Hmong Cosmological Spaces And Religious Practices
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HMONG COSMOLOGICAL SPACES AND RELIGIOUS PRACTICES
Maren Tomforde (2006)
The objective of this chapter is to explain Hmong cosmology and to show how the Hmong are spiritually anchored in space by their beliefs and ritual practices. A discussion of the main characteristics of Hmong cosmology, and of the Hmong belief in supernatural agents and reincarnation, sheds light on the fact that the Hmong conceptualise life as one part of the cycle of birth, life, death, passage to the “Overworld” and rebirth. Hmong cultural spatiality is strongly influenced by these religious conceptualisations and ritual practices, particularly as they do not bind the people to a single place and time. Religion ‒ as one of the core aspects of Hmong culture ‒ provides the Hmong with a total view of how the world operates and of their place in history and the cosmos.
At the start of my fieldwork, one of my neighbours and key informants, Vaam Zeej, a forty-eight-year-old member of the Xiong clan in Mae Sa Mai, visited me and told me the following:
“Hmong culture has two central aspects, religion and kinship, which cannot be changed and which need to be handed down unchanged from one generation to the other. Our economic system can be changed at any time. It is our strength that we can adapt to new economic situations so easily. So if you want to understand Hmong culture, you need to learn about Hmong religion and our kinship system first. I can teach you and introduce you to the Hmong manner of rituals connected to dead people. Once you have learned more about these rituals, you will understand the most important foundation of Hmong culture.” (Source: field interview, H-R1 22)
Vaam Zeej Xyooj offered to act as my teacher to help me learn Hmong core values, beliefs, and practices as quickly and thoroughly as possible. It is customary that knowledgeable elders teach younger Hmong men elements of Hmong knowledge. Many of the village elders believed it was important that I be formally instructed in key features of Hmong religion so I would learn enough about their complex culture within my year’s stay and not only learn about less important “female knowledge”.
As Vaam Zeej noted, religion and kinship form the pillars of Hmong society. They are not distinct spheres but rather are highly interwoven. For example, kinship identities are reproduced in the “cultural arena” of religious ceremonies because most “rituals are aimed at underlining the nexus between dead parents or ancestors and descendants” (Leepreecha 2001: 81). In other words, religious beliefs and kinship structures are closely linked cultural domains that reproduce and reinforce one another through socio-cultural practices. As Nicholas Tapp emphasises, “[k]inship, burial, and geomantic practices all form part of a single conceptual system, characterised by powerfully ‘Chinese’ overtones” (1989: 179, italics in original). While Hmong attempt to pass along religious and kinship structures in their most “traditional” and “original” form to the next generation, the Hmong economy is very adaptable, which increases their ability to adjust to new challenges. Yeeb Yaj who is thirty-four years old, married, has four children and was another of my key informants in Mae Sa Mai, said that the Hmong are very “sensitive” in some ways but adaptable in others:
“Sensitive describes the words and the knowledge we have when we deal with aspects other than farming. We can adjust fast, change fast. But change deep inside takes a long time. The world has opened up a lot, and is changing a lot. The old men want to hang on to the old tradition, but we have to adapt our own culture, not change it but adapt it to these new circumstances. The whole world is changing!” (Source: field interview, H-S1 34)
Despite the fact that teh Hmong attempt to consciously adhere to central religious beliefs and kinship practices, a number of my Hmong informants stated with regret that most of the former diversity of “Hmong tradition” has been lost, apart from religious knowledge centring around the ancestor cult, shamanic rituals, marriages and mortuary rites. “Many aspects of Hmong culture are lost already, especially knowledge of songs, feng shui and the order of the world”, Win Huj told me during one of the many mortuary rites we attended together. Win Huj’s belief corroborates the notion of “deteriorating knowledge” mentioned above, and underscores that the Hmong people have not been able to limit change and adaptation solely to their economic practice. Despite their attempt to adhere to central religious beliefs and kinship practices, these cultural domains are also affected by “inside” developments and influences from outside, and cannot be totally shielded from loss of knowledge and adaptation (cf. Michaud 2004: 7-8; see Ellen and Harris 2000: 5).
In spite of these changes, religious and kinship structures continue to greatly influence daily life and constitute a central aspect of Hmong culture and identity. Hmong rituals are rich, complex, and varied and can occur at any time, in any place. Ritual practices profoundly anchor the Hmong in their own cosmological spaces. In addition to various rituals (see below) that can take place daily and can even be performed simultaneously in a single household, the Hmong also have many “ritually charged times” (Tapp 2001: 12) that span several days or even weeks. These include the rituals for illness or death, which can span several days, and the rituals on the occasion of the Hmong New Year.
The extent to which Hmong daily life is influenced by religious practices became particularly evident when my assistant’s father, Txwj Xaab (who was sixty-six years old at the time of my research), fell ill with kidney disease. Day and night, Txwj Xaab was visited by (mostly male) villagers and lineage members of neighbouring villages. Shortly before his death, numerous lingeage kin from other northern Thai provinces visited for several days. They came to pay respect to Txwj Xaab and show their affection, and also to conduct small rituals on his behalf. These were performed in addition to the Hmong shamanic healing rituals, the ancestor ritual (nju dab), diverse healing rituals carried out by ritual experts, shamanic rituals by a female Thai shaman in Chom Thong, visits to the hospital in Chiang Mai for dialysis and treatment with Western medicine, treatment with Chinese herbal medicine, and visits by the Chiang Mai-based Catholic priest. Txwj Xaab’s family ahd “partially” converted to Catholicism in 1998. The Yang clan shaman and Win Huj’s father himself believed that the disease was not only a malfunction of the kidneys, but suspected that its causes were also linked to the realm of the supernatural. Generally, Hmong concepts of illness and health are also closely connected to the religious sphere.
The religious system of the Hmong is, in fact, a total view of how the world operates ‒ it is their (therapeutic) science, mythology, genealogy, history, and penal code. If they lose their knowledge of these systems of belief and explanation, the Hmong would lose an important source of information about themselves and their place in history and in the world (Yang Dao 1992: 279).
Hmong cosmology: View of the world
Because most Hmong religious knowledge is passed on orally from one generation to the next, a number of different versions of religious tenets coexist. For example, informants and scholars tend to agree on some elements of the origin myth but disagree on others. The god Yawm Saub, or the “Lord of the Sky”, is commonly believed to have advised a sister and brother to bear children because they were the only human beings left on earth after a great flood. At first, the sister did not want to violate the incest taboo. She finally gave in after her brother tricked her by “proving” that supernatural beings were in favour of the plan. The remainder of the myth also varies according to the way it was handed down: After being persuaded by her brother, the sister gave birth to a strange thing reported to have been a pumpkin, a shapeless lump of flesh, green essence, clay, or an egg. The object was divided or carved into twelve pieces by the sibling couple; the pieces became human, and the founders of the Hmong clans (for different versions of this myth see Cha 2001: 5-9; Lee 1996: 6-7; Mischung 1990: 284; Tapp 1989a: 60, Bender 1988: 124-125).[1] Some of my informants in Mae Sa Mai and Ban Phui recounted that the pieces were scattered around by the sibling couple and grew into mountains overnight. These were the foundation of the Hmong Mountains, onto which people of different clans were born until the earth was “full of people.”
Cosmology entails more than a community’s worldview; it also is a people’s spatial model of the immediate and physical world (Levinson 1992: 33; cf. Ingold 2000: 15). The sense of belonging in and to particular places and spaces is reinforced by the belief that deities, spirits and other supernatural beings are also, in a sense, localised. In many cosmologies and mental models of the universe, deities, spirits, ancestors or unborn souls are conceived as located within a large three-dimensional scheme, just like terrestrial and celestial phenomena. The Hmong of the two research sites also divide the world into three spheres: the sphere above the sky (ngaum ntuj, literally: above the sky), the earth (yaj ceeb, literally: human place) and the sphere underneath the earth (yeeb ceeb, literally: spirit or non-human place).[2] All three spheres are believed to be populated by a variety of supernatural spiritual forces.
Hmong scholars like Jean Mottin (1982: 28) and Guy Moréchand (1968: 173) have recorded Hmong myths of origin that describe how the ntuj (the sky) existed prior to the rest of the world. According to these myths, the ntuj created the earth is a superior, indistinct phenomenon reigning above while remaining immaterial and not concrete (see Symonds 2004: 11; Tapp 1989a: 59; Mottin 1980: 114-117; Moréchand 1968: 176-177). The subterrestrial sphere is more immanent for the Hmong. It is regarded as the land of the spirits and also referred to as “the land of darkness” or the “Otherworld”. The yaj ceeb, in contrast, is referred to as “the land of light”, or the land of the living and spirits. In the related Chinese belief system, the world of all people, material objects and nature is called yang, while the land of darkness or the Otherworld that parallels the dark world of the spirits is called yin (Lemoine 1996: 155; Tapp 1989a: 59; Lyman 1968: 5).
