My hometown riverside...

(Baonghean) - Since the time of land reclamation and settlement, our ancestors always considered "water resources" as the number one priority when choosing land to establish villages. Therefore, while ethnic minorities in the highlands built villages by streams, the Kinh people in the delta built villages along rivers. In short, villages "follow" the river. But water is not only essential for daily life but also for agriculture, as waterways facilitate transportation; and also because the abundant fish and shrimp resources in the "mother river" can alleviate the worries of some people struggling to make a living.

Where there are rivers and villages, there are riverbanks.

Dozens, even hundreds, of river landings line the rivers. Long rivers have many landings; short rivers have few. In the past, there were almost no bridges. To cross a river, people had to "go to the landing." River landings were formed where sections of the river were conveniently located for people to cross. Crossing the river by ferry or on foot depended on the depth of the water and the width of the landing. Based on the method of crossing, river landings were divided into two types: "Ferry landings," usually located in narrow, deep sections of the river where ferries could dock close to the shore without running aground. "Walking landings," on the other hand, were found in alluvial plains, wide riverbeds, and shallow water so that people and livestock could wade across the river...

The riverside in my hometown. Photo: Sy Nhiep

Each riverbank has its own unique name. These place names might be named after a village, an event, a specific object on the bank... Or, more amusingly, sometimes it's just the random name of a wise man from the time when the riverbank was first opened! Most of the names of rural riverbanks are very simple, rustic, and endearing – you can picture them immediately: Big Bank, Raft Bank, Banyan Tree Bank... But sometimes, strange and unusual names appear; for example, the river in my hometown has a bank called... Book Bank! I don't know where that "cultural designation" came from; after all, the village on the bank was poor year-round, struggling to make ends meet, so how could they even think about books!

Like temples, markets, and pagodas, riverbanks were also gathering places – a kind of public center for community activities in the old Vietnamese villages. Yes, they were lively and bustling; but it was a uniquely characteristic liveliness of the riverbank. It didn't have the buying and selling atmosphere of a market, nor was it constrained by the solemnity and rituals of a temple. It was a kind of informal, relaxed, and free "end-of-day playground." Farmers, traders, buffalo herders, and people who made their living from the river and ferry would leave the riverbank in the morning and return to gather there in the evening. Stopping at the riverbank, surprisingly, the vast, open space of the river and sky seemed to open up the hearts of those who did so as well. Therefore, few people would turn away after passing by the riverbank in the evening. No matter how hurried, they would spend five or ten minutes immersing their faces in the cool river water, or sitting on the sandy bank with acquaintances, chatting idly...

...And then there's childhood. Childhood spent playfully chasing after the gleaming black buffalo, happily plunging into the river. Childhood splashing around beside the wet, plump yellow cow, standing with its feet in the water, dreamily gazing at the crimson sunset in the west, lingering, reluctant to come ashore...

...And night falls. And the moon rises. The moon, tilted obliquely, casts the shadows of a young couple secretly meeting at the riverbank. The moon generously scatters gold across the shimmering river surface. The moon illuminates the riverbank, diligently recording in its chronicles stories of dreamy love, as enchanting as the moon itself...

Y Nguyen

(Phu Yen)