The village’s “Little Gong Ensemble,” formed in 2022 with 40 members aged between 10 and 17, has become a symbol of how Vietnam’s younger generation is preserving a tradition recognized as the soul of Central Highlands culture.
![anh-1.jpg](https://en-cdn.baogialai.com.vn/images/3ce379c0f5ed8e10666b869b9c9a2a6956f3b957dfeb0e84de33186829c38fd8923ce7f991b06c4677f7658afe9fa786/anh-1.jpg "The "Little Gong Ensemble" of Kươk village (Sró commune, Gia Lai province) during a practice session. Photo: Minh Chí")
A revival led by a village elder
For centuries, the gong has been central to the spiritual life of the Bahnar people, resonating at every festival and ritual, from harvest celebrations to funeral rites. Yet in recent years, migration and changing lifestyles threatened to silence the music.
Đinh Pít, Head of the Kươk Village Front Work Committee, witnessed festivals without the gong’s presence. Concerned that the tradition might disappear, he began teaching children to play three years ago.
“The gong has been in my blood since childhood,” Pít said. “If the next generation does not know how to play, the village will lose part of its soul.”
At first, convincing children to learn was difficult. Parents had to be persuaded, and lessons competed with school and daily chores. But slowly, curiosity grew into passion. By 2022, the “Little Gong Ensemble” was born, with Pít both founder and teacher.
Young artisans of the Highlands
Today, Pít’s yard has become a gathering place where children rehearse for two hours each afternoon, and more intensely before festivals.
For some, the gong is a way to relax after class. “I get to meet and make friends with others who share the same interest. It’s so much fun,” said Đinh Hiu, born in 2008.
![anh-3.jpg](https://en-cdn.baogialai.com.vn/images/3ce379c0f5ed8e10666b869b9c9a2a6956f3b957dfeb0e84de33186829c38fd828a53da4b9514eabcb12fab02457dcb0/anh-3.jpg "The "Little Gong Ensemble" of Kươk village performing at the 1st Sró Commune Party Congress, 2025-2030 term. Photo: Minh Chí")
The youngest member, 11-year-old Đinh Sách, has already mastered several gong pieces. “Every summer and evening, I go to Uncle Pít’s house to learn more,” he said softly.
The ensemble now performs at village and commune-level events, each performance strengthening both skill and pride. “When the children can perform a complete gong piece, I am happier than when I play myself,” Pít said. “It means the flame has been passed on.”
Photo: Ngọc Sang
Passing the rhythm on
Elsewhere in Gia Lai, veteran artisans share the same mission. In Kép village, 75-year-old Ksor Kol still welcomes local youth every weekend to learn. “In joy or sorrow, we play the gong,” he said. “To keep it alive, we encourage our children and grandchildren to practice.”
Kép village is also home to a women’s gong ensemble, founded two years ago by Kol’s wife, H’Chaih. “Preserving our identity requires unity, regardless of gender,” she said. “That’s how our women’s group began.”
The intergenerational effort has inspired younger villagers. “My grandparents and parents all know how to play, so I started when I was little,” said nine-year-old Ksor Khiêm. “I want to help more people know about our culture.”
Photo: Ngọc Sang
Heritage across generations
From the small but steady hands of Bahnar children in Kươk to the persistence of elders and women in Kép, the gong tradition continues to echo across the Central Highlands. More than an instrument, it remains a bridge between past and future – a sound that carries the memory of ancestors while forging pride in a new generation.
