Ngọc Lũ drum (2)

 

Photos by Nguyên Việt

The Ngọc Lũ drum is regarded as one of the most important and prominent artifacts of the Dong Son culture of the Bronze Age, a civilisation that flourished in around the 2nd to 3rd century BCE in the Red River Delta of Vietnam. The high level of importance placed on it by historians and archaeologists is due to its well preserved and richly decorated nature.^[1]

The drum was accidentally discovered in 1893 in Ha Nam Province, southeast of Hanoi, rather than during a planned expedition. In contrast to most other drums of the Dong Son, the tympanum bears three concentric panels, which depict animals or humans, interleaved with bands of geometric or circular patterns. The innermost panel appears to be a self-referencing depiction, as it is decorated with pictures of humans who appear to be performing a ceremony involving the drums themselves. Other musical instruments and rice growing and harvesting activities are also shown. The two outer panels are decorated with scenes of deer, hornbills and crane egrets.^[1]

The inner panel repeats itself, despite the presence of minor variations. The scenes are the subject of multiple interpreatitions, but a prominent motif is that of a row of figures who appear to be male. They are plumed, and led by a man holding a spear that is directed towards the ground. He is followed in the line by five more men, at least two of whom appear to playing musical instruments. One appears to be playing a khen and either cymbals or bells, while another holds a wand-like object in his left hand. The men are wearing a type of kilt and highly feathered headgear, which includes a figure in the shape of a bird's head.^[1]

Ahead of the leader, there is some sort of a structure that is supported by stilts with either decorated timber walls or some sort of streamers held at the eaves. A board of gongs is being percussed by a person wearing a kilt, but is not wearing a feathered headdress. Three people depicted beyond the house also do not have any headwear, with two having long hair and another with bun tied hair. Two of the people are depicted threshing rice with a pole ornamented with feathers, while the other is shooing away a hornbill. A house is depicted beyond them which has decorated posts erected at a sharp angle, close to vertical, which is decorated with what appears to be feathers or streamers. The ends of the gables are further decorated with birds' heads. There are three people depicted inside the house, possibly playing percussion instruments.^[1]

There is also a scene where one standing person and three seated people are brandishing long poles that appear to be used to strike a row of drums placed in front of them. This scene is repeated with a few variations. In one scene the drums are all of identical size, while in the others their sizes are sequenced. One percussionist uses one striking device, while another uses two for each hand. There are further variations of this scene with seated and standing percussionists.^[1]

Archaeologists are agreed that the scene is likely to depict a festival or ritual of some kind, with the musicians appearing to be part of a parade. The feathered men contrast with those depicted in the house, who have unkempt hair and appear to be female. The decoration on the mantle of the drum depicts plumed warriors in a procession of elegant pirogues with decorated timbers. Birds' heads are found on their headgear, the ends of their water transport vessels and even the rudder.^[1]

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Ngọc Lũ drum

 

Photos by Nguyên Việt 

The Ngọc Lũ drum is regarded as one of the most important and prominent artifacts of the Dong Son culture of the Bronze Age, a civilisation that flourished in around the 2nd to 3rd century BCE in the Red River Delta of Vietnam. The high level of importance placed on it by historians and archaeologists is due to its well preserved and richly decorated nature.^[1]

The drum was accidentally discovered in 1893 in Ha Nam Province, southeast of Hanoi, rather than during a planned expedition. In contrast to most other drums of the Dong Son, the tympanum bears three concentric panels, which depict animals or humans, interleaved with bands of geometric or circular patterns. The innermost panel appears to be a self-referencing depiction, as it is decorated with pictures of humans who appear to be performing a ceremony involving the drums themselves. Other musical instruments and rice growing and harvesting activities are also shown. The two outer panels are decorated with scenes of deer, hornbills and crane egrets.^[1]

The inner panel repeats itself, despite the presence of minor variations. The scenes are the subject of multiple interpreatitions, but a prominent motif is that of a row of figures who appear to be male. They are plumed, and led by a man holding a spear that is directed towards the ground. He is followed in the line by five more men, at least two of whom appear to playing musical instruments. One appears to be playing a khen and either cymbals or bells, while another holds a wand-like object in his left hand. The men are wearing a type of kilt and highly feathered headgear, which includes a figure in the shape of a bird's head.^[1]

Ahead of the leader, there is some sort of a structure that is supported by stilts with either decorated timber walls or some sort of streamers held at the eaves. A board of gongs is being percussed by a person wearing a kilt, but is not wearing a feathered headdress. Three people depicted beyond the house also do not have any headwear, with two having long hair and another with bun tied hair. Two of the people are depicted threshing rice with a pole ornamented with feathers, while the other is shooing away a hornbill. A house is depicted beyond them which has decorated posts erected at a sharp angle, close to vertical, which is decorated with what appears to be feathers or streamers. The ends of the gables are further decorated with birds' heads. There are three people depicted inside the house, possibly playing percussion instruments.^[1]

