Where are the green walls?

(Baonghean) - Just looking at the high and low walls stretching out in front of me, covered with broken pieces of porcelain, bottles and tangled with barbed wire, I greedily wished that my village still had green walls, fluttering with bees, butterflies and birds.

Illustration photo - Source internet

The countryside is now very different from the past! The surrounding walls have extended to remote, isolated places. Some walls are built of stone, others are built of bricks, of clams. Some walls are only as high as a person, but some are taller than a person. Most of the walls are just rough construction, however, some are painstakingly plastered by the homeowner. Some walls are even tiled with shiny ceramic tiles by the homeowner. Sometimes, being stuck between two rows of narrow, closed-off walls, the feeling is so strange and cold, as if you are setting foot in a place that is no longer your hometown. The peaceful, poetic countryside picture of the past has receded into the past!

I still remember clearly, in my old hometown, the house between houses was green walls, sometimes just a tree stump, a row of sugar cane, a bank of banana trees, a “green hedge of Malabar spinach” like the countryside painting of poet Nguyen Binh. The people of my hometown, the upper village, the lower village lived together in harmony among birds, animals, and plants.

The tree wall surrounding each house not only protects against wind, dust, and theft, but is also an ideal place for us children to leisurely play and giggle during naptime. It seems that every child in the countryside at that time was very fond of these types of tree walls. There were guava, apple, fig, and sycamore trees... each season had its own fruit. For me and my "young buffalo" friends, the most favorite were the rows of xoan trees in front of the yard, outside the alley, and along the winding dirt roads.

The presence of brick walls means that green walls no longer exist. The reason given by my hometown people is not unreasonable. They believe that building a wall is to clearly define the boundaries between houses, contributing to protecting the interior of the house. With a solid wall, ducks and chickens will find it difficult to escape and run around. And that way, loud voices, conflicts, and disunity among neighbors can be avoided.

However, there is an undeniable fact that when solid walls are built, they invisibly create a separation between the simple and honest villagers who once shared eggplants and bowls of soup. They live in isolation within many layers of walls, only when necessary do they step out of their boundaries cautiously and cautiously.

Just looking at the high and low walls stretching out in front of me, covered with broken pieces of porcelain, bottles and tangled with barbed wire; looking at the children who only knew how to wander around the house and yard, absorbed in cartoons or video games, I suddenly realized how lucky and rich my childhood was. At that time, I wished that my hometown still had green walls, fluttering with bees, butterflies and birds.

Because of the loss of green walls, the climate has become increasingly harsh, with summers being scorching hot and winters freezing cold. Floods and droughts have caused crop failures and crop failures in every village. Ultimately, the reason is environmental change and ecological imbalance, and the planting of new trees cannot compensate for the number of trees that have been cut down.

Where are the lush green hibiscus trees with bright red flower lanterns? Where are the graceful rows of areca and coconut trees running straight in front of each house? The rows of banana trees that grow rapidly and densely behind the kitchen? The rows of mahogany trees that bloom every March, floating in purple? The walls that soothe our souls after the hardships and chaos of life?

Perhaps that green fence now only remains in the memories of those who once lived in their homeland!

Nguyen Hoe