A night at the Yin-Yang Market

On a single night each Lunar New Year, villagers in Bắc Ninh gather at the centuries-old Yin-Yang Market, where incense smoke, silent prayers and black chickens carry messages between the living and the dead.

BẮC NINH — Lê Quang Dũng left his home in Thái Nguyên Province after sunset, travelling to a market he had never visited before. He did not come to buy or sell, but to stand quietly in the dark and light incense for his son, who passed away last year.

Dũng was among the thousands who gathered at the Yin-Yang Market in Ó Village, Bắc Ninh Province. Held only once a year, on the night of the fourth day of the Lunar New Year, the centuries-old gathering is believed to be a moment when the boundary between the living and the dead dissolves.

Lê Quang Dũng, from Thái Nguyên province, burns votive paper for his late son. For many, the market is a rare opportunity to send offerings and prayers to the deceased through the ritual of fire.

Under the flickering light of burning votive offerings, hundreds of people gather at the Yin-Yang Market in Ó Village, Bắc Ninh. The market, held annually, is a space where the living seek to connect with the spirits of the departed.

Under the flickering light of burning votive offerings, hundreds of people gather at the Yin-Yang Market in Ó Village, Bắc Ninh. The market, held annually, is a space where the living seek to connect with the spirits of the departed.

Under the flickering glow of burning votive offerings, hundreds moved through the shadows. The market’s origin is rooted in history and loss. Nguyễn Văn Hoàn, an elder from a neighbouring village, said altars are set up to honour more than 2,000 soldiers who died in ancient battles during the era of the Trưng Sisters.

“Flocks of black crows once swarmed these fields, which is how the village got its name. This is where the two realms meet. Our deceased family members come here, and we burn paper offerings for them.”
ELDER NGUYỄN VĂN HOÀN

Elder Nguyễn Văn Hoàn and his relative Nông Bích Việt share the historical trauma behind the market's origin. The site's name, Ó village, is tied to a time when black crows swarmed these very fields.

Operating without bright lights to avoid scaring away lingering spirits, the market runs on faith. The most coveted item is the black chicken. Resident Nguyễn Chiêu Huân was one of the lucky few to secure one, turning down multiple offers from passersby who wanted to buy it off him.

"People buy black chickens for spiritual reasons," Huấn explain. "They bring them home and sprinkle a few drops of blood around the front gate to ward off evil spirits and invite good fortune."

This year, demand was unprecedented. According to Huân, all 360 chickens sold out in just 40 minutes at 260,000 VND each.

Unable to purchase a black chicken of their own, a visitor touches the head of the bird held by Nguyễn Chiêu Huân to seek good luck.

Unable to purchase a black chicken of their own, a visitor touches the head of the bird held by Nguyễn Chiêu Huân to seek good luck.

In keeping with the silence of the night, transactions are often made with few words, as if any loud noise might disturb the visiting souls.

In keeping with the silence of the night, transactions are often made with few words, as if any loud noise might disturb the visiting souls.

In the hush of the night, the market emerges without the usual noise of commerce, wrapped in a veil of mystery and reverence.

In the hush of the night, the market emerges without the usual noise of commerce, wrapped in a veil of mystery and reverence.

In Vietnamese culture, smoke and fire are seen as messengers, carrying the prayers of the living to the world of the ancestors.

Small flames flicker in the cold air, acting as silent guides for ancestors wandering back to the world of the living.

However, beneath the bustling but quiet trade, the market serves as a collective space for grief and hope. Nguyễn Thị Huệ, who brought her family to the market, stood quietly burning paper money in the cold night.

“They say if we burn offerings, our ancestors will receive them,” she said. “If we have made mistakes, we hope for their mercy and protection. Perhaps our ancestors are walking among us tonight. We ask for their blessing.”

Nguyễn Thị Huệ and her family huddle around fires to send offerings to ancestors. The smoke and embers create a bridge between the physical world and the spiritual realm.

Nguyễn Thị Huệ and her family huddle around fires to send offerings to ancestors. The smoke and embers create a bridge between the physical world and the spiritual realm.

With no electric lights to be found, a sense of mystery permeates the Yin-Yang Market in Ó village as thousands of visitors arrive to pay their respects.

As the night progresses, the boundary between the living and the dead remains blurred. Visitors leave the market with a sense of peace, having fulfilled their spiritual duty. — VNS