One female shaman I met in Mae Sa Mai described the world to me as a “mouth”. She conceived of the places and supernatural beings above the sky and underneath the earth as spiritually stronger than “the human place” and its people, who can be easily “eaten” by the powerful “supernatural mouth”.
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The figure below depicts a synthesis of Hmong cosmology based on a figure by Christian Culas (2004: 110). Culas divides the Hmong world into the supernatural and celestial world; the world of humans belongs to the supernatural world because humans are bound to the world of spirits.
In my research sites, the superior sphere above the sky, with its undefined powers, is believed to be hierarchically structured and divided into twelve floors or twelve great mountains linked by stairs. Godlike creatures, Yawm Saub and his wife, Puj, rule ntuj. The deity couple, who are also referred to as the “Queen and King of Heaven”, is responsible for fertility and reproduction but rarely interact with humans. It is believed that they live in the far realms of ntuj. A half-god and half-man creature, Siv Yis, is believed to be the master to be the master shaman who acts as an intermediary between the deity couple and humans on earth. Siv Yis is characterised by benevolence, profound knowledge, and strong healing powers. When humans are sick, Siv Yis ‒ as the premier shaman ‒ performs shamanistic curing rituals to obtain forgiveness for all the wrongs ever committed by the sick person. The shaman’s altar, which is located on the wall of the shaman’s house opposite the main door, is believed to represent Siv Yis’ grotto near the top of one of the supernatural mountains of ntuj.
In addition, the sphere above the sky is also believed to be the home of the founder couplenkauj ntsuab nraum naas (mother and father) of the origin myth, diverse spirits called dab (in Green Hmong: dlaab), and the giant dragon called Zaj (in Green Hmong: Zaaj). There exists a larger dab ntuj, as well as dab for all “corners” of the sky: dab paab npeg (side above all = north),dab paab ntsaa (down side = south), dab hnub tuaj (sunrise = east) and dab hnub npoob (sunset = west). Each clan believes in different dab; there appear to be more malevolent dab (dab qus) than benevolent ones.
Numerous informants told me that the giant and evil dragon Zaj is the owner of the water, rivers, ponds and other natural features but also lives in the sphere above the sky.[3] The topography of the land is believed to represent the dragon’s body, and its contours and veins are the mountain ridges and watercourses. As my Ben Phui informants emphasised, most Hmong people are afraid of malevolent spirits and dab and especially of this giant dragon, which according to Chinese folk narratives symbolises imperial power. A sixty-seven-year-old man from Ban Phui emphasised:
“Most people are afraid of Zaj because of his bad manners. It is very easy to anger him, and he eats humans. His evil sign is the rainbow. When Hmong see a rainbow, we believe that this isZaj. A rainbow is nothing good. If Zaj has touched a person who has not respected his rules around water, the shaman must perform a ritual to heal the person. But normally, no things are offered to Zaj.” (Source: field interview, H-R2 69)
As an extension of the belief that Zaj is the owner of all water, Hmong believe that water sources and rivers must be protected so that the evil and powerful dragon is not disturbed or angered. For example, when a water source ran dry in Mae Sa Mai, a sacrificial ritual was held to appeaseZaj for the overuse of water, and the land around the source was turned into a protection zone.
In Hmong belief, the earth is populated by humans and animals as well as a variety of dab and other supernatural spiritual forces, including ancestor spirits called puj yawm txwv txoob and ib tug dab. These spiritual forces animate objects and thus surround humans everywhere and at all times (cf. Lue Vang and Lewis 1990: 3; Tapp 1989a: 59). Spirits are not evil or malevolent by nature, but can attack a body’s vitality (plig) when they feel disturbed and disrespected. Plig, conceived as a distinctive set of “souls” tend to wander around and thus can easily be attacked by spirits. The actual number of plig is difficult to determine; both the Hmong in my research sites as well as the Hmong in other anthropological studies have given widely varying answers to questions about the number of plig. At different times, Hmong have stated that there exist one, two, three, five, seven, twelve, or thirty-two plig (Holly Peters-Golden 2002: 84; Lemoine 1996: 146-148; Yang Dao 1992: 273-274; Symonds 1991: 44; Tapp 1989a: 75, 87; Lyman 1968: 6). According to shamanic tradition, people have three main souls (or life essences). At death, one soul remains with the grave, one returns to the ancestors, and the third is reborn (Tapp 1989a: 87). In my two research sites, most Hmong spoke of only one plig, located in the centre of the head. Although the number of souls appear to vary, the Hmong concept of soul and loss of soul appears very similar everywhere.
The belief in spirits transcends all aspects of life, including spatial boundaries. Spirits are believed to exist everywhere on earth, above the sky, and underneath the earth. I went on a tour to the mountains surrounding Mae Sa Mai together with Win Huj, his brother Ntsum Nraiv (thirty-two years, married, four children), and their lineage “brother” Yeeb. We offered the first part of our lunch to the “owner spirit” of the place (xeeb teb) where we sat in the forest. When Hmong eat outdoors or outside the village, they first are expected to offer part of the meal to the “owner spirit” of the place, regardless of whether they are in a forest near the village, in Bangkok, or in San Francisco. As Chaiv Yas Yaj, a seventy-one-year-old blacksmith and ritual expert from Mae Sa Mai, explained:
“Every place has a leader of spirits, whom we call xeeb teb xeeb chaws - the leader of the place, or the village, water source, mountains, or the fields. When people eat outdoors, the leader is invited to eat with the people and to protect them from bad spirits. For example, the xeeb teb of Mae Sa Mai lives in the sacred tree, the ntoo xeeb. [...] We always have to respect and honour these different dab.” (Source: field interview, H-R1 55)
Win Huj’s brother, Ntsum Nraiv, says that Hmong always feel these spirits; in some way they are always there, no matter where one is. They always must be respected and feared, which was one of the reasons for his family’s “partial” conversion to Catholicism. Ntsum Nraiv no longer wanted to fear and pay attention to the spirits in the house, the village, the forests and the fields that can bring bad luck at any time when they have been angered by disrespectful behaviour or actions. Yeeb Yaj still believes in the traditional Hmong religion. He explained:
“There are dab everywhere. All rivers, mountains, forests and other places have dab. We have to sacrifice to them when we eat outside our house, or in far away places. Then the dab protect you and do not harm you. The dab ntuj are the most powerful dab because they can see everything from above. People say that the good dab are inside the house, but there are also some good dab in the place underneath the earth, they work as police there. Outside the house, there are mostly bad dab ‒ in the trees, rivers, mountains, simply everywhere. These spirits protect humans when they are asked and when they receive offerings. If they do not receive offerings, they can bring harm. There is also a dragon at the river who can punish women when they touch the water during their menstrual bleeding.” (Source: field interview, H-R1 88-89)
Yeeb’s statement emphasises the distinction between the good and safe “inside” sphere of the house and the village (the earth place), and the wild and untamed sphere of potentially dangerous supernatural agents. In the Hmong worldview, all spiritual beings are ambivalent and powerful. They sustain life and give strength, but may also bring harm and disease. In Hmong imagery, there is often a “metaphysical battle” between humans and spiritual beings, which results in illness or misfortune if humans succumb (Conquergood 1989: 45-46). A food sacrifice offered to the spirit of a place can be described as a propitious act, a mystical way to minimise the risk of angering the spirits and incurring harm. Hmong generally strive for equilibrium with the spiritual beings becausedab (including ancestor spirits) are woven into all their activities: before rebirth in the Otherworld, during their lifetime, and also in the afterlife when awaiting reincarnation. The Hmong belief system also extends to all places, even to those unknown and outside Hmong territory. All areas can potentially be “Hmong space”.
The Otherworld, or yeeb ceeb, is pictured as a mountainous territory. The Hmong way to communicate with the Otherworld is through shamanism and spirit propitiation, both features still affecting much of everyday life in the Hmong villages studied. The Otherworld or land of darkness is also thought to be populated by dab and by ancestor spirits, all ruled by the important deity, Ntxwj Nyug, and his wife, Nyuj Vaj. Ntxwj Nyug is responsible for life and death. He issues life licenses in “registration books”, called ntawv pe nyaj vaab tuam teem (literally: our register book of god’s sight), which determines an individual’s lifespan. At the moment of death, when the registration book expires, the deity takes the book, evaluates the deceased’s life, determines whether all rituals have been performed correctly, and decides whether and in what form the soul of the deceased shall be reborn ‒ as man, woman or animal (Symonds 1991: 52; Tapp 1989: 82). This means that the moment of death is already predetermined at birth. A shaman can diagnose that a patient’s lifespan license is about to expire. Then the shaman enters the Otherworld in a trance and asks the deity to extend the license. In some cases, an old person wishes to die but is prevented from doing so because his or her lifespan has not yet expired.
