Uncle Buddha

The majority of Vietnamese are Buddhist, and one of the highlights of our trip has been our visits to various pagodas where Vietnamese burn incense, make offerings of fruit or money, and pray to various gods (some of them even being Buddha).

 

 

 

It’s amazing how many different gods there are in this culture. In fact, one visit to a pagoda can require three or four different offerings and prayers. (Seems much easier to channel all that energy into one god, but who am I to say?) I asked a tour guide why there were so many Buddha, and he told me that anyone can be a Buddha. A pagoda can be erected to any number of gods if those gods are worthy of prayer.

Brian made the observation that the Buddhism practiced here is a combination of the ancestor worship of old and classical Buddhism. It bears little resemblance to the austere, ascetic Buddhism of Nepal or India where the goal is to not be attached to earthly things.  A lack of earthly possessions is a sign of enlightenment.  Here, the only reason for Buddha is to provide things.  One prays to Buddha not for enlightenment but for steady income, food, luck, health, and male children.

Prior to the advent of Buddhism here, Vietnamese prayed to ancestors for intercession, burning incense at the entrance of their homes to the spirits who ward away evil or setting up shrines to deceased family members to ensure good harvests.  These practices still exist. One man we met prays to his dead father twice a day, for example. Buddhism arrived and provided a way to further deify the dead through an even greater ancestor.

It’s a sound theory, especially when viewed in light of Ho Chi Minh. Uncle Ho may as well be Jesus Christ in Vietnam, the way he is revered. His presence as the country’s savior is everywhere – billboards, statues, names of streets, pagodas, etc. We visited his mausoleum in Hanoi where his body is preserved and displayed. It was a sacred experience, to say the least. We were stripped of all of our belongings and expediently herded into a single file to walk into the crypt.

Four guards in their white military uniforms stood at the four corners of his tomb, and other guards were posted at strategic points to ensure silence and respect. As we walked past the body, framed by the red hammer and sickle of communism and the red flag of Vietnam, Vietnamese prayed to Ho Chi Minh’s spirit. It was such an austere environment that it engendered a sense of respect in me – I was scolded for crossing my arms over my chest and hands in pockets was completely taboo. Shorts and tank tops were strictly forbidden.  One would be arrested for taking a photo and cameras were confiscated at the entrance.  Seeing the way a culture venerates one of its leaders, while completely foreign to me as an American, is somewhat inspiring. And while I’m not jumping on the idea of Uncle Ho as a god, his reconstructionist-history benevolent presence is a familiar landmark throughout our travels in this country.