A beautiful, dying
village
More than a
hundred years old, a village in the Central Highlands
Potual (clowns) dance and make fun at a festival of Kon So Lal
Village in
A simple, lonely
beauty.
This is a
description of Kon So Lal Village that I have heard all too frequently of
late.
There is more than
an aesthetic or poetic reason for the village being described thus.
Located about 50
kilometers to the north of Pleiku Town, the village, once home to nearly 100
Ba Na ethnic minority families who lived in traditional stilt houses, stands
almost abandoned after its residents moved more than 10 years go to a new
place about three kilometers away, into concrete houses with metal roofs,
with power and water supply.
I visited the
“old” Kon So Lal a few weeks ago.
Situated next to a
forest in Ha Tay Commune, the village looked like an outdoor architectural
museum surrounded by jackfruit, star fruit, and star gooseberry trees.
It has no
electricity, no shops and restaurants, but more than 50 stilt houses with
thatched roofs and walls made with a mixture of mud and straw that stand as
monuments to a rapidly disappearing way of life.
In the middle of
the village is a common house bigger than the others with a grayish roof that
looks like a giant upturned boat.
According to some
news reports, the house was built in 1978.
Having seen a
number of Ba Na villages, I believe Kon So Lal has the most original and
beautiful architectural features.
A feeling of peace
descended as I stood in the village, hearing nothing but the chirping of
birds, the grunting of pigs and hens cackling somewhere nearby.
But the peace was
accompanied by sadness. When I visited, there were just four people aged
70-80 years living in the village.
Their children and
grandchildren were living in the new place, but raised their pigs and chicken
in the old village, and would visit the elders from time to time.
One of the
residents, 80-year-old Chung, was sharpening bamboo to weave baskets, with
his two-year-old grandchild by his side.
When he saw me, he
invited me in for a drink, and performed with the goong – a string instrument
traditionally used by ethnic minority communities in Kon Tum and Gia Lai
provinces. The music was sad, as if the performer were trying to convince his
guest to stay longer in the lonely village.
Dinh Suk, chairman
of Ha Tay Commune, who is nearly 60, said he does not know exactly when the
village was founded.
“All I know is
that it was already here during my grandparents’ time, so it must be more
than 100 years old. The village used to have 85 families with 454 members,
but they moved to the new village for electricity and clean water,” he said.
“I feel sad about
the old village, but I do not know what to do about it.”
Traditions remain
While they have
moved to a new place for their creature comforts, Kon So Lal residents still
observe their customs and keep their traditions alive.
If you visit Kon
So Lal on the occasion of some festival, you will be treated to entertaining
performances by the potual (clowns) who dance and make fun
during all Ba Na’s festivals and other cultural events – whether it is one
celebrating a new crop, or a post funeral gathering.
The potual put on a yellowish mixture of clay
and water on their body, face and even hair. Their clothes are made with
weeping fig roots, or old sacks.
As protagonists or
extras, they are part of every cultural event because people believe that
their presence helps lessen people’s sadness and loss in the face of
separation and increase people’s happiness about a good crop.
“It is probably a
unique cultural characteristic of Ba Na people,” Dinh Suk said.
However, I
wondered if the tradition could survive for long, if the old village is
itself on the brink of oblivion.
I thought: If
provincial authorities could tie preservation efforts to tourism, would the
village get a second, sustainable lease of life?
We can only hope.
Thanh Nien
News
|
Thứ Sáu, 3 tháng 1, 2014
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