poets of the late 19th century, once claimed to have a "Triple Weakness" for tea, for wine and for sex. He readily admitted defeat in his vain attempts to resist these three worldly pleasures, especially the irresistible charms of tea.

From early times, the Tea plant, a native of Southern China, has been known to Botany and Medicine in ancient China. Highly valued for its healing properties (such as relieving fatigue, delighting the soul and strengthening the will as well as the eye-sight of tea-lovers). Tea can also be used as a stimulant to help students or priests fighting drowsiness during their long hours of study or meditation. However, its high cost at the beginning made it a "regalia for high treatment and entertainment; and too choicy, too costly a beverage for the common people."

But in a relatively short time, tea drinking has spread with marvelous rapidity to make tea not only a popular beverage, a necessity of life, but a poetical pastime and one of the most distinguished methods of self- realization. Tea also represented the true spirit of Asian Democracy by making all tea-lovers aristocrats in taste and in the free communion of artistic spirits.

Tea has been warmly welcomed in the dwellings of the humblest of peasants as well as in the palaces of the haughtiest of princes and mandarins.

Furthermore, it has led people of different countries to gather around the tea-set in the highly refined delectation of its flavor.

Heartily accepted by the Western world (which so often has failed to pay due respect to Eastern culture) since the early 16th century, that brown beverage is still almost the only Asian product commanding universal respect.

However, tea in itself is a work of art that requires a master's hand to bring out its noblest qualities. There is no single recipe for making the perfect brew, but there are many ways to prepare the tea-leaves; each one has its own individuality, and its own affinity with water and heat.

Some connoisseurs proclaim that the best formula for tea-preparation can be summed up in the 11 Sino-Vietnamese words "NhÃt thûy, nhì trà, tam bôi, tÙ bình, ngÛ quÀn anh " (Lit-water first, then the choice of tea, of tea-cups, of tea pots and the choice of companions). Nothing is possible without the right choice of water according to tea-master's teachings; pure water taken from a mountain spring is always the best; next comes river-water, then water taken out of a deep well dug in a thinly populated area. Naturally there is no use for unclean water and water polluted with any kind of waste.

After that, the pure water must be boiled in the right way. Tea-lovers are particularly choosy in the choice of fuel to be used in boiling the water. Charcoal is preferred because it does not give an undesirable stink to the boiled water as other fuels might do. Never let the kettle boil dry over boiled water would be lacking in taste and flavor due to too great a loss of oxygen.

Water should be brought to the right boiling point, when the little bubbles in the tea-kettle, look like the eyes of crabs. When the water is boiled beyond this point these bubbles look like fish's eyes. When the bubbles surge wildly in the kettle the water is already over-boiled and has lost too much oxygen to be used for tea-making.

As for the tea itself, there are so many varieties that even the cleverest among tea-connoisseurs would have trouble making a comprehensive list of them. Aristocrats in ancient China once prided themselves upon their specially prepared teas such as "Vu Di Son Tra" (tea plants grown on the famous mountain named Vu Di) or "Tram ma tra" (tea leaves taken out of beheaded horse's stomach).

According to Lu Wu, a mid-8th century Chinese poet and the first apostle of tea in China, "the top quality tea-leaves must have creases like the leather boots of tartar horsemen; must curl like the dewlap of a mighty bullock; must be able to unfold like a mist rising out of a ravine; must be gleaming like a lake surface under the caresses of a gentle breeze and must be wet and soft like a newly rain-swept earth" (Lu Wu - The Holy Scripture of tea/trà Kinh in Vietnamese).

Tea-enthusiasts in Vietnam as well as in many other countries in South East Asia have known themselves to be less exacting in their love of tea. Tea seeds were brought back from China (by many member, of the Buddhist Church or of the diplomatic services) to be planted in local tea plantations, giving great delight not only to the local aristocracy and priesthood but to the common people, sometimes later on.

As the caked-tea and powdered-tea (of the Tang and Sung dynasties in China) had sunk into oblivion centuries before, the only method of drinking tea which reached the South East Asian region was to steep tea-leaves (or dried and flower-perfumed tea-leaves) in boiling water.

