My grandmother and mother started each day at about 5 in the morning, even before the rooster crowed. We did not have electricity, but my mother always woke us up gently and quietly taking us to walk outside to smell the air fresh with the morning dew, and to look up at the last fading morning stars.
In those days, most women told children that “Early to rise, early to bed will make you smart and healthy.” I always enjoyed school, and even though our living standards were simple, I do not remember any childhood sickness causing me to miss school days. Each day I came home from school around 1:30 p.m. to greet my grandmother, who would always be sitting on a Vietnamese “divan” made of solid mahogany, where, instead of taking an afternoon nap, she would prepare her own snack of betel nut to chew as a form of relaxation after several hours of busy house work.
Beside her, hanging from one of the big round mahogany house pillars, was a big calendar written in three languages: French, traditional Vietnamese characters and the modern Romanized Vietnamese script. Every day she asked me to read the modern Vietnamese part, which included the phases of the moon, poems related to the three traditional religions of Vietnam (Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism), and practical advice for the activities of the day. Many times the advice seemed very repetitious: today “don’t go east;” tomorrow “don’t go west;” another day “don’t go south;’ and on yet another “don’t go north.” I read these to her, but never asked her the question that I kept secretly in my mind: “How come there are so many days when it says that no matter in which direction you go, you may encounter bad luck or problems or some kind of obstacle?” The only good days to go out were days of the new moon, the quarter moon and the full moon. Full moon days were particularly auspicious for going to the temple, and many of the 10 days per month that our Buddhist practice call for eating only vegetarian food were concentrated around the time of the full moon. Not only was our diet to be vegetarian at the time of the full moon, but we were also to do good deeds both to other people and to other sentient beings (by freeing birds, fishes, shrimp, turtles, etc.)
My ancestors must have had good visual taste, choosing a beautiful area for their new homestead when they came as pioneers to southern Vietnam to settle and clear land for farming. When the women in my household wanted to relax, or my grandpa wanted to make poems and play musical instruments, they would sit in front of the house looking out on the vast green rice fields far beyond. In the distance were rows and rows of bamboo and water palm trees along the small river. From time to time cranes would visit this tranquil area of my childhood homestead. Oh how I remember the wonderful and pretty sight of several dozen of them with the white wings landing or flying gracefully, framed by the brilliant red flowers of the two large flame trees in front of the house, and set off by the beautiful blue sky filled with white fluffy clouds.
Adults told me the cranes (which I later learned were Eastern Sarus cranes) were about my height, with a wing span equal to the length of the outstretched arms of a 7-year old girl like me. They came to the fields to glean left over rice kernels, aquatic plants, small crabs, snails, fish, etc. Farmers and land owners considered them to be sacred birds. Not only did they loosen up the soil filled with dead rice roots, they also ate harmful insects, field rats and mice. (In those days, this delta region was the most productive rice growing area of Vietnam, which itself was the second largest rice exporting country in the world!) Local people really believe the common saying “Đất Lành Chim Đậu” would apply to our area. This means “Sacred cranes will come and stay if there is good soil and water and food.” It was a bad omen for the people if they disappeared or did not come. I always enjoyed watching their many elegant, slow trance-like strutting, followed by leaps and spinning movements. Observing the courtship tango–like dance of these birds, with their meticulous preening, arched necks and very low gracious bows, and hearing their loud unison calls and synchronized duets as they reaffirmed their faithful life-long pair-bonding and attempted to firm up their territorial boundaries was like having a seat in nature’s temple. The Vietnamese viewed these acts as a “Thank You” to Heaven, to Earth and to each other.
If for many days or weeks my grandma did not see any cranes on the rice fields, she would ask me to count the number of days until the full moon, when she could go to the temple. It was in anticipation of the happy full moon day at the temple that helped her control her cabin fever and restless impulse to go to other places. At the temple she could hear sermons, chanting and praying; see many pretty bonsai, topiary, exotic plants and flowers; enjoy social chats with old and new friends; and taste delicious varieties of vegetarian cuisine. She and my mother would also hear the latest news about rice prices, who had left the village to join the Liberation Front or who had left to join the French or the warlords in the cities. I heard adults in the family discuss to whom they would be selling rice, and how they firmly agreed not to sell rice to the Binh Xuyen warlords who cooperated with the French officials and Chinese merchants who operated the prostitution, alcohol, opium and gambling houses in Saigon. Employment and profits from these activities were contrary to their Buddhist and patriotic viewpoint.
It was only later, when I had a chance to read more about many complex Vietnamese customs, that I realized that the Vietnamese intellectuals, the wise men in a position to influence public behavior and to shape their life styles in relation to resource management for the benefit of the nation, had created these popular calendars to remind the common folks to venerate the three timeless Asian belief systems: Confucianism Buddhism, and Taoism. They hoped the public would believe strongly in the teachings of these traditions, making people’s lives happier, more economical and moral by restraining the constant human impulses to be too busy with the world outside the home environment while neglecting domestic chores and self-improvement – attitudes which could lead to a lot of useless emotional and physical energy as well as waste of natural resources. As such the freedom of the self as well as of the nation would be lost and the nation would more easily be dominated by foreign powers. At that time the leaders understood the mismatch between Western and traditional Vietnamese culture, and were also concerned to avoid Chinese domination over the rich natural resources of Vietnam. This determination to be independent from external influences in order to gain national sovereignty led to a paradigm of the ordering of the prestige of various careers, captured in the popular phrase “nhat si, nhi nong, tam cong, tu thuong” (first scholars and teachers; second agriculture and farmers; third craftsmen and technicians, fourth merchants and businessmen). These ideas were promoted heavily when I was young at school age.
