Vietnamese Folk Tale - Mosquito, Mosquito Mine

[FleurduJardin]

Note: These retellings of Vietnamese folk tales are copyrighted to M-C Luong. Please contact her for permission if you want to reproduce them elsewhere.

Mosquito, Mosquito Mine

Did you ever know how mosquitoes came about to buzz around, bite and bother us, and draw blood from us? According to Vietnamese folklore, this is how it happened.




Once upon a time there was a man called Tâm, a good, hard-working man who tilled his ricefields and bred silkworms while his wife Diêp tended the worms and sold the harvested thread.

Tâm, a simple man, was unaware that his pretty wife was very vain and dissatisfied with their life. She dreamed of an easy, idle existence, instead of this constant toiling. He, on the contrary, was happy with his lot and never even thought she could be otherwise. Truth to tell, he never thought much at all.

One day Diêp fell ill and died quite suddenly. Tâm was unconsolable. He could not let her go, he said, and chased away the friends and neighbors who came to help him bury her. He was not going to let his beloved wife be buried in the earth where she would be scared and cold and all alone.

He sold all his earthly possessions, took Diêp's body with him on a small boat and went wandering upon the waters looking for help. One morning he came to the foot of a hill covered with fragrant plants and flowers and all kinds of fruit-bearing trees. The air was so clear and bright that Tâm found himself leaving the boat and climbing light-stepped to the top of the hill. There he saw an old man leaning on a bamboo staff. Though his beard was snow-white and long, the man's face was unlined and his eyes sparkled with youthful life. Tâm realized he was in the presence of the Genie of Medicine. He fell to his knees and paid his respects.

"I have heard of all your virtues and hard work," said the Genie, "so I stopped my hill on your way. Is there anything you want from me?" Tâm said he just could not cope with the loss of his wife. He begged the Genie to revive her and let him resume his life with her. The Genie sighed. "You are a good and loving man, and I shall not deny your request", he said, "I just wish you will not have cause to regret this."

He directed Tâm to cut his little finger and let three drops of blood fall on his wife's corpse. As Tâm did so, Diêp's eyes fluttered open and she sat up, good as new. The couple embraced, thanked the good Genie, and went on their way.

They came back to their old village and managed to start their business again. Tâm had his happiness back, until one day he came home and learned that a rich silk merchant, who had stopped by to buy silk strands, had been struck by Diêp's beauty and had abducted her. "When it's not Death, it's a rich merchant," he thought. "Why can't fate leave us alone to live our lives in peace?"

He set out in pursuit and, after many weeks of searching, he found Diêp again in the silk merchant's palace. But by this time she had gotten used to her new life with a rich man. This indeed was the life she had always dreamed of, and she refused to come home.

Tâm at last saw his wife's true face. Heartbroken, but also angry, he told her "All right, stay here and see if I care. But I'll trouble you for my three drops of blood back, I don't want you to keep anything that's mine in this new life of yours."

Relieved that she was being let off so lightly, Diêp promptly fetched a knife and cut her finger. But as the three drops trickled from her, so did her life trickle away and she fell to the ground, dead.

However, the vain woman could not resign herself to leave this life. She came back in the shape of a small buzzing insect, looking to draw blood for Tâm or any other human being so that, by taking back again those three drops of blood, she can once more come to life as a woman. This accursed race bred and multiplied, the cause of much annoyance and much scratching - and many sleepless nights.

Author's Note: Whaddaya know, it's a woman's fault again! - But what do you expect? Men have been writing the legends, epics, and history itself. So from the start, between Pandora and her box, Eve and the apple (as if she force-fed poor innocent Adam, hey?) and all the legends including this one, woe comes to Mankind because of Womankind. The temptation was great to write a revisionist version, but intellectual honesty kept me from it, not to mention the fact that it IS the female mosquito that bites. But for those among you who don't mind a very irreverent and very revisionist version of Genesis, I recommend Harlan Ellison's "The Deathbird". In that novella, which got a Hugo Award in the 1970's, the Serpent is actually sent to the Garden of Eden to HELP Adam and Eve with the Tree of Knowledge, because Man and Woman had been given a rough deal in the cosmic lottery.

