But Linh village pond

But Linh, formerly known as But Luyen, is located in An Hoa commune, Quynh Luu district. According to villagers, decades ago, standing at the edge of the village and looking into the distance, one could see a range of limestone cliffs, with two rock pillars rising like two pen holders and a pool of rock resembling an inkstone, hence the names Hon But (Pen Rock) and Hon Nghien (Inkstone Rock). The name of that village, that land, sounds solemn, as if it were a place renowned for its scholarly achievements.

"Not exactly. The village is predominantly agricultural, with a traditional basket weaving craft, and for about thirty years now, it has also taken up construction work. Life is basically comfortable, and the children receive a good education, but they haven't achieved the level of success and fame befitting the reputation of a land of learning. Perhaps it's because fate has tilted the Pen and Inkstone islands towards Quynh Doi?" - a villager confided.

The pond in But Linh village is filled with the fragrant scent of lotus flowers. Photo: Huong Thao

But Linh village has its own unique charm. The village pond – the very reason I came to But Linh – is full of stories that would fill my mind. Hoè, my classmate and a native of the village, one day wrote excitedly on his personal Facebook page that the village pond project had taken shape, that what was once a stagnant, garbage-strewn pond had now become a beautiful place with paved banks and the fragrant scent of lotus flowers every day.

The pond is the lifeblood and soul of the village. It's the green lung. It's also a symbol of feng shui. In the memories of the elders, the old But Linh village pond was full and crystal clear; you could see the bottom from the bank. At noon and in the late afternoon, returning from working in the fields, villagers would stop by the pond to scoop water with their hats to wash their faces, tidy their hair, and look in the mirror. Around the pond, people washed potatoes, sifted for clams, and the voices and laughter of the women and girls filled the air. In those days, during the dry season, villagers would carry water from the village pond to fill their jars and containers; during the flood season, everyone would gather their baskets, nets, and traps to catch shrimp and fish in the pond. The cool, breezy, moonlit pond is also a place for countless lovers to confide in each other and make romantic promises… The pond is so familiar and intertwined with the rhythm of village life that, whether intentionally or unintentionally, the villagers mistakenly call it "ao" (pond) as "o," like a village girl. Those who leave the village to go far and wide use the pond as a landmark to return to.

It was as if the village and the pond still remained, yet day after day, year after year, the village changed in the whirlwind of market life. Life became more prosperous, but the village pond withered away. Life became more hectic; how many people still carried their burdens to the pond's edge to relax? Every house now has a well and a tap providing water; how many people still ask for pond water to store in jars or containers?

It seems everyone is preoccupied with making a living, so fewer and fewer villagers sit by the pond, leisurely chatting. As a result, the pond has been forgotten… People casually throw trash by the pond's edge; wastewater from houses everywhere is also dumped into it. Gradually, the village pond – the mirror reflecting the village – has become a stagnant pool of water, an impromptu garbage dump. Visitors to the village can hardly imagine that it was once a pond! People turn their backs on the village pond, they… cover their noses to avoid it!

For easily several decades, the pond has been severely damaged and polluted. Occasionally, during casual conversations over tea or drinks, villagers would sigh and regretfully mention the pond, saying things like, "If only...".

The villagers of But Linh donated stone benches to erect around the village pond. Photo: Huong Thao

But having said that, the dredging, renovation, and beautification of the village pond had to wait for someone to take the initiative. In the village today, besides chatting over green tea, thousands of people from near and far connect through the "But Luyen Village" fanpage. The most lively topic there is the pond renovation project, which started in 2019, got bogged down by several outbreaks of disease, and is finally complete now. Hoè – the "unwilling treasurer" of the pond renovation project – regularly posts detailed and transparent accounts of contributions. The exact total is 350,832,000 dong, entirely from the heartfelt donations of the people of But Linh village, including their children, siblings, daughters-in-law, and sons-in-law from near and far.

"Treasurer" Hoè, holding out the notebook she'd kept for years like a treasure—a testament to her innate meticulousness and the burden of being a villager who always has to worry about everything—told me: "Everywhere you go, there are all kinds of people and all kinds of stories, but ultimately, the kindness of the villagers is precious! Look at this list; there are business owners who have made a fortune contributing tens of millions, people who run hawkers and sell goods contributing fifty or a hundred thousand, and children living far from home sending back five hundred thousand or a million... It's all about the sentiment, the small contributions, and the heartfelt devotion to the village and our roots!"

In But Linh, hearing the story of the village pond's beautification is deeply moving. Nowhere else is there such a profound sense of community as here, where the women and mothers who run the makeshift market at the edge of the village pool their small coins, smoothing them out and handing them to the "treasurer"; the young men of the village even plant vibrant bauhinia flowers around the pond's edge, diligently trimming and tending to the roots morning and evening; and the sons-in-law of the village contribute a row of solar-powered lights, making the pond's edge sparkling, bright, and beautiful…

Villagers in But Linh planted trees along the pond's edge, in response to the 2021 Tree Planting Festival. Photo: Huong Thao

The stagnant pond has been revived, with villagers planting fragrant pink lotus flowers, transforming it into an ideal community gathering place every morning and evening. Walking along the now-bright red brick-paved banks, one can hear the voices and laughter of children, the radio playing exercise music, and the villagers discussing whose fields had a good harvest this year, whose child just got into university, and gossip about family matters, outside affairs, and even world events – a feeling of shared joy with the people of But Linh village!

However, there are still concerns! Concerns about the project still owing the contractor over a hundred million dong, and the continued need for generous support from people near and far. Concerns about how long the pond, now beautifully renovated, will remain clean and beautiful, depending on the awareness of some residents and the responsibility of the local government. And even more concerning, a greater hope: that after the success of the village pond project, everyone will unanimously agree to restore some spiritual sites in the area. Like the village pond, the ancient temples and shrines still hold a special place in the memories of the villagers; they still whisper stories of their sacred reverence to their children and grandchildren. Restoring them is not simply about spiritual belief, but more importantly, about igniting and passing on to future generations the flame of love for Vietnamese heritage.