A Vietnamese funeral

April 2005

I just got back yesterday after being away on the road, and it was nice to be home. I sat on the 3rd floor terrace on my wicker sofa, and sometimes got on the hammock to relax some more, listening to a nice mix of music: Lynda Lemay, Jean-Pierre Ferland, Joe Dassin, George Michael, etc. I made some yummy French toats with fresh mangoes and maple syrup. What could be better on a Saturday morning…?

Then I heard the sounds of drums and horns plus I could see a small procession making its way down the street. At first I assumed it was some kind of festival that no one had told me about, maybe to celebrate the recent harvest of Ba Thuoc. I quickly took out my digital camera not wanting to miss anything of this local event but soon I noticed that people were wearing white clothes and bandanas, and realized that this was a funeral. I saw the casket on a shaky wheeled platform and mourners wailing and throwing themselves onto the coffin. Some people were at the front with red banderoles, a picture of the deceased on a tray with incense. I hesitated then decided to go down and join the procession incognito. But I was quickly spotted tho people did not seem to mind my presence and even encouraged me to follow them.

I stayed at the back, trying to be as discreet as I could, but still people tried to talk to me but quickly witnessed the limits of my Vietnamese. We would then smile and move along. The procession turned onto a small dirt road and then pass through a cemetery. At one end, the procession stopped and some men lifted the coffin, move it to the gravesite and put down the coffin in the big whole. The cries and wailing got more dramatic, and I could hear “mother, mother” from one of the women there. The rest I could not understand. Then each person threw in some earth before the men got serious and started to use shovels. Then they put incense and candles on the mound, and planted a small tree at the foot. It all happened in a very simple and communal atmosphere, and then I went home.

Someone told me that a Vietnamese custom with regards to death is that 3 year after burial, they unearth the remains, clean each bone one by one and rebury the "remains". I could not have witnessed such a ceremony, tho it is usually very private and only attended by family members, not the public as was the case today.

Before heading up to my apartment I saw my landlord and she started talking to me. She quickly noticed that I was not following, so she went and turned on and off the light of my entrance. I finally got it that she wanted me to pay my electricity bill, 70 000 dong which is about 6$ for the month. Not bad. Then she asked me : « An toi chua? », but I could not understand. She repeated 3 times and then her daughter looked at me and said: “have dinner?”, and it clicked that she wanted to know if I’d had dinner. At that point I wondered if she was going to invite me, but no such thing happened. She just wanted to chat. She added that I should study Vietnamese harder and seemed discouraged at my lack of progress. I smiled, told her that I would, and went home.

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