Water source

VHXQ - Sacred forest, where the first drops of water seep through the cracks in the rocks, gather to form a stream, and then become a spring that flows into a great river.

Ca Dong people attend the water trough worship ceremony. Photo: PHUONG GIANG

The water in the forest initiates life, brings about harvests, and continues through generations as a unique belief, a form of worship. Lessons longer than a person's lifetime unfold from this water…

Water trough worship ceremony

The road leading to Tak Nam village (hamlet 3, formerly Tra Don commune, now Nam Tra My commune) is as thin as a vine winding through the mountains. Early in the morning, with dew still clinging to the leaves, the villagers had already gathered in large numbers at the entrance to the village. That day was the water trough worship ceremony.

The water trough worship ceremony has long been an important annual ritual for the Ca Dong and Xo Dang ethnic communities in Nam Tra My. Village elder Vo Hong Duong said that the water trough worship is like a New Year's Day for the Ca Dong people, marking the transition between the old year and the new year.

However, this festival is usually confined to a single village. Each village holds its water trough worship ceremony at different times, between December and February of the following year. “The water trough worship ceremony is to thank the heavens and the gods for blessing the villagers. It is also an occasion to give thanks for a bountiful harvest, the villagers' health, and a peaceful and safe life for the entire village,” said village elder Vo Hong Duong.

Along the village road, a group of young men were carrying bamboo tubes freshly cut from the forest. The straight, vibrant green bamboo tubes were carefully hung about a meter above the ground. These bamboo tubes were considered "sacred objects" used to bring water back to the village after religious ceremonies.

Water plays a very important role in the lives of people in the highlands. Photo: ALĂNG NGƯỚC

I watched as they meticulously tied each strand of rattan, carefully adjusting each end of the pipe, every action performed in silence. No words, no prompting. The rules, passed down through generations from their fathers, grandfathers, and predecessors, resonated within them. Practice and continuation…

In another corner, women were pounding rice, the rhythmic sound of pestles echoing. The rice was selected from the new harvest for the offering to the water god. Rice wine was brewed in advance in each house; the aroma of the wine mingled with the kitchen smoke, becoming richer and warmer as it was offered to the water god.

When the ceremony began, the entire village made their way to the forest. The path leading to the source was a familiar one, a path passed down through generations. They walked under the large roof of the community: the forest. The place of the ceremony was just a small stream. The water was crystal clear and cool. The village elder placed a bamboo pipe in the stream, carefully guiding the water to flow through it. At the end of the pipe, the stem had been skillfully trimmed and bulged like a flower. When the first drop of water flowed into the pipe, everyone bowed their heads.

"The water has returned, the new year has arrived," a young Ca Dong man standing beside me finally spoke. The solemnity of the community's ritual at the small stream served as a reminder of the Ca Dong and Xe Dang people's attitude towards the forest, their respect and gratitude towards the forest and water spirits.

The village elder said that customary law stipulates that no one is allowed to encroach upon or indiscriminately cut down trees at the source of the water. If they break the law, they must pay a fine to the village in the form of chickens or pigs, and must reflect on their actions and accept responsibility for harming the lifeline that sustains the entire village…

Following the tide on the mountain

The Co Tu people believe that each stream has its own soul. Village elder Y Kong (Song Vang commune) said that many areas are named after rivers and streams, such as Kon River and Vang River.

Water is the lifeblood of the people in the mountainous regions. Photo: Sedang people cultivating terraced rice fields in the Ngoc Linh mountain forest.

The stream was there before people, there since the ancestors of the community, so people must always be grateful for the water source. Like a map in their minds, wherever there is water, there will be people. Wherever water is preserved, a village will be formed.

Like many other ethnic groups, water plays an extremely important role in the mindset and life of the Co Tu people in the western part of Quang Nam province. Even small groups venturing into the forest to find honey, collect rattan, fish, or catch mountain frogs always try to set up camp and rest near a water source.

I had the opportunity to accompany Alang Lai, a young man from Song Kon commune, into the forest. Lai paused for a few seconds before a stream, softly prayed, and then tilted the container he was carrying to collect water. Lai said that the water belonged to the forest, to the gods, and that anything taken from the forest had to be asked; it couldn't be done arbitrarily. He asked to remember the blessings he received from the forest, from heaven and earth.

During nights spent by the fire with the Co Tu people, I heard the village elder say that the raging floods of recent years were the wrath of the forest.

There were unprecedentedly devastating floods. They served as a reminder that the gods were angry, the price to pay for humanity's insatiable greed in encroaching on the forest. They were a lesson learned through years of drought or devastating crop failures caused by flash floods… And they were also a reminder from the village elders, a prophecy about how to treat Mother Forest with love and reverence.

In his collection of essays "My Friends Up There," writer Nguyen Ngoc mentioned "freshwater," a type of water that "oozes from the foothills of the sand dunes, crystal clear, cool, and so pure that you can cup it in your hand and drink it immediately with relish."

A ritual to pray for good fortune from the gods by taking the first drops of water from the source. Photo: THIEN TUNG

He spoke of water in the sandy land, how tiny drops of water created immense life at the end of the stream. And the source of that water was far above—in the forest.

The springs of the highlands are not just natural entities, but always present as a reminder: the green forest gives birth to water, carefully collecting every drop to flow into the river, the river nourishes the green banks downstream, and sustains countless lives at the end of its course.

The fertility of the lowlands is partly due to the silent contribution of the tiny streams in the middle of the Truong Son mountain range. The people of the highlands, more than anyone else, understood this firsthand, as a matter of course. They lived with their unique reverence for Mother Forest, knowing how to cherish and preserve the source, carefully conserving every drop of water from the upstream.

Bowing down before a single drop of water from the source, we learn the humility of the highlanders, and become grateful to the Trường Sơn forests, grateful to the "Mother" who for millions of years has carefully nurtured every drop of water for the plains...

Source: https://baodanang.vn/nuoc-nguon-3312314.html