According to old-time etiquette, drinkers were expected to pay much attention to the appreciation of tea-utensils (especially tea-cups, tea-spots, tea-trays). There were different sets of tea-utensils to serve just one drinker (Çc Äm), two drinkers (song Äm), four drinkers (tÙ Äm) or several drinkers at the same time (quÀn Äm/many people taking tea together), As for tea-cups, most popular in ancient China & Vietnam were the tiny ones -about the size of a jack fruit seed (chén mít) or a buffalo's eye (chén m¡t trâu). Tea connoisseurs make a point savoring their tea in tiny cups because their main source of pleasure comes mostly from the amount of beverage consumed. Consequently the art of tea-drinking exerted a favorable influence on pottery and ceramics. The blue glaze was once considered by many tea-lovers as the ideal color for tea-cups because it lent additional greenness to the beverage years later, black and dark brown were preferred by some while many connoisseurs of steeped tea felt the greatest joy over a set of white-glaze porcelain.

Until the first half of the 20th century, the possession of a highly-valued tea-set (made of glazed pottery or porcelain with or without drawings of flowers, birds or landscapes) was a must for the average Vietnamese household.

Last but not least was the pleasure of keeping good company with close friends or other fellows in the appreciation of tea.

More often than not, tea-drinking parties became a kind of improvised drama, with the plot woven about tea, flowers, music, paintings, and poetry. For members of high society, tea grew to become an excuse for the worship purity and refinement.

According to the teachings of Senno Rikyu, the 16th century best-known, Japanese tea-master, it is on the host's responsibility not only to prepare charcoal to heat the water, but to make his guest feel warm in winter and cool in summer, to be attentive towards all guests and to serve the tea with insight into their souls.

Such are the keys to a successful tea-drinking party, nowadays a rarity for many Asian tea-lovers as global industrialization makes true refinement more and more difficult. To be merely an idealized form of drinking but to some extent a kind of religion, at least for worshippers of the art of living.

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Non Bai Tho or Poetical Leaf

ake a peasant's common conical hat, add a touch of this and a little of that, and you will have the idea, but not quite an authentic Nón Bài ThÖ or "Poetical Leaf" from Central Vietnam. Just a few simple arrangements added to the conical form are enough to give the Vietnamese leaf-covered hat unique features found nowhere else among Asia's various types of conical hats.

Vietnamese girls become milder, more elegant and more delicate when once they put on a hat which gives shelter to their blushing cheeks like a crowing bud protected from sun, rain or rough wind. Now, Vietnamese girls do not like just any conical hat they come upon. The dearest to them is inevitably the one called the "Poetical Leaf ".

Looking at the inside of the hat, when held ,against the light, one finds widely popular, romantic poems, proverbs and old sayings; sometimes there is the image of a temple, palace or tomb.

The hat originated in Hue, the ancient cultural capital of Vietnam, and the birthplace of many eminent literary men. It is true that the place where the hat comes from has been romantically famous with its peaceful HÜÖng (Perfume) River and its majestic Ng¿ Bình (Peace) mountain. Moreover, Hu‰ has been famous for her attractively sentimental, soft-voiced and long-haired girls who often gave inspiration to poets whose creative works have been handed down to the present day. And the "Poetical Leaf" has a prominent place in all that poetical, dreamy and yet scholarly diet of the ancient city.

The hat is meticulously and creatively made from simple materials of nature. Thin wooden pieces with notches are used as a frame to shape the conical form and to hold the hat rims together. All this is done solely by hand, for no machine ever touches a " Poetical Leaf ".

The leaves used to cover the hat are brought from the forest. Then they are exposed to the dew for one night to soften them. When the leaves become dry but still soft they are flattened either by hand or by ironing. Only young leaves are selected. Old or dark ones are discarded. A hat usually consists of 16 to 18 rims made from a special kind of bamboo. The poem and picture frames are made in advance and then attached to the hat between the leaves. 1n order to have a well-made hat, it must be knitted together with a peculiar kind of thread made from the leaves of a special kind of reed.

Finally, the hat is trimmed and painted with a coat of attar oil to keep it clean and smooth.

All the attraction and unique value of the hat depends upon the arrangements of the dexterous craftsman.

The "Poetical Leaf" is not only a symbol of the mysterious dreamlike beauty of the girls in Central Vietnam, but has also become part of the national cultural spirit.

