I do not pretend to know all that went on, nor do I pretend to understand all the underlying significance of what I saw. But, the Mystery Guest Blogger and I were honored to witness the countryside funeral of the elderly grandmother of one of our young Vietnamese friends. What follows are just my impressions, and I warmly welcome any comments by Vietnamese readers.
Outside of Huê is the village of Tuân. (The name is misspelled here because the system will not
tolerate the diacritical marks needed for correct pronunciation.) Near the Perfume River, it is an archetypical Vietnamese village populated by hard working farmers. In the immediate area outside the usual concrete home, chairs and tables were set out for the many visitors. Like funerals anywhere, it is a gathering of family and friends, and a time for recalling the old times. In one of the rooms in the house, the casket, flanked 
by family members, is on display. It is expected that visitors will light incense and offer prayers for the dead. The two of us offered our prayers as well, in our own faith, but in accordance with Vietnamese custom by placing incense in front of the casket, then praying aloud while bowing three times. The normal family altar is seen on the right side of the image, but it is not where prayers for the dead were offered.
In the countryside, funeral “arrangements” are not handled by a funeral home. Rather, the village leaders take over many of the functions done by a western funeral home, such as arranging for music, the Buddhist monk, and a casket. Obviously, the viewing of the casket is done in the family home. Remember that multiple generations live in the same house, so the elderly seldom live by themselves as they do in the west.
Outside the house is an area set aside for ceremony. Notice the white gauze over clothes worn by
the mourners. These are for blood relatives only – in this case, the deceased’s son
was in white, but his wife was not. The young people are blood kin, so they too wear white mourning clothes. (Picky detail: the clothes seem to have a bluish tinge to them – it was caused by a blue plastic canopy that was strung overhead as a shield against the sun.) Accompanying the ceremony was plaintive music supplied by four musicians in appropriate black garb.
A Vietnamese funeral seems both more formal, yet more relaxed than a western
funeral. Yes, there seemed to be strict protocol to follow, yet while the ceremony was going on, others were at nearby tables chatting with friends. I didn’t find this distracting nor 
disrespectful – just different. The ceremony conducted by the Buddhist monk went on for the best part of an hour. Note the wireless microphone he is using. The loudspeakers were set up in front of the house.
This 85 year old woman is the deceased person’s sister. The MGB took this shot of her being lovingly spoken to by our hostess. It was a warm and wonderful display of affection.
The actual internment was to happen the next morning at 5AM. A specially gifted person in the village was consulted as to the best time for burial, and 5AM was it. Unfortunately, we missed it – not because of the hour, but rather because it was raining heavily.
And life goes on.
(Note: I apologize for the lack of postings lately. My laptop has died, and with two of us trying to use the MGB’s computer, my leisure-use computer time is thin.)