© Copyright M-C Luong, 2001

[FleurduJardin]

Note: These retellings of Vietnamese folk tales are copyrighted to M-C Luong. Please contact her for permission if you want to reproduce them elsewhere.

This story goes well with the one above, about the mosquito - Life, Death and Debt.


THE LITTLE COLT

Author's Note : Owing a debt, be it in an actual money or tradable goods, or a moral debt, is extremely important to the Vietnamese and, under pain of being reborn in the shape of a lowly animal or living in unhappiness in the next human life, one must do one's utmost to repay any favors owed, even after one's own death, and even if the debt was incurred after death - for, to the Vietnamese, death is not an end.
*
Once upon a time there was a kind farmer who was well to do if not actually wealthy, who was very generous and never refused to help his fellows in need. One day one of his neighbors, after a disastrous fire had devastated his crops, came to him and asked to borrow a sack of bean seeds, so he could replant his crop, promising to repay him as soon as he was able to.

"Of course, my dear Lôc, I'll give you the seeds you need," said he, "and take your time about repaying me, I am not in need of it right now." Lôc thanked his neighbor profusely and carted the heavy bag of seeds away. Before replanting, though, he went to a nearby village to buy farming implements and was set upon on the road by bandits who robbed and killed him.

The farmer, hearing no more of Lôc, thought that the latter had just taken his bag of seeds away to another farm and had no intention of ever repaying him. "Well, that's life," he shrugged philosophically, and went about his business as usual.

On the day of the Feast of the Dead, the farmer went to the pagoda to pay his respects to his ancestors. After having made the appropriate offerings, he stopped under the shade of a tree for a rest and fell asleep. He dreamed that Lôc came to him under the tree and told him "I've owed you a sack of bean seeds for a few years now, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to repay you yet." "Oh," the farmer answered, "I had written that off long ago, don't think twice about it." But Lôc said "Oh no, that would never do. I was just not able to repay you earlier for I had other business to see to, but I promise you, you'll get your money back before the year is out."

When the farmer woke up, he laughed a little at the strange things one dreamed at times, set out for home and thought no more about it. When he got back to his farm, his son came out to tell him that their prize mare had foaled a perfect little colt. This colt turned out to be the most docile, obedient and hard-working horse he had ever had. The beast was so extraordinarily intelligent and always so eager to please that he soon became a legend in the village and offers to buy him poured in, but the farmer would not part from the animal who had become his particular pet.

But one day the colt fell sick, and steadily grew weaker. Several horse doctors came and tried to save him, but the colt would just not respond to treatment. Desperate, the farmer called in one of the monks at the pagoda to come and see if it had been set upon by evil spirits. After a few incantations, the monk looked strangely at the farmer and asked "Does the name Lôc mean anything to you?" "Why, yes," said the farmer, then he stopped for at hearing the name of his former debtor, the colt had raised his head and looked at him mournfully. "Lôc was that guy whom I loaned some seeds to and who disappeared shortly after," he finished. The monk nodded sagely. "It was never his intent to go off without repaying you," he said, "he was prevented from doing so. Now, for this colt, here's what to do to cure him. Once he's well, however, I advise that you sell him immediately, and give half of the proceeds of the sale to the pagoda, and then everything will be well again."

The farmer did as he was told. He gave the colt the medicine the monk had given him, then sold it and went to give half the proceeds to the pagoda. As he was walking home with his share, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. The sum he was left with was exactly the price of a sack of bean seeds!

He then understood that Lôc had died before being able to repay him and had been reborn as the colt, so as to clear all the debts he had left behind. He smiled and sent a fond thought to the soul of the departed debtor, wishing him wealth, happiness and peace of mind in his next incarnation.

© Copyright M-C Luong, 2001

[FleurduJardin]

Notes on reading these stories: I found out that it's better to use the "CosForums Lite" skin. The accented Vietnamese letters come out all right. On some other skins, they come out looking like hieroglyphs.

This goes for the other thread on Vietnamese legends too, I would think. Just wanted to let you know, if you find the names unreadable, try and change the skin.

[FleurduJardin]

I changed the illustration on The Little Colt. At first, I used a picture I found on the Web, then yesterday my husband unearthed a paper copy of the story as it was published years ago in the magazine I was writing for. The drawing had been made especially for the story, by a friend of ours who's an artist, so it was fitting to use it again.