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KIM-VAN-KIEU by Nguyen-Du (1765-1820)

"Nothing better reflects the soul of a nation than its heroes and poets. If the Vietnamese do not all agree in their choice of a national hero, they unanimously consider Nguyen-Du, the author of Kim-Van-Kieu ", a 3,254 line poem composed in the early 19th century, as their national poet.

With this masterpiece, Nguyen-Du consecrated his mother tongue as a poetical language of an extraordinary delicacy, power and richness. He also gave to the soul of his fatherland a sensitive and prestigious mirror in which its eternal image, evolving throughout the centuries and in changing settings, is reflected."[2]

Nguyen-Du was born in 1765 at the village of Tien-Dien, in the province of Ha-Tinh (now in North Vietnamese territory), the seventh child of a former Prime Minister under the Le dynasty. Several members of his family, including one of his brothers, were noted scholars and mandarins at the Court. At the age of 17, Nguyen-Du himself passed the traditional Chinese-style triennal competitive examination and received the title of "tu-tai", which opened up for him prospects of a bright mandarinal career. At that time, Viet-Nam was going through one of the darkest periods of her history, torn apart, as she now is, by a protracted civil war. It was not, however, an ideological war imposed by one party upon the other- such as is the case in the present conflict - but a war between two rival feudal families.

Since the early 17th century, Viet-Nam had been. partitioned into two parts along the Gianh river (19th parallel), the North under the control of the Trinh, the South under the Nguyen. The two families fought against each other while pledging allegiance to the Le dynasty, which each of them claimed to recognize as the legitimate authority. After fifty years of civil war, marked by intermittent campaigns in both parts of the country, a 100-year truce followed and lasted until 1774. But two years before, in 1772 - Nguyen-Du was then 7 years old - a-local rebellion led by three brothers, Nguyen-Nhac, Nguyen-Lu and Nguyen-Hue from the village of Tay Son, in the present central coastal province of Binh-Dinh, had reached the proportion of a nationwide revolution directed against both rival houses and widely-supported by the poverty-stricken peasants and the newly-emerging small merchant class - Kieu's father belonged to that new class, "he was neither rich nor poor" - tired by war and the exactions of corrupt officials at all levels.

The Tay Son revolt very quickly became fatal to the Nguyen in 1776, Saigon fell and Nguyen-Anh, the heir to the Nguyen "throne", fled the country and sought refuge in Siam. The Tay Son brothers then turned against the Trinh Nguyen-Hue, the youngest brother, and one of the most outstanding Vietnamese generals, captured Thang-Long (Hanoi) in 1786 and deposed the Trinh. Nguyen-Hue formally restored the Le dynasty and married the daughter of Emperor Le-Hien-Tong, Princess Ngoc-Han, a famous poetess. Le-Hien-Tongs successor Le-Chieu-Thong, asked the Mandchu rulers for help and a 200,000-man Chinese army invaded VietNam but was routed by Nguyen-Hue in 1789. Le-Chieu-Thong fled to China and it was the end of the Le dynasty. For a few years, the Tay Son were going to be the masters of the whole of Viet-Nam but in 1802 they were in their turn defeated by Nguyen-Anh, supported by France. The rule of the Tay Son was brief but the unity of Viet-Nam which they had shaped survived and was to be strengthened by Nguyen-Anh, who became Emperor Gia Long.

It is necessary to keep in mind this historical and social background in order to understand both Nguyen-Du and his main work, "Kim-Van-Kieu".

One of the first lines of the poem -"Oceans turn to mulberry fields, a desolate scene", was an obvious reference to those upheavals and turmoil's.

Faithful to the Le dynasty, Nguyen-Du and members of his family joined the fight against the Tay Son - although according to certain historians apparently without much conviction - but as he realized that it was of no avail, he refused to co-operate with the new regime and returned to his native village. For several years led a secluded life, hunting, reading, writing and spending long hours walking in the Hong-Linh 99-peak mountain range area.

After the collapse of the Tay Son, Nguyen-Du halfheartedly rallied Emperor Gia-Long - some historians believe that he was "drafted"- and started a brilliant mandarinal career, first as a provincial administrator, then at the Court. 1n 1813 - he was then 48 - he was appointed Can-Chanh (Grand Chancellor of the Empire) and went as Special Envoy to China.