In summary, Hmong must respect and follow the rules of the supernatural beings, including the giant dragon, the ancestor spirits, and dab, lest they be punished with misfortune or sickness. The supernatural sphere above the sky, the earth, and the sphere beneath the earth are characterised by a few benevolent forces and a large number of demonic forces, which must be appeased to avoid punishment and misfortune (cf. Tapp 1989: 81). The supernatural agents are both a supernatural power and an invisible link that unite the Hmong into a tightly organised community.
Religious spatiality: Geomancy
As this description shows, the Hmong include all spaces ‒ known as well as unknown, potential as well as spiritual, on the earth, above the sky and underneath the earth ‒ into their sphere where Hmong, their souls, or their ancestor spirits can be found. The practice of geomancy, called saib chaw nyob (literally: look place live), helps to anchor the Hmong in a specific locality and provide instructions about proper comportment in a (possibly unknown) place. This place may be anywhere in the world. Merely by examining the mountain landscape ‒ the Hmong always imagine themselves in the mountains ‒ a Hmong would immediately know where to erect a village and where to bury the dead (cf. Corlin 2004: 307-308; Tapp 2001: 15). Nicholas Tapp (1989: 173) hypothesises that Hmong forms of geomancy, and also their burial and patrilineal naming systems, are derived from complex historical processes of integration, incorporation, and assimilation with the Han Chinese in Southern China. The Chinese geomantic system called feng shui is believed to be the basis for Hmong geomancy (Tapp 1996: 83; see Feuchtwang 1974: 243).
Geomancy is especially important for the siting of a new village, houses and graves. The principles behind the siting of villages and houses are nearly the same, while the siting of burial places is more complex. Villagers can be affected by their village’s or house’s location in relation to the “veins” (looj mem) of the giant dragon, Zaj. Humans can also be affected by an incorrect siting of an ancestor’s grave (Tapp 1988: 230; Tapp 1986:50). The looj mem are lines of natural energy that are believed to run through the landscape, especially near mountains and watercourses, and to determine the sites favourable to the establishment of a village or burial place. In practice, a good location for a village is a location where the mountains are “behind and around” the village. The villages is then “nestled” inside the mountains and protected from “enemies, storms and other dangerous things from the outside”, as informant Ntxhoov Neeb Yaj, a sixty-five-year-old expert on Hmong geomancy from Pang Hin Fon near Ban Phui explained. He further stated:
“For locating a village, the directions of the sky are not important, only the position of mountains and water. Hmong call this roob puav zos [literally: mountains surrounding the village]. Two mountains should come together. If the mountains come from both sides and the back, that is very good. The more mountains there are, the better. The right side of the mountains is the female side, which is like a tiger. The left side is the male side, which is like a dragon. The rear side of a village should look like a turtle. The fields are down there, or at the side of the mountain. For example, Ban Phui has a good location: There are high mountains behind and at the sides of the village and further away in front there are also mountains. In the area behind the village, no people should be buried. That would bring bad luck and a heavy burden from behind. But the ntoo xeeb should be in the top mountain behind or beside the village. It is important for the sacred tree to be above the village to protect the people in the village.” (Source: field interview, H-R2 46-47)
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In terms of house construction, geomantic law requires that two houses stand parallel to one another. All main doors should face the downward slope. Directly opposing house doors should be avoided (Tapp 1988: 231). When a new construction site is chosen, a ceremony is performed to ascertain its spiritual suitability. Sometimes some rice is left overnight at the spot to see if it is still there the next morning. If the rice is untouched, the dab have approved the site. Another option is to throw the divination horns (ntaus kuam), made of two half-pieces of buffalo horn, and ask the oracle if the site is spiritually acceptable. Like many other Hmong rites, this ritual is Taoist in origin. The pattern of the horns as they fall determines whether the supernatural spirits have accepted the sacrifices and whether the ritual is successful. Throwing the divination horns is an easy way to communicate directly with the spirits, and most Hmong men are versed in the practice (see Tapp 1989a: 70; Chindarsi 1976: 48-52). Once the household spirit has “given” its approval for construction, the house can be built. Once it is completed, an altar (taaj) made of stamped paper is erected for the spirit on the wall opposite the main door. At the beginning of each Hmong year (according to the Chinese lunar calendar), a chicken or pig is sacrificed to the spirit on behalf on the general health and welfare of all the household members.
The correct location of graves is also extremely important. A correct burial site is important to the soul of the deceased and for his descendants: “[...] it is upon the welfare of ancestors that the fortunes of their descendants depend [...].” (Tapp 1989: 137, italics in original) An ancestor buried in a perfect geomantic location becomes a “king in heaven”, which makes the son a “king on earth”. According to some Hmong, there is no ideal burial site in Thailand. This explains why the Hmong have no king and continue to suffer comparative poverty and lack of political influence (Tapp 1988: 233). In Mae Sa Mai and Ban Phui, some mountain areas are geomantically approved burial sites, but have been “full” for a number of years. According to traditional belief, only one grave can be located in each geomantically appropriate site. Consequently, the dead in Mae Sa Mai, Ban Phui as well as in other Hmong villages have to be buried in the family’s cash crop fields where the old geomantic rules can only by followed to some extent.
The unwritten system of geomancy, which is difficult to schematise unless a Hmong explains the geomantic principles “on site” by way of examples from the landscape, was first described by anthropologist Jacques Lemoine (1972: 99). Geomantic knowledge is no longer widespread among the Hmong in my subject villages. In my search for Hmong who could explain the system in greater detail, I was often referred to Chinese books on feng shui or sent to older, more knowledgeable Hmong men in other villages. Thus knowledge of one of the major systems of Hmong religion that ensures well-being and explains misfortune on a supernatural level is beginning to successively disappear.
Two reasons account for this gradual disappearance. First, geomantic knowledge cannot often be applied today since villages are permanent and land scarcity has led to the location of burial sites in cash crop fields. Suitably shaped and sized mountains are also scarce. Second, during periods of migration to new settlement areas, geomancy was important for the allocation of land among competing villagers (Tapp 1988: 237). In northern Thailand, where land is now under state jurisdiction and has been turned into conservation sites, competition over land now takes place between the Hmong, state developments, lowlanders and other ethnic groups. Competition over land thus no longer takes place on the supernatural level, but on the level of administration and concrete inter-group conflicts. The system of geomancy is slowly becoming obsolete even though many Hmong still believe that a correct burial site is essential for both ancestors and descendants (see also Tapp 1989: 158).
Shamans and other religious experts
Hmong religion includes several kinds of ritual practitioners, who all have dissimilar tasks and fields of practice: shamans who fall into trance; shamans who acquire shamanic knowledge by learning; ritual experts (sometimes called priests) who perform rituals for the household and the well-being of the people; and magical practitioners who specialise in herbal knowledge and medicinal spirits.
Hmong differentiate between ua neeb (shamanism), a special vocation aimed at healing, and ua dab (spirit rituals), aimed at propitiating ordinary spirits, assuring the peace and prosperity of a household. Ua neeb is aimed at helping people suffering grave illness by entering a shamanic trance, while ua dab is performed for one’s own benefit. Shamanism cures by calling upon the spiritual sphere, while herbal and Western medicine cures in the physical sphere. Ua dab propitiates ordinary spirits and is a ritual practice that normally can be carried out by all male household members who have the necessary knowledge. Rites are usually intended to promote the physical and spiritual well-being of household and lineage members. They are usually performed inside the house at the altar, in the case of the house spirit, or outside the house and in the fields. These rituals by household members are performed in cases of mild sickness, misfortune, to ask for wealth and the protection of children and of people who are going on a journey or returning from one. Most Hmong are familiar with some aspects of ua dab, while only a few persons are familiar with ua neeb (Tapp 1989a: 65). Both ua dab and ua neeb “create a rhythm and a tempo of their own: properly speaking, they take place outside time, in a changeless world” (Tapp 1989a: 66). The belief in supernatural agencies populating all spheres of the world and the two ways of communicating with the Otherworld allow Hmong spatiality to stretch beyond the topographical settlement area in space and time.
The shaman (txiv neeb)
Hmong shamanism is, strictly speaking, not a “proper” religious domain but rather a form of healing. Its main objective is restoring the patient’s body image (Lemoine 1986: 339; see also Eliade 1968: 36-37). The shamanic metaphor provides two basic sets of explanation for illness: first, illness results when a supernatural agent attacks the vital essence plig of the patient’s body; second, illness results when a patient’s plig is lost due to the intervention of spirits (Lemoine 1996: 148). Suffering and illness are believed to be the result of external aggression by supernatural agents of disease, the result of ancestral spirits who blame their descendants for not having found their way to the land of the ancestors, of improper mortuary rites, or of an unstable and wandering plig that was captured by dab.