There is also a scene where one standing person and three seated people are brandishing long poles that appear to be used to strike a row of drums placed in front of them. This scene is repeated with a few variations. In one scene the drums are all of identical size, while in the others their sizes are sequenced. One percussionist uses one striking device, while another uses two for each hand. There are further variations of this scene with seated and standing percussionists.^[1]

Archaeologists are agreed that the scene is likely to depict a festival or ritual of some kind, with the musicians appearing to be part of a parade. The feathered men contrast with those depicted in the house, who have unkempt hair and appear to be female. The decoration on the mantle of the drum depicts plumed warriors in a procession of elegant pirogues with decorated timbers. Birds' heads are found on their headgear, the ends of their water transport vessels and even the rudder.^[1]

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Bodhidharma

Photos by Uyên Nguyên / Hoa Đàm

Bodhidharma was a Buddhist monk from southern India who lived during the early 5th century and is traditionally credited as the transmitter of Zen (Chinese: Chán) to China.

Very little contemporary biographical information on Bodhidharma is extant, and subsequent accounts became layered with legend, but most accounts agree that he was from the southern region of India, born as a prince to a royal family. Bodhidharma left his kingdom after becoming a Buddhist monk and travelled through Southeast Asia into Southern China and subsequently relocated northwards. The accounts differ on the date of his arrival, with one early account claiming that he arrived during the Liú Sòng Dynasty (420–479) and later accounts dating his arrival to the Liáng Dynasty (502–557). Bodhidharma was primarily active in the lands of the Northern Wèi Dynasty (386–534). Modern scholarship dates him to about the early 5th century.[1]

Throughout Buddhist art, Bodhidharma is depicted as a rather ill-tempered, profusely bearded and wide-eyed barbarian. He is described as "The Blue-Eyed Barbarian" 藍眼睛的野人 (lán yǎnjīngde yěrén) in Chinese texts.[2]

The Anthology of the Patriarchal Hall (952) identifies Bodhidharma as the 28th Patriarch of Buddhism in an uninterrupted line that extends all the way back to the Buddha himself. D.T. Suzuki contends that Chán's growth in popularity during the 7th and 8th centuries attracted criticism that it had "no authorized records of its direct transmission from the founder of Buddhism" and that Chán historians made Bodhidharma the 28th patriarch of Buddhism in response to such attacks.[3]

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Long Beach, California

Photos by Nguyên Việt / Hoa Đàm

Long Beach is a large city located in southern California, USA, on the Pacific coast. It is situated in Los Angeles County, about 20 miles (32 km) south of downtown Los Angeles. Long Beach borders Orange County on its southeast edge.

Long Beach is the 36th-largest city in the nation and the sixth-largest in California. As of January 1, 2009, its estimated population was 492,682.[1] In addition, Long Beach is the 2nd largest city within the Los Angeles metropolitan area. The city completely surrounds the city of Signal Hill.

The Port of Long Beach is one of the world's largest shipping ports.[2] The city also has a large oil industry; oil is found both underground and offshore. Manufacturers include aircraft, automobile parts, electronic and audiovisual equipment, and home furnishings. It is also home to headquarters for corporations such as Epson America, Molina Healthcare, and SCAN Health Plan. Long Beach has grown with the development of high-technology and aerospace industries in the area. [ From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia ]

Grace in Receiving

Photos by Hoa Đàm

I learned a lot about receiving when I was a monk.

I lived as a Buddhist monk without money for 17 years – where everything I consumed (apart from water and toothpaste) actually had to be put into my hands – I couldn’t go shopping for myself, or raid the refrigerator. We could only eat between dawn and noon, and weren’t allowed to store any food. It was an amazing thing – a whole system designed to help you to let go and be with life as it unfolded, and let go of pulling to get this and pushing to get rid of that.

Learning to live monastic life with some understanding and balance took many years, but when it was lived with grace and dignity it was beautiful.

The Buddhist monastic rule was set up this way by the Buddha – so that the monks would always be dependent on the lay-people for their sustenance. We weren’t allowed to grow food either. So the tradition was that every day you’d go out at dawn with your alms bowl, and the villagers would be waiting as you walked silently through their village to drop a small ball of rice into your bowl, or a banana or piece of dried fish, as you passed by. In this way you’d gather enough to eat for the day.

This meant that the monks had to live in a way which embodied the teachings of the Buddha – they had to be dignified, serene and calm and exemplify the Buddha’s teachings. Otherwise the lay-people wouldn’t feed them.

So it gradually dawned upon me that these people who came to the monasteries, sometimes every day they would come, sometimes every week or once a month, they did so to connect with their own religious aspiration, to give expression to their own yearning for Truth – however that manifested for them. And one very tangible way they did that was to ask you “Venerable Sir, is there anything you need?”