It was during that diplomatic mission that he noticed a Chinese novel entitled "The story of Kim-Van-Kieu ", written by an author under the pen-name of "Thanh-Tam Tai-Nhan" in the 16th or the early 17th century, which he later adapted into his own poem.

On his return to Viet-Nam, Nguyen-Du was promoted Le-Bo huu tam-tri (Vice-Minister of Rites) and in 1820, the first year of the reign of Emperor Minh Mang, on the point of leaving on another Embassy to China, he fell suddenly ill and died at the age of 56.

DOAN-TRUONG TAN-THANH

The initial title given by Nguyen-Du to "Kim-Van-Kieu" was "Doan-Truong Tan-Thanh" (New accents of a heart-rending song). It recounts the trials and tribulations of Kieu, a beautiful and talented girl, who had to sacrifice her love and sell herself - she was driven into prostitution - in order to save her father from jail, out of filial piety. According to most literary critics, Nguyen-Du saw in Kieus life and destiny a sad replica of his own. For him and his family, Gia-Long was after all a "usurper" and serving him was, according to Confucian ethical concepts, an act of disloyalty (that tiet), if not of treason or "moral prostitution".

During his years at the Court, Nguyen-Du proved an able and honest administrator. But he gave the impression of feeling more at ease among peasants and the common people than among his colleagues. For these, he was a silent and moody man. Some of them saw in his attitude sheer arrogance and aloofness but those who knew him more intimately realized that he bore some secret wound. One day, during a Court session, Emperor Gia-Long himself reproachingly asked him why he usually remained silent while state affairs were being debated Nguyen sobbed and offered to resign but the Emperor refused.

In a famous two-line verse, Nguyen-Du, who wrote under the pen-name of To-Nhu, in one of his pessimistic moods, wondered whether within three hundred years, there would be "someone, somewhere, who would still remember him with tenderness ".

It was a mere lack of self-confidence on his part, for "Kim-Van-Kieu ", after 150 years, is still the most popular poem in Viet-Nam and the foreigners who know it through translations - although translations are unable to render all its poetical beauty and flavour - readily recognize it as one of the masterpieces of universal literature.

Few are the Vietnamese - whatever their social background - who do not know one or two lines of the poem and some of them even use it as a book of oracles, finding in it, in times of difficulty and stress if not the answer, at least an echo to their own problems.

In "Kim-Van-Kieu" we find the dominant themes of Buddhism.

[1] Pronounced in the northern dialect zoo; in the southern dialect you.

[2] From the introduction to the translation into French of "Kim-Van- Kieu" by Xuan-Phuc and Xuan-Viet,in the "Connaissance de l'Orient" series, sponsored by UNESCO, Gallimard, Paris, 1961.

PROLOGUE

Four score and two tens, within that short span of human life,

Talent and Destiny are poised in bitter conflict.

Oceans turn to mulberry fields a desolate scene!

More gifts, less chance, such is the law of Nature

And the blue sky is known to be jealous of rosy cheeks.

KIEUS FAMILY

Pages of fragrant manuscripts turn under the lamplight

And the Rom"nces of yore "[1] recorded on green tablets,

Recount that, one year, under the reign of Gia Tinh[2]of the Ming dynasty

There lived a craftsman by the name of Vuong.

He was neither rich nor poor.

His youngest child, a son, Vuong Quan, was a scholar, a proud link in the family tradition.

He had two daughters they were as beautiful as the goddess of the Moon

Thuy Kieu was the older sister, Thuy Van the younger one.

Both were as graceful as the "mai" flower and as pure as snow.

Each had her own charm, a perfect charm in its way.

Van was endowed with an uncommon poise,

Her face was one of harmonious features adorned with brows of a noble design.

A smile as fresh as a flower gave her a touch of natural distinction, a word she uttered was a precious stone.

Clouds could not shape the graceful fall of her hair and snow was no match for her complexion.

But there was more refinement, more glamour in Kieus charm

And in wit and culture she outshone her sister.

Her gaze had the deep intensity of an autumn lake,

The curve of her brows was like the dreamful line of mountains in the spring.