A shaman’s trance aims at obtaining information about three aspects: the patient’s own vital mechanisms; the spiritual third parties who may have directly or indirectly caused the illness; and the shaman’s power to identify and master the patient’s condition (Lemoine 1996: 144).[4] A shaman’s trance is divided into the diagnosis performance, where the patient does not play any active role, and the curing performance, where the patient and his or her family participate.
As mentioned above, there are two kinds of shamanism: the shamanism that entails trance (ua neeb muag dub) and the shamanism that does not entail trance (ua neeb muag dawb). The first kind of shamanism cannot be learned but is “imposed” on the shaman by the supernatural beings. The second kind of shamanism does not involve trance. Men who specialise in ways to communicate with the spiritual world learn it over a course of years. Their aim is to help people with protective rituals in cases of protracted misfortune or in instances where the individual fears serious supernatural affliction.
Male and female shamans interviewed in both Mae Sa Mai and Ban Phui all confirmed that shaman spirits are usually passed on from one generation to the next.[5] Usually the spirits first cause the person to become seriously ill before he or she consents to become a shaman and “serve” the tutelary spirits. The six shamans I spoke with in my research sites all claimed that they had not wanted to become a shaman, but were forced to cooperate with the spirits to cure a grave illness and elude death (Fadiman 1997: 21; see also Chindarsi 1983: 187-188). The belief that shamans are “initiated” into their profession by a serious illness or a “maladie-vocation” (French term used by Eliade 1968: 44) is familiar wherever shamanistic forms occur. Shamanism is a difficult role, replete with responsibilities towards the human and the spiritual sphere. It is a particularly great burden on female shamans, who must also fulfil their role as wives, mothers, and respectable women ‒ roles that are not always congruent with that of a shaman. The trance is physically strenuous since the shaman must sometimes sit for many hours on the “shaman’s horse”, his or her entire body trembling while it is possessed by the spirits that “negotiate and fight” with the malevolent spirits responsible for a patient’s suffering. During trance, the shaman, who is called txiv neeb (literally: father of the shaman spirits), often addresses the tutelary spirits, the neeb, in Mandarin.
Shamans are crucial to Hmong culture, particularly those who undergo shamanic trance. Through the shamans, deeply held beliefs within Hmong culture become apparent.
“Through his or her healing trances, core tenets of the culture are performed and reinforced. The shamanic spirits, dab neeb, select their own representatives among the Hmong; it is not a matter of human choice.” (Peters-Golden 2002: 84, italics inserted by M.T.)
When a shaman dies, his/her tutelary spirits, dab neeb, search for a new person to function as intermediary between the human and supernatural sphere and to receive the offerings. Even after a person is chosen, he or she must study for several years under a “parent-shaman” to learn about the different dab, the chants, the rituals, the trembling on the bench or “horse” (nees huab cua) in the trance during which the shaman fights with spirits or captures the wandering souls (plig) of the seriously ill. The shaman’s shaking and trembling during the trance is an essential component of the healing ritual. For the shaman, it is exhausting and dangerous, because the shaman’s own plig risks capture. Most shamans with whom I spoke to were reluctant to recount their experiences of trances in detail because they were afraid the spirits might punish them for disclosing the secrets of the Otherworld. However, the forty-seven-year-old female shaman from Ban Phui (Piav Tsaab, married, four children), was more willing to speak than her male colleagues in Mae Sa Mai:
“When the spirit drives into my body, if feels like something stings me and then it prickles inside. [...] My shaman spirits come from my own ancestors. Other shamans have the shaman spirits of their ancestors. That means that each shaman has his or her own shaman spirits. When I became a shaman, I had already learned a lot on my own. But I still needed someone to guide me. First my mother, who was also a shaman, guided me, but then she died. Then my mother’s brother in Mae Tho was my xib hwb (master shaman) who guided me. Actually I don’t like being a shaman but I have no choice. The shaman spirits chose me. I don’t think that I got the shaman spirits from my mother because they came to me before she died. They came from my ancestors. [...] I don’t like being a shaman because Hmong women are not supposed to behave this way. But when the spirits come to me during a session I cannot control myself. To be a woman shaman is very difficult. I have to work in the house and in the fields for my family. It is really difficult when I am pregnant. [...] I usually do a shamanic ritual about three or four times per month, but when people ask for more, I have to do more. I share the work with the other woman shaman in the village. During a session, I always sing the same songs to communicate with the spirits. Each shaman has different words to speak with the spirits. I only change the words when I have to communicate with the special spirits. Normal people cannot communicate with the spirits, they need shamans. I speak with the spirits for the villagers and then the spirits tell me what to tell to the villagers. The shaman spirits always comes to me, whether or not I wear the black cloth over my eyes. I wear it because, over the generations, the elders have asked us to wear the black cloth. [...] I cannot say how many spirits there are. I cannot see them with my eyes. I can only see them with my heart and my plig. The spirits above and underneath the earth look and behave just like normal people. The land of the spirits is full of mountains, and you need stairs to go from one level to the next. It is funny to go travelling in these lands because the spirits are funny and always interesting to look at. When the session is over, I forget everything. Actually I cannot tell you anything about the spirits right now. I only know everything when the spirits come to me during a session.” (Source: field interview, H-R2 33-35)
At the end of a trance, the shaman determines what the ancestors or spirits demand as sacrifice for appeasal, usually a chicken, pig, or sometimes even an ox. This sacrifice will allow the plig to return to the patient’s body. Shamans are paid about 400 baht per ritual and also receive parts of the sacrificial animal (for example, the pig’s head). The assistants in the shaman’s ritual (who are usually shamans of the “second kind”) are paid somewhat less, and also receive rice and parts of the sacrificial animal. Shamanistic séances are performed at least once per week (see also Ovesen 2004: 463). Since shamans are the mediators between humans and supernatural beings, they give ordinary people a vision of the cosmos during their “performances” when they are in trance. The knowledge of the world “above” and “below” is acquired during trances and direct spiritual access to the Otherworld. For the shaman, there is no place beyond his or her reach; during trance he or she can “go” anywhere. The “metaphorical space of the Beyond,” as Jacques Lemoine (1996: 150) terms it, is also a space that opens the path to death and reincarnation. The shaman can enter this space to help humans by providing information about the supernatural. The actual ritual site of the shamanic trance is restricted to the altar, the shaman’s bench, and the assistants who work between the altar and the main door of the house. The shaman’s altar is usually a hanging or standing wooden altar with two to three tiers, depending on the status of the shaman. This altar, along with its sacrificial items, is believed to represent the grotto of the founder shaman Siv Yis, who lives near the top of a supernatural mountain. From this shaman’s altar, several cotton threads are spun towards the main door to assist the neeb, the shaman’s tutelary spirits, in travelling from the altar to the outside world and vice versa (Lemoine 1996: 164-165; Tapp 1989a: 63; Lemoine 1986: 340-342; see also Lemoine and Eisenbruch 1997:76).
