Pages: 1 2

Linh and the Fortune-Tellers

Chris Galvin

My Vietnamese mother-in-law believes there are good days and bad days for everything. The date and time of any undertaking, she insists, have a significant effect on the outcome. When my husband and I first told her we’d decided to get married, she nodded, saying she would consult a thầy bói – a master fortune-teller – the next day. It was February, and we wanted to have the wedding before mid-July, when I would return to Canada for a few months. The bói suggested our birth years might not be the best match, but we could balance this by having the ceremony on a certain day in early May.

We worried that we wouldn’t have enough time to prepare, but the auspicious date was the most important factor, as far as my mother-in-law was concerned. My husband told me he didn’t believe in fortunetelling, but insisted we had to follow tradition. My in-laws also sought the advice of a bói before building their house, and before doing anything really important. Diviners determine the best time to marry, to move into a new home, or to bury a family member. Like many others in Huế City, my in-laws take the advice of thầy bói very seriously, even if they’re not happy with it.

According to the lunar calendar, everyone is born into one of twelve animal years. Some are incompatible, while others are perfect matches. If a bói finds that a hopeful couple’s birthdates clash, he or she will advise against marriage. A bad combination invites disaster. The bói will also divine the time of day at which various ceremonies should be performed. Traditionally, a wedding could take place on any day of the week, possibly even beginning at dawn or in the evening, according to the bói’s advice. These days however, in Việt Nam’s bigger cities, bói often recommend evening or weekend weddings.

Some fortunetellers specialize in astrology, while others read cards, palms, or the facial structures of fortune-seekers. At the beginning of each lunar year, people flock to bói, sometimes lining up for hours, to hear predictions of what the year holds in store.

I first met Linh, a friend and business-woman, in Huế when she was looking for someone to help her improve her already excellent English. A few times per week, with me riding pillion on her motorbike, she would bring us to a café, where she’d treat me to coffee in exchange for conversation. Linh’s favourite pastime is visiting soothsayers to hear her fortune. She’s probably been to every single one in and around Huế.

One evening we hunched over her notebook, the few lamps and candles in the coffee house offering just enough light for her to write any new vocabulary. She put her pen down, leaned back, and looked at me, eyes sparkling with reflected candle-light.

“Teacher, have you ever had your fortune told?”

“No, have you?”

“Many times. Would you like me to bring you to a fortune-teller? ” The shadows on her face shifted, her features rippling in the flickering light.

“Were they right? Have their predictions come true?” I asked.

“Some were bang on. Most of them aren’t very good” she said, “but I can tell you who to avoid. Some just guess, or tell you general stuff that can’t miss, like if you’re a teenager, they say you’ll marry soon. But some are amazing. It’s fun.”

“Hm. So, who would you take me to see? I keep hearing about a guy named Cao who’s famous around here. You know him?” Linh was surprised that I knew about Cao, but she said that he was so famous, he didn’t meet with just anybody.

“His specialty is Feng Shui, so people consult him about which direction their new house should face, or when it’s auspicious for a business opening. He works at the Centre for Artifacts, he’s the official geomancer for Huế, and he only does readings for good friends and high ranking people.

Linh switched to Vietnamese. “There’s a guy on the old Bao Vinh road though; he’s supposed to be good but you have to get there at 3 a.m. and line up to see him. I went once. I didn’t think he was very good. Maybe I was too young, only twenty-four, so he didn’t have much to say. They say the older you are, the more accurate his readings are.”

I had noticed our waitress inching closer and closer, and now she was seated at the next table, openly staring at us. I’m used to having people listen in on my conversations, mostly because they’re surprised to hear a foreigner speaking Vietnamese, but this girl looked like she would fall over if she leaned any more forward. After a while, I returned her gaze. Taking this in stride, she asked if Linh had taken me to see the young man who was making quite a name for himself in the tourist quarter of Huế.  “He’s so interesting. I heard so many people say how good he is, I went to see him myself. He tells your fortune from a leaf.” She dragged her chair over to our table.

“A leaf?” I asked.

“Yes. He tells everyone to pick a leaf from a big tree outside his house. You just pick any one you want. When it’s your turn, he reads your fortune from your leaf. So many people were waiting to see him; I went several times before he read mine.”

“You’re right,” said Linh, “I went about seven times before I was able to see him. He’s only in his twenties but he’s famous. He speaks English too, so sometimes tourists go to him. After he came back on holidays while studying in Singapore, a spirit possessed him suddenly.  He’s been fortune-telling ever since. He never even went back to ‘Sing’.”

Pages: 1 2