Peace in the Catholic neighborhood

(Baonghean) - For the past five years, I have been regularly returning to this peaceful Catholic hamlet and have seen the pace of life still flowing smoothly and quietly. The veterans I have met and been close to for a long time, more than anyone else, know how to appreciate the peaceful life here...

“This season is a big win, brother” - Mr. Tran Van Suu’s voice, residing in Team 3, Thanh An Commune (Thanh Chuong), rang out from the other end of the line. “I invite you to come and visit me.” For many years, despite being hundreds of kilometers apart, my family and Mr. Suu’s have become close, even though each of us has a different hometown and different beliefs. Just now, he informed me about the recent spring rice crop. The yield reached nearly seventy quintals per hectare.

Mr. Suu did not forget to remind me that when we reached the fork in the trail, “call me to pick you up.” But I decided to walk to his house. These days, everyone in the house must be busy harvesting. At this time, many places were harvesting the spring rice crop, including Mr. Suu’s village team.

Every time he returned to the Catholic hamlet of Team 3, Thanh An Commune (Thanh Chuong), Mr. Suu often had to ride his motorbike from his house nearly 3km away to Ho Chi Minh Road to pick me up. His hospitality made him reluctant to let me walk for forty minutes. But this time, I “escaped” him and walked in, because I wanted to leisurely admire the countryside scenery of the semi-mountainous region. The rice fields were cut by undulating hills. This season, the mua trees began to bloom with small purple flowers. They hid behind the bushes as if children were playing hide-and-seek or from the windows, shyly looking out at me.

The countryside scene is bustling during harvest season. Groups of people go to the fields to harvest. Men drive buffalo carts, a means of transport used by people in this semi-mountainous region for hundreds of years.

My younger brother got married here, so every year I visit my “in-laws’ house” in a small hamlet that is mostly Catholic. Here, for hundreds of years, Catholics and non-Catholics have lived together, bonded and united. After the rooster crows, people call each other to go to the fields, and at noon they call each other to drink green tea. Coming here, the hustle and bustle of the city suddenly melts away, time seems to stand still. Small houses have thatched roofs next to them. Around the houses is a garden with perennial plants. On summer days, after lunch, men and young men hang hammocks under the canopy of leaves to take a nap. Let the cicadas sing freely.

People of team 3, Thanh An commune (Thanh Chuong) threshing rice. Photo: Huu Vi

Honestly, I felt relieved when I returned to this small village where traffic was still very difficult.

Today I suddenly remembered that this was the first time I had come during the harvest season. I arrived at the village entrance quite early. At this time, the sun had just begun to rise over the hills surrounding Cau Cau Lake. Yet there were already a few buffalo carts carrying rice back to the village. The sound of the threshing machine was rumbling. The pile of straw thrown by the machine by the roadside was as high as half a areca tree.

On the road to the village, the scent of new rice wafted in the air. A group of young women, wearing conical hats and masks covering half their faces, were harvesting in the fields with sickles in their hands. Another group did not carry sickles, but their hands and arms were covered with cloth socks. This group only had to go to the fields to collect the rice and transport it home because their families had rented a combine harvester. This farming tool was not unfamiliar to farmers in the delta, and had only recently been rented by farmers in the village.

After 2 alleys, we arrived at Mr. Suu's family's house. When he saw me appear from the entrance, he kept complaining: "Oh my God, I told you to call me out. Why are you walking so hard?" Mr. Suu was small and dark, with gentle eyes but his movements were as quick as when he was a soldier. He was a veteran who fought in the Vi Xuyen - Ha Giang front in 1984 - 1985. In many conversations with me, the veteran occasionally mentioned the battles of the past. For several months, he and his comrades guarded a high point called "zone 4 bunkers". When the gunfire was quiet, from inside the bunker, we could hear the enemy talking on the other side of the bunker. "That was the moment when we loved this life the most." - He once confided. That is why, when he returned to his daily life, this veteran, who is also a Catholic, loved the golden harvest seasons even more. It was no coincidence that he called me to “come home” during the harvest season. A successful rice crop was the pride not only of Mr. Suu but also of the entire poor neighborhood in this semi-mountainous area.

“This spring, our family harvested more than a ton and a half of rice.” Mr. Suu stopped threshing and welcomed me into the house. His family was probably one of the few in the village that still used a small electric threshing machine. It was mechanized, making the work less tiring.

In the small yard in front of the house, countless golden rice grains raced to fall following the rotation of the machine. The family had many children, always seven or eight mouths to feed, making this farming family quite hard-working. "If everyone came back, this family would have more than ten people, almost a platoon, not a joke." - Mr. Suu humorously joked. Although the years in the army were not long, they left a deep impression on the personality and lifestyle of this parishioner.

A man in his sixties emerged from the yard and quickly walked into the house. It was Mr. Tran Van Ban, Mr. Suu’s older brother. “You’re here again. Long time no see?”, Mr. Ban held out his hand to me. He had just returned from the rice fields. Sweat was streaming down the wrinkles on his cheeks. He looked at me and laughed loudly, his silver-flecked hair shaking with his hearty laughter.

Summer day of children of team 3, Thanh An commune (Thanh Chuong). Photo: Huu Vi

Like his younger brother, Mr. Ban also spent 7 years in the army in the southern battlefield. After the war against the US ended, he continued to work in the army until 1982 when he was discharged. Since then, he has been attached to his homeland.

After a puff of tobacco, Mr. Ban pointed to the pile of rice that was gradually filling up the yard of his younger brother's family and said: "This season can be called exciting. The rice yield is estimated at about six and a half quintals. My family also has a good harvest. This year's straw is bigger than last year's."

The sun was gradually getting hotter. In the alley, people were returning from the rice fields. From the path leading to the house, through the rattan fence, a young couple could be seen walking in. I recognized Mr. Suu’s daughter, who had just turned twenty this year. The girl’s name was Nga, and her boyfriend walked home hand in hand after the harvest. I asked, “When are you two getting married?” The girl shyly lowered her head. The boy smiled gently and replied, “At the end of this year, Nga will finish her marriage education and then get married, brother.”

The girl took off her conical hat on the porch and took off her mask. Her delicate face, like a student who had just left school, suddenly showed a relieved smile as she took the glass of water from her boyfriend.

In the quiet afternoon, over a pot of freshly brewed tea, two veteran brothers told me about their village and the changes. Now, the young generation is gradually moving away from traditional agricultural production. They bring machinery and equipment to the fields. They try to make the rice flowers fuller and have more grains. They discuss planting tea and raising livestock to improve their income. Poverty is still there, but changes are also emerging.

I heard their stories and suddenly thought: In some places, people still rush into vain ambitions, but the way of life here is still very simple. More than anyone else, the Catholics who have experienced war like Mr. Ban and Mr. Suu know how to love the peaceful life in this semi-mountainous countryside.

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