Ritual experts (txiv plig or txiv dab)
Ritual experts called either txiv plig (father of the soul), or txiv dab (father of the spirits), can carry out rituals that involve minor illness, household matters, mortuary rites, marriages, and white magic (“all the secret words” as one Hmong man said). These ritual experts have learned specific facts about important religious issues, may assist shamans, and may conduct small ceremonies on their own. Most of them specialise in specific certain rituals or events. For example, one ritual expert may be known for his knowledge of mortuary and household rites, while another may be particularly versed in ritual matters of marriage. Txaj Njua, a fifty-two-year-old male member of the Thao clan from Mae Sa Mai (works also for IMPECT), is a txiv dab. He describes his work as follow:
“A txiv dab takes care of the spirits of the house and communicates with the spirits outside the house through songs and traditional poems. I became a priest twenty-five years ago when my father died because I wanted to carry on my father’s knowledge. My father taught me everything he knew while he was alive. I can do rituals for the dead, weddings, the welcome back ceremony, hu plig, and assist the shaman. I am not a priest with 100 percent knowledge, like Nplaj Thoj from the Xiong clan, who can also do the ritual at the sacred tree and at the bridge to ask the god couple to give fertility to parents without children. It is a priest’s job to worship the spirits inside the house in a positive way to obtain good health and a good economy. We worship the spirits through sacrifices: paper, incense sticks, tea, whiskey, chicken and animal blood. These things are given to the spirits in a positive way to ask for protection,. If something is wrong with the spirits and people fall ill, then we have to call the shaman. The shaman is for the negative things and the things that go wrong.” (Source: field interview, H-R1 101-102)
Most Hmong men beyond a certain age have acquired some ritual knowledge from older male relatives in order to carry out sacrificial rituals for ancestor spirits and household spirits. Men, who acquire additional, specialised ritual knowledge about specific areas like mortuary rites and weddings attain the status of a txiv dab or txiv plig. Women cannot become ritual experts because they are not permitted to conduct the rituals for the ancestors of the patriline. However, some women, called khawv koob (magical practitioners), are versed in medicinal herbs and are able to heal the sick by calling forth the spirits of medicine. Some households have an altar for sacrifices to the medicine spirits, dab ntsuaj. This hangs to the right of the altar for the household spirits, dab xwm kab, which always hangs on the wall opposite the front door. In a shaman’s house, it also hangs to the right of the shaman’s altar. The altar for the house spirits and the spirit of herbs and medicine are usually pieces of stamped rice paper covered with chicken blood, feathers and gold leaf, often obtained after rituals.[6]
Vaas Poj from the Yang clan, a ritual expert (txiv plig) from Mae Sa Mai, explained that Hmong believe in different causes for illnesses:
“First, a person can become ill when the body is not well and is dirty inside. Then it has to be cleansed with herbs. Second, a person can become ill when the plig has left the body. Then the txiv plig has to call and fetch back the plig and convince it to return to the body. Third, a person can also become very ill when he or she is possessed by bad spirits that have aroused something negative inside the body. Sometimes this has also to do with black magic, which is not done by spirits but by other people. In this case, the shaman has to contact the spirits so that he can see what kind of sacrifices they demand to stop disturbing the ill person. You see, unlike in Western medicine, we believe that illness, worries and misfortune can have many reasons, not just medical!” (Source: field interview, H-R1 66)
In fact, during my fieldwork among the Hmong I witnessed ritual practices by shamans (of both types), ritual experts and magical practitioners, and was also directly confronted with rumours of black magic.[7] Win Huj’s father Txwj Xaab and his lineage did everything to find the cause and cure for his kidney disease, which they believed was not solely physical in cause. In spite of their partial conversion to Catholicism, they performed all the usual Hmong rituals for serious illness, including the shamanic ritual hu plig, the xaa dab (send the bad spirit away), and the costly ox ritual (nju dab), which is supposed to appease the parental ancestor couple, who may have caused the illness. When Txwj Xaab’s condition worsened in spite of the rituals, numerous visits to the hospital, and a visit to a famous female Thai shaman, rumours began to circulate in the village that Txwj Xaab had been possessed by a malicious spirit that might bring misfortune to the entire village. As a result, Win Huj finally moved his parents and family to his older brother’s house in the town of Mae Rim for several of weeks, hoping to spare his parents the negative rumours and keep his family from actually affected by “black magic”. My assistant suspected that the rumours were being spread by villagers involved in the drug trade who were losing income as a result of the anti-drug policy he had launched as headman. Txwj Xaab and the rest of the household did not return to Mae Sa Mai until after the majority of villagers expressed open support for Win Huj’s actions against illegal drug traffic in the village. Txwj Xaab died of kidney failure several weeks after the return to the village. As this incident shows, the belief in “black magic” can be used by Hmong to control “deviant” behaviour or behaviour that is contrary to an individual’s interests. It also can be used in a search for scapegoats upon whom to blame difficulties. This belief can test a village and its cohesion to a point that villagers are forced to decide whether to support the person believed involved with black magic or to allow that person and the entire family to permanently leave the village.
Religious practices: Hmong rituals
Even though I witnessed, documented and analysed a great number of different rituals, I will not explain the rites in detail since they are not directly relevant to my topic. Instead, the most important elements within the Hmong cycle of “ritual protocols” (Culas 2004: 120) are outlined to illustrate the manner in which the Hmong constitute religious spatiality in practice.[8]
Emile Durkheim showed that the function of religion is to create solidarity and to integrate people by ways of rituals. Durkheim’s most famous argument ([1915] 1994: 19) is that religion, at its most profound level, entails a society’s worship of itself. Durkheim ([1915] 1994: 28, 36-42) argues that religion is an important social phenomenon necessary to preserve a society’s order and values. Rituals may be understood as a synthesis of several important levels of social reality, including the symbolic and the social as well as the individual and the collective. Rituals dramatise the abstract principles of religion, render its contents concrete and recognisable, link it to experience, legitimise social and political power and, last but not least, divide the world into the profane and the sacred sphere (Durkheim [1915] 1994: 19-28; 61-68). Rituals must thus be understood as important vehicles of ideology that provide believers with strong emotional experiences. In addition, rituals help to elucidate and resolve, at a symbolic level, contradictions in society. Rituals communicate between the social and cosmic order to constantly reaffirm a society’s value system. According to Comaroff (1985: 196), rituals provide an appropriate medium through which the values and structures of a contradictory world may be addressed and manipulated.
Edmund Leach (1954: 12) also claims that rituals ‒ which consist primarily of private and public sacrifice ‒ are indirect and oblique ways of conversing about society. Of course, a ritual is not simply a reflection of the institutional conventions of quotidian life. Rather, it is a creative representation of these conventions, which is constantly built up and dissolved. Richard Schechner (2002: 622) compares the functions of theatre, including entertainment, celebration, commemoration of the past, enhancement of social solidarity, education, and healing, with the functions of religious rituals. Religious rituals are instrumental and efficient in their ability to maintain cosmic order and propitiate the supernatural. They also contain elements of performance and elements of fun, as Tim Ingold (2002: 342-43) correctly emphasises.
Hmong rituals have been described in great detail elsewhere (see e.g. Symonds 2004; Lemoine 1983; Chindarsi 1976). In my analysis, I shall focus only on the characteristics of ritual practices that affect Hmong cultural spatiality. In Hmong culture, rituals are very important, many of them are performed on a regular basis, and are connected to many sorts of offerings. Rituals are costly, and they keep people away from agriculture and other forms of occupation. When fields cannot be attended, or work is missed and income is lost, ritual attendance becomes even more costly. However, this burden is accepted, even expected, within a society that otherwise strives for wealth and prosperity. The Hmong rituals are thus extremely important, and without them it is impossible to maintain the cosmic order or to keep the ancestors and other spirits from harming the living. The danger takes precedence over personal material gain. Moreover, it is by way of sacrificial rituals that spirits are asked for wealth that cannot be obtained and maintained without this supernatural sphere, but only in accordance with it.
Most Hmong rituals contain a number of similar aspects: communication with the dab and the supernatural to drive away bad spirits and to ask good dab for protection and fortune; the worship of ancestor spirits; and the search for reasons for misfortune an illness (see also Lyman 1968: 7). Hmong rituals usually take place in houses, or else outdoors, in or beyond the village. In other words, ritual practice does not require a special, sacred building such as a church or temple. A ritual can be held anywhere at any time. Certain rituals are socially expected. For example, if a family member is seriously ill, the ancestor ritual (see below) must be performed. It is also expected that many people will be invited to join the feast after the rite. When socially expected rituals are not held, rumours can spread quickly that the family is failing to observe religious norms and is behaving in a manner disrespectful to Hmong society. This deviant behaviour can be “punished” by the community, which can refuse to invite the family to rituals, or which can refuse to attend those rituals which the family does organise. Mortuary rituals, for example, are fairly similar in procedure but may nonetheless express the status of the deceased. Old men and women who died a natural death are particularly revered. Their mortuary rites can take as long as six days and nights and be attended by more than 1,000 people. However, full mortuary rites are not performed by everyone. Mortuary rites for small children are less extensive. People who died in accidents, by drug overdose, or by suicide are buried as quickly as possible because the Hmong believe they assume the form of hungry and evil spirits. For an ordinary mortuary rite, the presence of many respectful mourners is believed to assure the dead of a safe and undisturbed passage to the land of the ancestors. The spirit of an ancestor who does not safely pass over to the Otherworld roams the earth restlessly and can pose problems for descendants. Thus the present-day fortunes of the descendants depend on the welfare of the ancestors. Individual moral behaviour immediately reflects on and involves the wider social network, especially people from the same household and lineage (see also Tapp 2002: 103). When a mortuary rite is sparsely attended because of the deceased’s deviant behaviour, the deceased and his or her family are punished for not ensuring the observation of Hmong norms.
For other important rituals, the social expectation is also that it will be attended by large number of people who wish to pay respect to lineage and clan members. During the weeks of Win Huj’s father grave illness, twenty to thirty persons were present in the house day and night. Rituals such as shamanic healing rituals, marriages, mortuary rites and New Year celebrations are important events that maintain and renew the ties that bind individuals to their household, lineage and (sub-)clan group. These rites also help to link diverse social units such as lineages, clans, and villages (cf. Yang Dao 1992: 274).
Most of the Hmong rituals that do not entail trance are quite similar in sequnce, content, and sacrifices. The rites make visible the belief and respect accorded to the supernatural beings that surround Hmong at all times and which can do both good and harm. Rituals attempt to influence supernatural beings and so positively influence Hmong fate. Many rituals open with the preparation of the sacrifice, for example stamping white paper symbolising ancient money and setting up a small offering table with cups of whiskey, tea, rice, an egg, and incense. Then the dab ntuj (spirits of the sky) of all four directions (plaub tus dab, four spirits) and the dab nteb (spirits of the earth) or the ancestor spirits are called to accept the offerings. Finally the paper or “spirit money” and the incense are burned and divination horns are thrown by the shaman or the ritual expert to determine whether the sacrifices have been accepted.
