Viet Nam. Hữu Ngọc

which are rarely incarnated, include:

      • Buddhist divinities, particularly the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara (Quan Âm) and the Buddha Amitabha (A Di Đà)

      • Taoist divinities, such as the Jade Emperor of the Sky (Ngọc Hoàng), who governs the Realm of the Immortal

      • many spirits, which cannot be classified, for instance, Guan Yu (Kuan Yu, Quan Vũ, or Quan Công, 162–219, a great Chinese warrior during the Three Kingdoms) as well as the souls of the ancestors

      An essential characteristic of these beliefs is the divinities’ mediums.

      One might ask: How does someone become a medium?

      Each mortal is presumed to have an individual destiny governed by one or several spirits from the Three or Four Palaces. People with a heavy destiny (căn số nặng) are often sick and prone to misfortune because they are persecuted (hành) by an invisible master, who wants to use these individuals as servant soldiers (lính hầu). Those wishing to submit to this recruitment must undergo an initiation ceremony, tôn nhang, in which they carry on their heads a tray with a vase of joss sticks. If the spirit does not immediately agree to a recruit’s petitions, the applicant must hold a ceremony for entry into service of the concerned spirit or spirits (lễ trình đồng). This very costly ceremony lasts from two to three days. The recruit must present himself or herself to the spirits (trình đồng) and be accepted by them as a medium (đồng) through the shadow rite (hầu bóng), during which the spirits become incarnated in a professional medium.

      The shadow rite is the key ceremony in the worship of mother goddesses. A female medium (bà đồng) seats herself in front of the altar, her head and upper body draped in a large red veil, which sets her apart from the World of Mortals. During a session, which usually lasts from two to seven hours, the divinities descend (giáng đồng) on the soul of the medium to incarnate themselves. Not all divinities descend, and each medium has his or her preferred divinities. For each successive incarnation (giá đồng), the medium possessed by the divinity must wear the proper costume, use the correct attributes (color, objects), and behave according to the particular divinity’s temperament (sweet or violent, young or old).

      As the rite unfolds, the medium’s head begins to nod more and more quickly, which sets her upper body in motion. She enters a trance, dancing and speaking while the incarnation takes place. As a spirit, she distributes favors to the faithful in fulfilment of their wishes. A liturgical singer (cung văn) plays a very important role as animator for each session. A novice who has completed the shadow rite may become a professional medium.

Ancestor Worship

      Yesterday was the death anniversary of my mother, who died several decades ago. I placed on our ancestral altar a tray of flowers, a cup of plain water, and a few dishes of food. Then, with my hands clasped in prayer, I bowed three times to her photograph. All the while, my four-year-old grandson looked on, intrigued.

      “Is your mother home with us today, Grandpa?” he asked.

      “Yes,” I answered.

      In general, my generation, which experienced the Revolution and the two wars of resistance (1945–1975), does not believe in the Other World. Still, we are attached to old memories. For this reason, despite limited living conditions, each family will reserve the best place in the house for the family’s ancestral altar. This altar may be only a shelf fixed to the wall at a sufficiently high level to be apparent but not obstructive. On it are photographs of the deceased, a joss-stick holder, two candlesticks, and, sometimes, an incense-burner. Wealthier families can afford a room especially for the altar, while rural people worship the deceased in the central section of their house.

      Many Vietnamese believe that the departed are not separated from the living, that their souls hover about the ancestral altar, and that their spirits will return to stay with the living on festive occasions, especially at Tết (the Lunar New Year) and on death anniversaries. Traditionally, Vietnamese honor only death anniversaries, not birthdays, the latter being a recent Western importation and a luxury for the rich. The deceased are believed to share the joys and pains of the living. Thus, the living make offerings to the departed whenever memorable family events occur, for example, the birth of a child, a child’s first day at school, a successful exam, construction of a new house, engagements, weddings, deaths, voyages, and even bankruptcies. The living invoke the deceased to help, and they offer to the departed votive paper objects, including paper hats, suits of paper clothes, cardboard beds, and even paper maché horses, motorcycles, and cars.

      Since Đổi Mới (Renovation or Renewal, which began in late 1986), we have witnessed a return to spirituality, particularly the revival of ancestor worship. This practice, which is rooted in the Vietnamese collective subconscious, was abandoned to oblivion during the wars’ hardships and a vague notion of atheist materialism. More stable living conditions and relative well-being brought about by current economic renovation and, coupled with the desire to heal the bitter seasons’ wounds, have encouraged our people’s return to traditional ancestral spirituality. Vietnamese have restored their family altars. They visit and tend family graves and expand their gatherings for ancestral worship. Family members come together, particularly on death anniversaries, to join in ritual worship and to share a meal.

      Could ancestor worship be an anchor preserving national identity at the family level during modern-day family disintegration and a decline in traditional moral values?

      The Study Center on Child Psychology founded by Nguyễn Khắc Viện says, “Yes.” The Center undertook a research project on ancestor worship in an urban environment. The survey involved thirty-five Hà Nội families, who answered questions, including the following: Will ancestor worship disappear with urbanization and industrialization? Is ancestor worship causally linked to the extended family? Can ancestor worship play a stabilizing role? Does ancestor worship influence child psychology?

      Ancestor worship is not actually a religion but a body of animistic beliefs accepted by almost the entire society, including followers of every religion (in many instances, even by Catholics and other Christians). Through rites, each individual is tied not only to the family’s living members but also to the ancestors. Members of the same lineage can still be found in fairly large numbers in major urban areas. The ties linking them are symbolic, contributing to the education and emotional health of children and adults.

      A child acquainted with the rites of ancestor worship receives distinct socio-cultural values. A woman widowed late in life might feel less lonely if, during the first hundred days after her husband’s burial, she places a tray of food on the family altar at lunch time and dinner time and then lights a few joss sticks. The presence of the ancestral altar in each Vietnamese house and the periodic acts of worship support the spirits of the deceased to remain present in the lives of the living and to encourage the living to preserve and honor the family.

Village Alliances

      In traditional Việt Nam, the village was like an islet encircled by a bamboo hedge and seeming to float amidst rice paddies. Indeed, the village was an autonomous administrative, economic, and cultural unit. An old saying held, “Royal decrees yield to village customs.” Each village has its own tutelary spirit, communal rules, and customs. However, this isolation was tempered by a quite widespread practice, giao hiếu or giao hảo, an agreement between two or more neighboring villages and sometimes between several distant villages. These allied villages never brought legal proceedings against each other; rather, they provided mutual aid during floods, typhoons, fires, and epidemics, and they fought in coordination against pirates. The people of one village often sent a delegation and gifts to the festivals of an allied village. Every five or ten years, they would organize a joint festival.

      Văn Xá and Văn Lâm Villages are twenty kilometers apart in two different districts of former Hà Nam Ninh Province in the Red River Delta. Despite this distance, spiritual links unite the two, for their tutelary spirits are said to be husband and wife. Legend has it that during the Lý Dynasty (1009–1225), a fisherman named Cao Văn Phúc