Now monks were also not allowed to ask for things - you couldn’t just say “we’ve run out of this, could you get me that?”. You had to wait until someone made invitation. When someone said “is there anything you need?” you were then allowed indicate what your needs were.

In truth we lived in great abundance. People gave so much to the monasteries we almost always had too much stuff – we would give away soap and toothpaste, towels, cleaning products, rice, the things we just had too much of – we’d give it away to hospitals and charities. So it wasn’t often that you needed anything.

In this situation, I noticed that some monks, when asked this “Is there anything you need?” they would say “No, not really, thanks – I don’t really need anything…” Like most of us they’d been brought up with this feeling that it’s good to be self-sufficient, and not be wasteful. If you have everything you need, then why ask for more?

But to my mind, it didn’t quite work like that. There was something else going on.

When someone asked that question, they were asking for the opportunity to participate in your life as a monk, and to connect more profoundly to their own spiritual aspiration, through associating with you – who were living the Buddha’s teaching full-time.

So if they asked that question”is there anything you need” and you said “No thanks, I don’t need anything right now…” it was like you were shutting a door in their face, and they’d feel a bit rejected and denied the opportunity to participate in your life as a monk.

So when I saw that, I realized that it wasn’t about me and my needs – it was about something bigger. And my part in this was to enable my life to be used by them as a conduit to the spiritual dimension, and I could be generous myself by always welcoming that gesture and allowing it to be consummated.

In fact there were always things we collectively needed – such as postage stamps, or razorblades. So even if I didn’t need these things myself, I had an answer I could give them: “well – I could use some stamps, and some razor blades would be very helpful…” and you could see that this is just what they wanted – an opportunity to go off to seek out and buy these little things, and then come back and make their offering. And if you took the trouble to open that door for them, they would be uplifted and grateful for the opportunity to serve, to give, to connect.

So whenever I received something in this way, I would always make sure I made use of the thing they had given – even just a little bit – just one postage stamp or a razor blade – or if I was given a tee-shirt, I would wear it once before washing it and putting it into the communal store for someone else to use at some stage. Consummating their act of generosity felt important – so that when they said “how was the tee-shirt?” you could honestly say “oh, it’s really nice, I’ve been wearing it” (rather than pretend, or say “oh, I just put it into the stores…”)

It’s interesting – this giving and receiving thing.

I think in Western cultures we so much emphasize our independence and individuality that it gets way out of proportion - we hate the idea of dependence somehow, and yet we are totally interdependent – participating in a constantly changing dynamic matrix of exchanging – giving and receiving all the time. Sure, the mail man gets paid to deliver the mail, and the bank teller gets paid to do her job, but with just a little extra attention these ordinary transactions with people (whether you are the mailman, the bank teller, the mailman’s customer or the bank’s customer) can be beautiful – it just takes attention and a little kindness – and we all know this! But how easily we get into righteousness when things are not up to our expectations….. sad really.

Money itself is just a symbol for human energy – so when you start to see all these transactions as ways in which we exchange our human energy, then you can consider “how do we lift this up and dignify it, make it beautiful…?” It doesn’t take much to say a kind word, express appreciation, or acknowledge what we have received from someone, or make it possible for them to help us. When we fail to do this we miss many opportunities.

I lived for a few years firstly in Japan, then latterly in Thailand and Sri Lanka, and in Eastern cultures they tend much more readily to perceive themselves not so much as individuals first, but as part of something bigger, part of a company, part of a family, part of a club, primarily as belonging, as being plugged into a network – organically. And when you are part of something larger than you, you are more aware of having duties and responsibilities towards others, and because others perceive you as belonging, there is a sense of their reciprocal commitment to you which you are held by and supported by. And they seem to have so much joy and fun in groups – always teasing each other in a very affectionate and friendly way and helping one another. Being in a group of Thais, sometimes it felt like they were acting as one organism – a bit like watching starlings swirling as they fly in formation – it was amazing to see human beings just doing this together, energetically connected, silently flowing with what was happening, rather than the hard-edged western way of “Who are you to tell Me what to do?”. Of course it wasn’t always like that, and westerners can harmonize too – it’s not so black and white. But giving and receiving are the fundamental things we do with each other all the time, and nobody much talks about how receiving can be beautiful too.

So I would go out on the morning alms-round in Sri Lanka and Thailand, and it really affected me. As I walked at dawn, barefoot, enveloped in my saffron robes, eyes downcast, going along the empty city streets, stopping here and there as people came up wanting to put things into my bowl, it was a very moving experience to be able to touch the lives of these people in such a beautiful way.

Receiving with grace is beautiful. It allows an opportunity to someone who wants to give, and it blesses both the giver and receiver, and in some small way it beautifies the world.

Written for Zen Moments by Alan Lewis

Buddha Statue in "The Vietnamese Buddhist Youth Association in the United States - Compassion, Wisdom, Perseverence"

Ảnh - Hoa Đàm 2010