During most Hmong rituals, malevolent spirits are “thrown out” of the house. This can be done, for example, by throwing corn into the room and then out of the house, or by spitting water into a room, as the shaman’s assistants may do during a trance. The water spit by the assistant shaman is believed to distribute energy against the bad spirits and cleanse the house’s interior of bad energies. Water also arouses and refreshes the good spirits. The bad spirits can also be banned onto a material object which is then either destroyed or placed outside the village, as is done in the xaa dab ritual. In this rite, a ritual expert bans bad spirits and all bad things of a sick person on to a banana basket. Clay figures inside the basket represent the bad dab, which are then “thrown out” of the house and the village. The spirits are attracted to the basket by offerings such as chicken and burning incense. In the ox ritual, the ua ncuj dab, and ox is offered to an ancestor who appears not to have found his way back to the ancestors in China and is now disturbing the living. In this ritual, bad spirits are banned on to a small bamboo bridge (chais kauj). This bamboo structure is covered with chicken blood offered to the spirits, who are summoned as follows: “You can come today for the ritual but afterwards you should not come again.”
During the course of any ritual, the ritual practitioners must ensure that bad spirits are not attracted by the sacrifices offered to the ancestor or other spirits. Bad spirits are either thrown from the house or are tricked. In the ox ritual, for example, a fake house is built next to the actual “ritual house” (ntev rwm xaav) for the offering to placate the ancestor spirit. The bad spirits are first lured to the fake house, which is then destroyed. After the ox is slaughtered and carefully divided, it is also necessary to get rid of the ancestor spirit that is disturbing the descendants and causing illness. In thetso dab (free the spirit) ceremony, small sections of the ox are offered by the ill descendant to the ancestor spirit in the ritual house: “Please eat up, leave, do not bargain with me, please be reborn again and do not bother me again.”
A shaman can also determine that a ncaiv (taboo or “prohibition” day) is necessary for his or her clan to protect its members from the recurrence of an earlier misfortune. On this day, the clan members must remain at home, may not work, and are not permitted to use sharp tools or speak bad words. This is done to appease the bad spirits and keep them away. People from other clans should not visit on ncaiv days. The “taboo houses” are marked by a bamboo star decorated with fresh leaves, which hangs in front of the main door of the house (cf. Cula 1994: 16). This kind of taboo was held five times for the Xiong clan and twice for the Yang clan during my stay in Mae Sa Mai, and once for the Yang clan in Ban Phui.
Negative or bad elements are also banned passively by gates that protect the village or “strong protective items” such as wooden knives, goat feet or curiously formed tree branches hung over a house’s door (see also Chindarsi 1976: 133-134). Protective items such as silver necklaces and small bags containing herbs are also hung around children’s necks to safeguard them from the malicious actions of bad spirits, which are believed to be able to easily capture the plig of a child.
In addition to combating bad spirits, the rituals attempt to influence the good spirits and gain their protection. The offerings include paper money, gold bars made from cardboard, incense, whiskey, rice, animal parts, and animal blood. In religious rituals, symbols of wealth in the form of paper money or cardboard gold bars play an important role as offerings for the ancestors and other supernatural agencies. Since striving for surplus and wealth is an important value in Hmong society, the rituals are supposed to extend the wealth of the ancestors to the descendants. Chinese paper money with the inscription “Hell Bank Note” or gold coloured papers, purchased in Chinese shops in Chiang Mai, are also offered as symbols of wealth. In addition to wishes for good health and a secure future for children, prayers to ancestors often include a wish for a lotto win. By burning the paper money, the money is turned into spirit money and the spirits are able to receive it. Incense sticks are burned because they symbolise energy and their odour is supposed to appeal the dab. Eggs are thought to keep bad spirits away. When eggs are thrown, the egg-yolk “illuminates” the bad spirits and makes them visible. Eggs are also offered for the spirit’s children to play with. Whiskey is offered because spirits are attracted by odour. When the spirits are drunk, it is said that they “listen easily and go when they are asked to go”, as many Hmong informed me to explain the purpose of this offering (Source: field interview, H-R2 51). Whiskey is also a favourite “mediate substance” consumed by Hmong men during rituals to enhance social cohesion, pay respect to each other, and enhance enjoyment.
Food is usually offered to the spirits only in small quantities (“spirits can be deceived in this regard”), whereas paper money and incense sticks are often burned in large quantities to gain the spirits’ goodwill. The rituals accept, re-enact and reinforce the superiority of the dab and the ancestor spirits. “Ancestors eat first” as I was often told during rituals when the first parts of the meal were offered to the ancestor spirits of the house.
During rituals and offerings, the Hmong also attempt to make agreements with certain spirits. The fiv yeem (the promise made to spirits of all four directions) and pauj yeem (payment of agreed sacrifices) are a two-step ritual in which all the dab of ntuj, the earth and the house, are asked to protect the people. Before a field is planted, for example, an offering is made to the field spirit to ask it to protect the fields and help obtain a good harvest. The promise is made that the spirit will be offered more after it fulfils its part of the agreement with a good harvest. In that case, the farmer needs to conduct the pauj yeem ritual and offer the promised sacrificial items to the field spirit. If the second ritual is not held, bad luck may visit the people who did not keep their side of the agreement. This combined ritual can also be held to call upon the ancestors to reward the descendants with protection, health and wealth.
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The ancestral cult
The ancestral cult entails offerings from the male head of the household to the spirits of the dead relatives. In special cases, this requires the sacrifice of domestic animals. Approximately twice a month, the head of the household sits down, usually unobserved by other household members, to “feed (laig dab) the immediate ancestors rice and pork. The first part of every harvest, regardless of the crop, is always offered to the ancestors. On the final day of the old year, before the New Year celebrations begin, sacrifices are again made to the ancestors. Close observation of ancestor worship is compulsory to ensure the well-being of the family and even the whole lineage. Nyaj Sua, who is forty years old and a leader of the Yang lineage in Mae Sa Mai, commented as follows:
“They protect us and they can see what we are doing. When our ancestors need something from us, they make us sick and then we sacrifice to them and take care of them. If you offer them money, clothes, or food, they receive it and one day, they give it back to you.” (Source: field interview, H-C-MSM 5)
The ancestral cult unites the living and established mutual dependence between the dead and the living across generations. The ancestors are placed on a supernatural level, while ceremonies honouring the dead preserve the power structure and gender relationships of the living. Hmong people thus might be said to worship their own images, or , more precisely, the images represented by the male line of descent. Though relatively unchanging ancestral rituals, lineage members are encouraged to act according to group norms, such as providing help to lineage members if needed. Ancestor spirits are to be remembered, respected and fed with food and paper money in sacrificial rituals. The practice of feeding the ancestral spirits is called laig dab. In return for laig dab, ancestors protect the living from misfortune but bring illness and harm upon descendants when norms are disregarded and ancestors neglected. In the relationship between the ancestors and the living, a direct connection between the religious and the social domains of Hmong society is created:
“Ancestral rites are the symbols which express, regulate, maintain and transmit this association from one generation to another, thereby enforcing lineage solidarity and inspiring members to carry out their duties to the living, the dead and those yet to be born. [...] These worship activities clearly define the position of each Hmong, male and female, within a social system in such a way that both the religious observation and the social mutually reinforce and justify each other’s existence.” (Lee no year: 5-7)
When descendants fall seriously ill or a family suffers from misfortune, the shaman performs a ritual. The shaman’s tutelary spirits, for example, may show him or her that the ancestors have come to “knock on the door” of their descendants to request special sacrifices. When the “ancestors knock on the door”, there is a traditional order of animal sacrifice: at the first ‘knock’ (the first serious illness of a direct successor) the first pig (npuas rooj) must be sacrificed, at the second knock the second pig (npuas dab) is offered, and at the third knock an ox (ua ncuj dab) is sacrificed. In some families or lineages, the ancestors may never request a sacrifice of this sort, while another family may find that these sacrifices are demanded of within a span of only a few years. But as is the case with all ritual practices linked to ancestor worship, it is important to observe the ritual exactly as demanded. The ancestors “show the way”, as one informant explained. The shaman and elders are their intermediaries, and the younger descendants must listen and obey. The respect paid to ancestors thus has a politically legitimating and socially stabilising effect.
