As I walked the tree-lined entrance to Hang Doung Cemetery, a heaviness pressed down on me. The site was lovingly maintained and the silence broken only by birds chirping, a rooster’s crow, an occasional dog barking or the wind through the trees.
I was surrounded by grave upon grave, most of them unnamed. Every grave however, had incense sticks and flowers as if all their suffering was not forgotten.
Following the meandering paths, I stumbled upon Vo Thi Sau’s grave. The teenage resistance fighter’s huge grave was covered with flowers and fruits. While I stood by, one woman prayed before her tomb while two others added to the already substantial array of flowers.
I discovered later, another shrine dedicated to her was opposite the museum in Con Son.
From here to there 