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| Village elder Tran Dinh Lua |
Preserving the family treasure
Elder Lua gently places his left hand on the gong’s surface to keep rhythm, while his right hand holds the traco (gong striker), rhythmically striking each note on the bronze gong darkened by time.
A gong melody rises, resonating as if it is extending from the depths of ancient millennia, echoing across mountain cliffs, spreading far through the layered forests. The sound seems to seep into one’s chest, stirring the very soul of the listener.
“This gong is my family’s treasure,” slowly speaks Elder Lua. “My ancestors preserved it for hundreds of years, through generations of great-grandfathers, grandfathers, my father... and now it’s in my hands. Old gongs have a deep, resonant, powerful sound, as if they carried the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, the soul of mountains and rivers. Modern gongs, though beautiful when newly cast, sound dull when struck, not resonant, and lacking the soul of ancient gongs.”
Elder Lua recounts that decades ago, many people from the lowlands journeyed to the highlands, visiting villages to buy ancient gongs. “People rumored that each ancient gong contained hidden diamonds inside,” laughs Elder Lua. At that time, one gong could be traded for several male buffaloes, a great fortune for highland people who still faced many hardships. Yet the Co Tu people guarded their gongs as they guarded their own souls - no one could bear to sell them.
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Elder Tran Dinh Lua tells stories about the gong
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"Every day, people came to our house asking to buy the gong, so we had to close our doors and avoid them all day long. This gong was passed down by our ancestors. No matter how valuable, it cannot be sold. Selling the gong means selling the memories of our ancestors, cutting the bond between ourselves and our forebears. When the gong leaves the house, it takes with it part of the village’s soul. Only by keeping the gong can we preserve our roots, our origins,” speaks Elder Lua in a deliberate voice.
Among his Co Tu people, whenever there are weddings, funerals, celebrations for new rice harvests, forest offerings, or land ceremonies..., the sound of the gong rises. The gong calls descendants to gather, and also invites the souls of the departed to return and witness the village’s sincerity.
Each festival has its own distinctive gong language. Elder Lua explains: “At weddings, when slaughtering pigs, the gong is struck slowly and evenly. When slaughtering buffalo, it is struck faster. Especially at tomb-making ceremonies, the gong sounds rapidly, like an urgent call awakening the departed, summoning spirits from ancient times back to the village.”
Cherishing the old ways
Since his twenties, Elder Lua has mastered most Co Tu musical instruments - drums, flutes, Abel fiddle..., especially the gong. Those sacred sounds seem to have seeped into his blood from his youth. “I learned with my eyes, ears, and heart,” gently recalls Elder Lua. Just by watching village elders perform, hearing each resonating beat, he could figure out how to follow along, and thus preserved it in his heart.
Co Tu music is the voice of the mountain forests, the thread connecting one generation to another, one festival season to the next. The rhythm of drums and gongs resonates through the years, echoing long with the wind and clouds.
Elder Lua notes that playing the gong seems simple, but not everyone can do it. Those who know how to play have hands that keep rhythm while their souls harmonize with it, making the sound resonate and carry far. Those who cannot absorb the rhythm of the mountains and forests produce gong sounds that are jarring, out of place in the space.
Elder Lua reflects pensively. He gazes distantly with full concern. He says today’s young Co Tu generation no longer has as much passion for ancestral culture as before. Modern melodies are more attractive. Stage lights and social media cause many to forget the old sounds beside the fire in stilt houses. He fears that one day, the sounds of gongs and drums in his village will exist only in memory, like thin wisps of smoke gradually dissipating in the great forests.
Carrying deep love for Co Tu traditional culture, when the former Nam Dong district opened gong classes, Elder Lua accepted to teach without hesitation. He sees this as a way to pass the torch to the younger generation, ensuring the village’s gong sound isn’t forgotten amid modern life.
“Playing the gong requires feeling with the heart, thinking with the mind, so that the hands can create satisfying rhythms,” says Elder Lua while demonstrating the movements. The right hand must be supple and flexible to create round, resonant sounds. Each gong beat requires a delicate combination of emotion and technique. “Happy gongs are played with a smile, slow and rhythmic. Sad gongs are played with pain, sounds rushing like the lament of heaven and earth,” shares the village elder who has lived through more than seventy farming seasons.
From Elder Lua’s hands and heart, many young Co Tu people have learned to play the gong true to their ethnic heritage. Names like Tran Van Dang, Ho Van Bac, Ho Van Giet... can now make the gong resonate like the forest’s call, heaven and earth in harmony.
Elder Lua’s son, Ho Van Lun, also follows in his father’s footsteps, devoted to gongs, drums, and the sacred rhythms that have nurtured Co Tu souls through generations. “The old will eventually leave. The young who grow up must continue to preserve the beautiful things our ancestors left behind. That is our responsibility,” gently smiles Lun.
During village festivals, when young men gather around the firelight, passionate about dance, drums, and gongs, they also learn to touch the cultural soul of their ancestors. Each festival, beyond the joy, is an opportunity to preserve and continue tradition. “In the village, anyone who wants to learn, I teach them all,” humbly smiles Elder Lua. “To me, when many people know how to use them, the sounds of gongs and drums will resonate forever in the great forests.”
Le Nhu Suu, Deputy Chairman of Nam Dong commune People's Committee and former Head of the Culture, Science and Information Department of Nam Dong district, shares that the devoted contributions of Village Elder Tran Dinh Lua in the journey to preserve and maintain Co Tu cultural identity are extremely precious, especially in the context of traditional values gradually fading amid modern life.