Only men may make offerings to the ancestors because only men are permitted to formally acquire this complex religious knowledge. Only men are permitted to sit down to eat the ritual meal, to ritually drink whiskey, and to strengthen social cohesion through formal speeches. During mortuary rites, only men may perform the various rituals, including playing the reed pipe and drum, officially communicating with the dead, and sending the soul on its way to China.[9] On the last night of the mortuary rites, men take turns being the intermediary for the deceased, who addresses the family for the last time in a speech or song that can last for hours. Women play only minor roles in rituals. They serve the men from the back, cook the rice during mortuary rites (other food and everything else is prepared by the men), and usually are not even permit at rituals like the lineage-centred lwm tauj (clean the house with a broom) ritual on the so-called “tofu day”. Women are also not present at the ntoo xeeb ceremony, when one representative of each household offers incense sticks to the sacred tree in the forest above the village. While women are not forbidden to join these rituals, only a few do so because “we are the minority there and we have to sit in the back which is boring”, as my neighbour, Zuam, Vaam Zeej’s wife, explained. Women are aware of the rituals, but are not permitted to carry them out, with the exception of the female shamans who have been “chosen” as intermediaries by the shaman spirits.
In summary, by way of their ritual practice, Hmong accept the superiority of supernatural agencies in cosmological space. These entities demand respect and can harm humans when they are not honoured, but may also act favourably toward people who offer sacrifices (see also Culas 2004: 111). Spirits are omnipotent, occupying every place on earth as well as the two spheres of the Otherworld, which every Hmong will join as an ancestor spirit after death and before reincarnation. In this regard, Durkheim’s theory that society only worships itself during rituals and by means of other religious practice is confirmed. By worshipping the ancestor spirits of the patriline, the kinship system and male hierarchy are maintained. Hmong society also maintains and reinforces the social order through its ritual practice. Rituals strengthen the bonds between the ancestors and the living as well as between individuals, households, lineages, clans and the Hmong people as a whole.
Conversion to other religions
Christianity was first introduced in the 1920s by missionaries to the Hmong in Thailand. As the list of villages and their populations’ religious affiliation in the appendix demonstrates, the majority of Hmong have chosen to preserve their traditional beliefs, which play an essential role in the survival of their culture and identity.[10] No definite figures exist on the total number of Hmong Christians in Thailand. Lue Vang (1998: 292; Lue Vang and Lewis 1990: 3) has estimated the number of Christians to be between five and ten percent of the Hmong population. In the twenty Hmong villages I visited, a mean of 25.5 percent of the villagers had converted to Christianity. This includes some villages with a proportion of converts of three to five percent, and two villages in which ninety-two percent and 100 percent of inhabitants have converted to other religions (see also Leepreecha 2001: 188).
The number of converts to Buddhism is even lower. In both villages in my study, no one formally observed the Buddhist religion. Nicholas Tapp (1989: 88) suggests that the Hmong have not adopted Buddhism because it is so closely associated with the fundamental values and beliefs of Thai society. Young Hmong boys usually attend Thai temple schools for largely pragmatic reasons, and remove the rope as soon as they have completed their education. Hmong people do not want to submit to the Thai system even though they do feel a certain sense of belonging. However, the Hmong act out this belonging on their own terms, if at all (see also Leepreecha 2001: 188).
Catholics, Protestants and Seventh Day Adventists apply different strategies in their work among ethnic mountain groups in Thailand. Catholics try to win converts by working with rather than against the “traditional” beliefs of the people. Protestants and Seventh Day Adventists employ culturally radical techniques that interdict certain aspects of Hmong culture and encourage “the burning of altars and shamanic equipment” (Tapp 1989: 99). In other words, Protestants and Seventh Day Adventists display radical intolerance of everything that is not related to their own religious beliefs. The Catholics, on the other hand, agree that some aspects of “traditional” Hmong religion may still be performed, including the major mortuary ritual qhuab ke (the opening of the way for the reincarnating soul of the deceased). Catholic Hmong are permitted to consume alcohol, smoke, eat pork, and perform almost all the ancestral rituals, including the mortuary rites. Protestants do not permit adherents to consume alcohol. The Seventh Day Adventists are the strictest, and forbid smoking as well as the consumption of alcohol and pork. This poses a great threat to Hmong identity and culture because many Hmong rituals contain offerings of pig and are followed by joint meals of a special Hmong pork dish, which Seventh Day Adventists are then not permitted to eat. Conversion to Christianity also causes problems for the kinship system because descent lines are maintained and reinforced by certain rites.
The Christian churches invest a considerable amount of financial and human resources to bring their religion to the Hmong and other mountain groups. “Teachers of God” and priests travel to the villages to find new converts, and Christian boarding schools in the lowlands provide free education as an incentive for parents to convert with their children. The Hmong Catholic Centre in Chiang Mai serves as a hostel, a Bible school, a religious centre, and a publishing house for Christian literature in Hmong. Since 1970, a Protestant radio station transmitted worldwide by the Far East Broadcasting Company (FEBC) in Manila, has broadcasted Bible instruction and preaching in the Hmong language (mtw-frequency 15095.0) Another radio station that transmits religious radio programs in Hmong is also broadcasted from the Philippines; it is called “Veritas Asia” (mtw-frequency 9615.0). Approximately 100,000 Hmong have been converted by these programs worldwide (cf. Tanabe and Keyes 2002: 14; Vang 1998: 76). The Protestant Church in Thailand receives significant backing by Taiwanese believers who support the church financially and send missionaries to travel to the Thai mountain areas.
Sau Mim Yaj, a former deputy (Phu Chuey) of the village headman in Mae Sa Mai and a gifted silversmith who is forty-two years old, told the following story about his conversion to Protestantism:
“My parents became Protestant in 1989 because they were both very sick. They suffered spiritually but traditional shamanic rituals did not help. So as a last resort they converted and then they got slowly better. I converted along with my parents because this is the custom. If Hmong do something wrong to the spirits, the sickness and the punishment comes to us. Then you have to pay and donate a chicken; you have to pay the spirits all the time. If you are sick or if you have bad luck, the shaman shows that the spirits are bad and aggressive. People have to pay and that is very difficult to follow, especially in the twenty-first century. In Christ you feel free. However, the different religions sometimes oppose each other as though in a war. Conflicts arise between Christians and people who believe in dab because we do not help each other in rituals; people blame each other for not helping each other even though they are lineage brothers. [...] But we still think that the new belief is more comfortable and offers more freedom. People learn more about the future. But actually I don’t know much about Protestant religion because I never went to a Protestant school. I just converted along with my parents and then believed in the one God. When my parents converted, they asked the former headman of Mae Sa Mai, who is the Protestant priest, to come to the house. He took the five spirits out of our house and burned them in the name of God. This way we became Protestants. Now we do not worry anymore when we go outside the house. We only think of God, we do not have to worry about the ancestors or spirits anymore.” (Source: field interview, H-R2 2-3)
Sau Mim’s story demonstrates the pragmatism of many people in their adherence to religion (see Lewis 2002: 569). People may decide quite pragmatically which belief suits them best, in which form and at what time. For example, Win Huj’s father, Txwj Xaab, was a ritual expert before he became Protestant in 1987. In 1998, he became Catholic because, he explained, the Catholic religion allows more room for Hmong religion, and for ancestral cult and shamanic practices. When he felt disappointed by Protestantism, Txwj Xaab did not convert fully back to the Hmong religion because he did not want to “be under pressure by all the different good and bad dab that are everywhere. The more we know about dab, the more we have to be afraid of them.” He continued:
“The Catholic religion is good because we only have to believe in one God but can still follow our traditional customs like the ancestral and shamanic rituals. For Hmong, it is easy to convert to Christianity since the Christian cosmos and the Hmong cosmos are quite similar. To believe half and half is the best way.” (Source: field interview., H-R1 17)
In his own research, Nicholas Tapp (1989: 101) also reported that most informants who converted “half believed” in the Christian teachings, while Prasit Leepreecha (2001: 235) speaks of a “trend of accommodating Christian beliefs and rules to Hmong traditions”. Anne Fadiman (1997: 35) agrees, noting, “to my knowledge, at least ‒ no Hmong is ever fully converted.” Most converts do so for social and economic reasons, for example because they want to save money by avoiding expensive and time consuming rituals, and hope to send their children to missionary boarding schools in the lowlands. However, most Hmong who convert also explain that their conversion should be understood as a strategy to circumvent the omnipotent influence and presence of the supernatural. The adherence to the spirits’ rules and norms seem to be a heavy burden for some Hmong.
Nicholas Tapp (1989: 85) also regards conversion to Christianity as an alternative to Thai identity and the state religion. By converting to a Christian religion, Hmong belong to a “dual” minority because of their different ethnic and formal religious affiliation. Christianity offers an alternative way to remain Hmong without being overly assimilated into the Thai state, as would be the case in converting to Buddhism. Being Christian provides converts with a religion and identity that is distinct from the Thai system and avoids the need for a decision between clearly maintaining Hmong ethnic minority status and becoming more assimilated into the majority society.