Flowers envied her frail delicacy, willows her green youth.

A smile from her could rock empires and citadels.

Her beauty was exceptional, her talents unrivaled.

Nature had bestowed upon her bountiful gifts

She was equally well versed in poetry, painting, singing and diction.

The five-scale tone had no secret for her.

She excelled in the playing of the lute

And her favorite piece was her composition, "The cruel fate", a poignant lament.

A fair maiden, she lived behind curtains and screens,

Approaching the age when she would adorn her hair with combs and pins, [3]

Indifferent to the bees and butterflies frolicking at the Eastern wall.

[1] The Chinese novel on which is based Nguyen Du's Kim-Van-Kieu.

[2] 1522-1566.

[3] Age when girls could marry.

THE BOAT OF ILLUSION

by Nguyet Cam

Classical eastern poetry took on a popular flavor at the hands of Vietnamese scholars, write Nguyet Cam

Heels muddied in the pursuit of wealth and fame

Weather-beaten face revealing life's cataclysmus

Thoughts of drifting fate brings pain

Bubbles in the ocean of misery

Duckweed at the edge of the dark shore

The taste of life numbs the bitter tongue

The journey through this life is bruising, full of obstacles

Waves in the river mouth rise and fall

The boat of illusion pitches and rolls at the edge of the waterfall

Nguyen Gia Thieu

For most non-Vietnamese, Vietnam conjures images of war or, perhaps, an Asian country striving to become the latest economic dragon. Few recognize that despite centuries of war and economic hardship, the Vietnamese have one of the world's oldest languages, most fertile cultures and richest national literature's.

As with many Eastern cultures, the development of Vietnamese literature has been profoundly shaped by the country's proximity to China, and particularly by the Chinese writing system. While spoken Vietnamese has always remained a distinct language, the same is not true for the written language. Early Vietnamese official, diplomatic and educational writings used Chinese characters. But they were pronounced in a Vietnamese way. Sometime before the 8th century, a Vietnamese writing system was devised. Known as Nom or Southern Letters, it transformed or combined Chinese characters to render Vietnamese words.

Nom began to be used in serious literature only during the Tran Dynasty in the 1200s. At the end of the 1300s, the most important mandarin in the Tran court, Ho Qui Ly, attempted to promote the development and widespread use of Nom. Before his plans were realized, Vietnam was invaded and occupied by China's Minh Dynasty and Nom fell into disuse.

Under the Le Dynasty, set up in the mid 1400s, Nom received royal support and was encouraged in literary works. The first major collection of Nom poetry was Nguyen Trai's Quoc Am Thi Tap. It was followed by the Hong Duc Quoc Am Thi Tap, a collection of poetry written by King Le Thanh Tong, who was known to compose verse for pleasure in his free time. Following tradition, Nom poetry addressed such themes as the beauty of nature or moral relations between rulers and ruled. There was little of real artistic value.

In the 16th century two anonymous Nom narratives appeared, entitled Vuong Tuong and To Cong Phung Su. These new longer Nom stories borrowed their plots from Chinese history beginning what became a long literary fashion. In the following century a new work, Lam Truyen Van, marked a major development in the history of Vietnamese poetry.

Written by Phung Khac Khoan during a period of exile, it was set in the countryside and offered poetic depiction's of fruit and vegetables. Not only did it break with tradition in subject matter, but it used vernacular language within a new poetic form, comprised of alternating six and eight word lines.

The populist form and content caught on, reaching a peak in the 18th and 19th centuries. The later period produced dozens of anonymous verse narratives, such as Hoa Tien, Phan Tran, Pham Ngoc Tai Hoa, Tong Tran Cuc Hoa; and substantial works by the luminaries of Vietnamese literature: Doan Thi Diem, Nguyen Gia Thieu, Ho Xuan Huong, Nguyen Cong Tru, and Nguyen Du.