As a school teacher during the Vietnam war, my ambition to do my job well and my eagerness to learn and to improve my skills led me to accept a scholarship to study in the U.S., which ultimately led me to marry an American and settle in this country. My experiences were broadened by the opportunity of travelling with my husband to live for extended periods in various Asian countries. As I found that no culture had a perfect solution to organizing human society, I came to realize that the technologically advanced American culture was not necessarily doing any better than my traditional Vietnamese culture. To solve my personal dilemma as a citizen, I take my own stand regarding ethical values of life style and environmental issues. I feel more comfortable, honest, practical and true to myself when I go back to the values of my upbringing in figuring out how to behave in ways that reduce my sins in this earthly life. Overall, I feel it is healthy, efficient, economical and pleasurable when I take responsibility for decisions about my own life, rather than being busy going here and there to follow the ideas of peer groups or politicians. As a result, I try to focus my attention on things that link to the experiences and values of my youth. Among other things, I became interested in learning more about cranes, and their relationship to Buddhist ideas.
For several thousand years, Vietnamese and other Asian cultures have personified the character of cranes, writing many poems, stories, music, paintings and proverbs to venerate their beautiful, faithful, dignified human-like mannerisms, and to convey magical good wishes for a long and happy life to people of all ages. The image of the crane is used as an icon for all kinds of physical things and ideas: wedding dresses, household decorative items, gift packages, promotion of healthy vegetarian food, environmental concerns, and peace advocacy. In many Asian Buddhist settings, especially in Vietnam, the statues of two cranes standing still with folded wings on the lotus pond are used to represent the Buddhist teachings of tranquility, contentment, no restlessness, no duality, no greed or desire or disturbed emotion, no arrogance, and therefore no need for showy displays – all of which represent the state of Samadhi which is an ideal state of union between humans and the larger cosmic world. This state of mind can help make life’s journey on this earth much smoother, happier, more peaceful and less sinful. Asians believe the cranes cart our souls under their wings.
In my readings about Buddhist wisdom, I encountered a magical story related to those sacred birds that played such an important symbolic role in my cultural upbringing. During the 1960s, when the war in Vietnam was raging, U Thant of Burma, who was the Secretary-General of the United Nations, cooperated with a Japanese architect to design the Sacred Garden in Lumbini, Nepal, where Prince Siddhartha Gautama (the Buddha) was born about 560 BCE. The idea was to create a place of pilgrimage so that people from all over the world could come to learn and appreciate the teaching of Buddha, thereby promoting peace and harmony among the nations.
At first this project did not progress very far. There is a Vietnamese saying: “When the time is right, every person and nation on this earth will have a chance to experience days of sunshine and days of darkness.” It was not until 1978 that the little-known Vietnamese Dr. Lam Trung Quoc (who was also a Buddhist monk known as Venerable Thich Huyen Dieu), a graduate of the Sorbonne in France and a professor of history and international relations, went on a pilgrimage to the Nepalese Lumbini Garden. On this trip he felt deeply in his heart that the Lumbini project could be carried out further. He was given permission by the Nepalese king to build a Vietnamese temple on 4 acres of land next to the historical pillar and eternal flame located where Prince Siddhartha was born on a full moon day. His faith, sincere attitude and skill in managing to build the first foreign Buddhist temple with a beautiful Vietnamese Buddhist architectural design helped bring more tourist income and positive activities to the local economy. Then one day, out of nowhere, two huge Eastern Sarus Cranes landed in his monastery for shelter. This unexpected but propitious event generated considerable publicity, not just in Nepal but all over the world, because during the 20th century, cranes had become endangered due to the activities of humans (including the wartime destruction of important breeding areas in the Plain of Reeds in the Mekong delta region of Vietnam, not far from where I grew up). The arrival of the cranes in Lumbini resulted in increased support, especially in many Buddhist countries, for Dr. Quoc’s campaign to promote the Nepalese Lumbini project. Today there are 15 countries, mostly in Asia, whose governments have been proud to build Buddhist temples, using their finest architectural designs, in the Lumbini garden. There are now international schemes to promote tourism for world peace, the study of Buddhism, and, through the activities of the International Crane Foundation, research and education about cranes and the preservation of the world’s natural environment.
I believe that as has been true throughout human history, the sacred magical life of cranes, the yearning of human inner intelligence and the innate goodwill of responsible citizen groups from all over the world, will, when the time is right or urgent enough, align together to spread the message of Peace, Humanity and Moral rightness to the people for their own benefit for self-preservation. I hope the Nepalese Lumbini gardens will flourish for the sake of future generations, which include my grandchildren – the great-grandchildren of the woman who helped instill in me the traditional values of Vietnam that led me to appreciate Buddhism, cranes and the natural world.
Loan ANh, Pháp danh: Diệu Liên (This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.)