In Ban Phui, I also discovered a further reason for conversion to Protestantism. Because Hmong women in Ban Phui are more tied to their “traditional” roles as wives and “servants” of their husbands (see chapter seven), some seek to circumvent gender inequality and to gain more power (at least unofficially) within the religious field. At least ten women claimed that they were Protestant even though their husbands still believed in the traditional Hmong religion. Normally all household members must belong to the same faith as the male household head. Some women in Ban Phui, however, have “unofficially” converted to Protestantism and visit the church on Sundays where they can actively engage in rituals, personally influence their own fate independently of their husbands and other male kin, and acquire some positions of power normally withheld from women in patriarchal Hmong society. Men do not interfere with their wives’ religious activities; since the women are not permitted to convert on their own, the men take it as an unquestionable given that their wives are still members of the traditional Hmong religion. I suspect that Hmong women in Mae Sa Mai do not opt for this strategy of unofficial religious conversion because they usually enjoy more freedom than woman in Ban Phui due to the proximity of Chiang Mai and better education opportunities (see chapter seven).
Summary
Hmong religion is characterised by its complexity, its obvious Chinese influence, and its overriding impact on the daily life of its followers. Hmong believe they are everywhere and at all times surrounded by supernatural agencies and ancestor spirits ‒ a category to which the living will also belong one day. People are thus involved in a circle of birth, life, death, passage to the Otherworld, and rebirth. The Hmong I studied thus do not conceive of themselves as bound to a single place and time. Instead, they conceive of life as one of many stations on earth and within the Hmong cosmos. Hmong people “think big”, as they themselves claim. Space and time is relative; it is not limited to material existence in a specific geographical area or time, but can extend to other locations on earth as well as to the Otherworld, and can connect the past, the present and the future into a single whole. By means of a continuous flow of material and immaterial resources, the different cosmological spaces of the living and the spirits are interconnected; these socio-cosmic relationships are indispensable to the maintenance of the Hmong social order.
Because of its special ritual practice, forms of behaviour and belief, Hmong religious topography is a cardinal point that extends both into the horizontal and the vertical level (cf. Hauser-Schäublin 2003: 48). Relationships to the supernatural (under and above the earth) are constantly represented and manifested in the range of rituals that the Hmong perform almost every day. During a ceremony, a fusion takes place in relation to space (horizontal and vertical) and time. Past, present and future are interconnected through the ancestors, the living descendants, and the belief in reincarnation. The ancestors thus play a vital role in daily life and exert power over the living, demanding that they behave according to traditional Hmong norms (cf. Symonds 2004: 4). The equilibrium between ancestor spirits and the living descendants is an important aspect of Hmong socio-ritual structure. In the past, Hmong life was characterised by patterns of migrations and frequent resettlements. Under these conditions, Hmong belief and ritual reserved to anchor them in the Hmong cosmos. Geomancy provided guidance for behaviour in any mountainous environment, the Hmong’s natural habitat. Mountainous landscapes anywhere on earth are conceptualised as belong to the Hmong lifeworld, which is, applying Durkheim’s theory, mirrored in Hmong conceptions of the mountainous Otherword.
However, knowledge of the Hmong Otherworld and the ability to communicate with it varies greatly within Hmong society. Apart from female shamans, women, officially at least, are the least well informed about the Hmong cosmos, the omnipotent dab, and the rituals for interacting with the supernatural agencies. During their lifetime, most Hmong men acquire sufficient general religious knowledge to perform household rituals and offerings to ancestral spirits. Some men invest more time in learning religious knowledge to become specialised ritual experts (txiv dab) or assistant shamans. This allows them to perform specific rituals and acquire status in Hmong society. Although women are not permitted to perform rituals relating to the patrilineal ancestors, women who have acquired knowledge of medicinal herbs and the metaphysical cleaning of the body may perform certain healing rituals. Regardless whether they have specialised knowledge, all Hmong are socially expected to participate in great numbers in important rituals inside and outside the community. Bonds between Hmong, especially between kin, are strengthened and reinforced through religious practice. Rituals such as mortuary rites or New Year’s celebrations interconnect people on a large scale throughout the Hmong Mountains.
Ritual experts know ways to communicate with supernatural agencies. Only the shaman, male or female, has direct spiritual “access” to the Otherworld and can travel in a trance to the land above and below the earth. The shaman is the intermediary between the supernatural world and the world of the living; he or she has the power to “travel symbolically” (Culas 2004: 102). He or she serves his/her tutelary spirits (neeb) when they possess him/her, but also controls them to perform a diagnosis and cure. Through the shaman, supernatural agencies communicate with the living, control them, punish them for misconduct, and thus secure adherence to traditional norms and practices. The system of hierarchy that demands respect for the ancestors from the descendants has its equivalent among the living who must respect the elders and those with special knowledge. These latter ensure the continued adherence to religious norms and values and emphasise the transmission of the complex knowledge of the Hmong cosmos.
Hmong beliefs are closely interwoven with Hmong everyday life. Hmong who fail to observe religious principles are thought to have strayed from the path of life, and will probably fail to accomplish their goals. Only by adhering to traditional religious norms and beliefs, the Hmong believe, is it possible to achieve anything in life and improve one’s situation. Investing in rituals is not an irrational use of money, but an investment in one’s own fate and future.
To date, comparatively few Hmong have converted to other religions because Hmong religious belief is closely tied with the Hmong kinship system, healing practices, and identity. Many Hmong who convert continue to pragmatically adhere to the ancestral cult and shamanic practices. Others, like the Protestants and Seventh Day Adventists, are not permitted to observe syncretic religious forms, are confronted with conflicts with the Hmong majority who strive to maintain the traditional forms of belief as one of the core tenets of Hmong culture.
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[1]According to the Chinese system of calculation, the course of the day (as well as the year) is connected to twelve animals: the rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, goat, monkey, chicken, dog, pig, rat, cow, and tiger. Each animal is connected to an hour of the day, as well as to a day and a year. The day starts at 6 a.m. and ends at 6 p.m. The night is connected to twelve animals as well (the same as in the day). The Hmong name for this system of calculation is ntham xwg (literally: calculate with fingers).
[2]In my research sites, yeeb ceeb is clearly conceptualised as a mountainous sphere located underneath the earth.
[3]Nicholas Tapp (1989a: 61) recounts that Zaj resides in a palace at the bottom of the sea that is part of the sphere underneath the earth (yeeb ceeb) (see also Lemoine 1996: 165).
[4]Shamans are not possessed by the neeb but instead control the tutelary spirits for diagnosis and cure (Tapp 1989a: 72). For good descriptions of the sequence of events of a Hmong shamanistic trance see, for example, Lemoine and Eisenbruch 1997: 72-80; Lemoine 1996: 150-159.
[5]Four male shamans and one female shaman, who is not as often requested as her male counterparts, are active in Mae Sa Mai. Ban Phui has only two female shamans who are believed to know enough to carry out the standard rituals. When a special shaman is needed for a difficult illness, a male shaman from the Hmong village Khun Wang is either visited or brought to the village. Male shamans appear to generally have a higher reputation (see also Lemoine 1996: 143). Female shamans are not allowed to participate in rituals concerning the patriline of their husbands, such as calling in the plig of newborn babies or guiding the soul of the dead back to the Otherworld (Symonds 2004: xxvii).
[6]For a good drawing of a shaman’s altar, see Patricia Symonds 2004: 15.
[7]Nicholas Tapp (1989a: 66) has been told by Hmong people of his research site that the Hmong have learned the words of magic rites by the Chinese, the Thai, and their Karen neighbours. See also Roland Mischung (2004) for an essay on Karen techniques of magic and its limitation.
[8]During fieldwork, I was unable to attend rituals involved in the birth process because they are considered extremely private in Hmong culture. Because it would be considered “immoral” for a woman to attend marriage rites in my research sites, I also did not have the opportunity to participate in these ceremonies. For this reason, both birth and marriage rituals receive only parenthetical mention in this thesis in spite of their importance within the Hmong ritual cycle. Birth and marriage rituals include elements such as the soul-calling ritual, which also exist in other rituals. These are described in detail by Patricia Symonds 1991: 162-197, 136-149 and Christian Postert 2003: 207-261.
[9]Among the Hmong, death is conceptualised as a “journey to the land of darkness” (Symonds 2004: 110). It is accompanied by a cycle of rituals that the Hmong call “the way of illness and death” (kev mob kev tuag), which include complex funerary rites immediately after death that last for a number of days, as well as rituals that are performed some time (thirteen days to several years) after the burial. This second part of the mortuary rituals is not a second burial but is aimed at “setting the soul free” (tso plig) to permit the rebirth of the deceased. For a detailed description of these rituals, see Symonds 1991: 214-262; Lemoine 1983.
[10]It is known of the 2.000 Hmong people living in Australia, for example, that ninety-three percent of them also have retained traditional Hmong religious beliefs (Yang, Kou 2003: 279).