Doan Thi Diem (1705-1748) was Vietnam's first known female translator. She is believed to have translated Dang Tran Con's poetic masterwork, Chinh Phu Ngam (The Song of a Soldier's Wife), from Chinese into Nom. Her translation is simple, clear and beautiful:

Your way leads you to lands of rain and wind

mine takes me back to our old room, our bed

We turn and look, but all has come between

green mountains and blue clouds roll on and on

Another brilliant eighteenth century poet, Nguyen Gia Thieu expressed very personal feelings and sorrows in his work. Born into a high- mandarin family and promoted to an important post at a young age, Nguyen Gia Thieu turned his hack on wealth and status to devote himself to writing. His main work, Cung Oan Ngam Khuc (The Lament of a Concubine), described the misery, loneliness and desire for love of a young and beautiful concubine abandoned in a forbidden palace. It is easy to recognize feelings the poet himself might have, not just those of an imaginary woman. In contrast to Chinh Phu Ngam, Cung Oan Ngam Khuc is a work of high culture. Each sentence, each polished word is testimony to the poet's literary erudition and sophistication. It is not an easy poem for the casual reader to understand.

On the other hand, many of the works by Ho Xuan Huong: "The Queen of Nom" remain transparent to all:

I'm like a jackfruit in a tree

Whose skin is rough and flesh thick

If you like it, then stake it,

Don't finger it; you'll get sticky hands

Jackfruit is staked for ripening, which involves a drying-out process. A master at double meaning, Huong uses everyday objects to describe the predicament of women. Despite her popularity, little is known of her life.

If Shakespeare's work represents the greatest literary achievement in the English language, then Nguyen Du's 3254 line masterpiece, "The Tale of Kieu", can be considered the pinnacle of classical Vietnamese literature.

Nguyen Du came from an aristocratic northern family with a long tradition of literary excellence. He based his story on the plot of a Chinese novel: "The Tale of Kim Van Kieu" by Thanh Tam. The narrative charts the ups and downs of Vuong Thuy Kieu (a real figure in 16th century Chinese history) a girl so beautiful that "flowers grudged her glamour" and so gifted that she "irked the jealous gods". When her family falls on hard times, Kieu must abandon the one she loves and sells herself to save them. From then on, her life is full of tears and misery; she must twice prostitute herself, twice serve as slave, and she twice attempts suicide. Finally, she is re-united with her family and marries her first love (who in then her younger sister's husband).

The Tale of Kieu presents a successful integration of fictional narrative convention with poetic form. Its subtle beauty recalls the best of Tang poetry as well as the simple lyricism of traditional folk songs. Written in alternating lines of six and eight words, the diverse images and multiple harmonies of its language suggest both music and painting.

The first lines, which most Vietnamese know by heart, set the theme of the tale: "talent and destiny are apt to feud" but a constant "heart" will save the day.

Thus on first meeting her true love, the youthful and handsome Kim Trong, Kieu's tragedy is foreshadowed in her innocent msings:

Who is he? Why did we chance to meet?

Does fate intend some ties between us two?

Kieu's feeling are lovingly revealed as they ebb and flow through her extraordinary life. In the midst of her troubles the inner turmoil she experiences is evoked:

Oh, how she pined and mourned for her old love

Cut from he mind, it clung to her heart.

After a shady businessman, Thuc Sinh, buys her out of prostitution and takes her as his clandestine concubine, Kieu expresses her anxiety and resignation to fate with a brilliant metaphor:

A clinging ivy - that's my humble lot

Will Heaven bless or curse this marriage knot?

In Vietnamese literature, few lines of verse about nature can be move people like Nguyen Du's

Waters, all gleaming, mirrors for the sky

Walls wreathed in sapphire mist, peaks gilt with sunlight

Characters in the Tale of Kieu are crafted so skillfully that they have become an integral part of everyday Vietnamese language. It is not unusual to hear people say someone is "as beautiful and gifted as Kieu"; "jealous as Hoan Thu", "dastardly as So Khanh", "henpecked like Thuc Sinh", or "as brave as Tu Hai". Artists paint Kieu, children recite Kieu, wits draw from Kieu for riddles and word-play, and women even consult her as method of fortune-telling. In the past when most of the country was illiterate, it was easy to find people who could recite Kieu by heart. Some could literally chant it from back to front. If you visit Hanoi's Hang Da market today, you may he lucky to meet an old merchant who will answer all of your questions by quoting directly from Kieu.

Writers too use lines from the Tale of Kieu, and its two concluding lines close this article:

May these crude words, culled and strung one by one

Beguile an hour or two of your long night.

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