Ho Sy Duong Street: Memories of the Street

(Baonghean) - The stories of the streets are just fragments of memories, but sitting with them, right on this street, sipping a cup of strong Gay tea and watching the sunset gradually drift down the street, one can feel the rustic, simple feelings of the street. They talk about the street intimately and simply, but still exude an undisguised pride in the street.

The street has not yet taken on the "modern" look of a first-class urban area, nor is it as bustling as a specialized commercial street. Everything about the street is average and moderate, only a little bustling at dawn and dusk, but the new look that has changed over the past decade in the architecture of the street-front houses still cannot erase the memories of decades ago in the minds of the old people here.

I sat with a bicycle repairman, a sticky rice seller, a chicken porridge seller to collect their memories of the city...

First of all, let me briefly talk about the characters of this article. I hope readers will not complain that the epigraph is too long, because I think that understanding the people on the street will somehow, miraculously, help us understand the soul of the street.

I say “street people” because the people I am about to mention here may just be the “owners” of a few square blocks of bricks - where for nearly half of their lives, they have built a crooked bicycle pump and a toolbox covered in grease to make a living. They are not city dwellers, they do not have a house on the street, but more than anyone else, they, with their many aspects of making a living, quietly and busily, are the ones who “feel” the street with all its most authentic qualities.

The first character is Mr. Nguyen Van Sam, 72 years old this year. Mr. Sam has a haggard appearance, a wrinkled face with crow's feet, and a halting way of speaking, seemingly not very talkative, but if you are careful, he can still be lively. He said that his house is on Tran Thu Do Street, but if you are meticulous, it is easier to be attached to Ho Sy Duong Street than to his home: "In a few months, it will be 40 years since I have been repairing cars here, counting from October 1975. I am a soldier of Uncle Ho, defeated the American invaders, the South became independent, the country was unified, and then I returned. Then the long time after that, I struggled to make a living here!" (the intersection between Ho Sy Duong Street and Ho Tung Mau Street).

That was about Mr. Nguyen Van Sam, and about Ho Sy Duong street, after a long time, he finally pieced together the story like this: that the street has a beautiful name, but for decades now, people who live far away remember the street's name, they just call it "Giao Te chicken porridge street". When going out to eat, whispering "Come to Giao Te porridge" will definitely lead you to the right place; when taking a taxi, saying "Take me to Giao Te chicken porridge street" is certainly not wrong. He told the story, then pointed to a row of shabby shops with bamboo and thatch, rickety wooden tables and chairs, and some vendors waving fans waiting for customers, saying "exactly" this is the porridge row!

If you were not a resident of Vinh Street in the early 1990s, it would be difficult to imagine the appearance of Ho Sy Duong Street at that time and those shops, which later became such a familiar name. Decades ago, the street had already been shaped as it is now, meaning one end intersected Ho Tung Mau Street, the other end intersected Nguyen Tien Tai Street and turned into two alleys, touching Van Duc Giai Street and Vinh Yen Street. Although it was a defined route, the street was only about 2 - 3m wide, deserted and sparsely populated. At that time, Vinh Street residents followed the "trend" of living in alley houses, afraid to go out on the street, especially in the central area of ​​the Provincial Post Office - Ho Chi Minh Square - Nghe An Radio - Television Station today. Who would have thought that only about ten years later, this area would "prosper" into the city's golden real estate.

Then, Mr. Nguyen Van Sam introduced me to the famous porridge seller on this street. Mrs. Linh, now in her sixties, enthusiastically told me about the street that had been with her all her youth. Mrs. Linh's porridge shop was located deeper than the temporary stalls at the beginning of the street. Taking advantage of the spacious yard, she renovated the living room to put in a few dining tables in case there were many customers. She said that this food stall started from 6pm until 3 or 4am the next morning. While waiting for customers, she happened to hear a lot of stories about the streets. She said that before the street was as bustling as it is now, there were several shabby rows of dormitories for officials and employees of the Provincial Post Office and the Provincial Radio and Television Station, and a little further in, there were dormitories for teachers at Huynh Thuc Khang High School. The street was full of typical collective activities of the early 1990s. Later, following the general development of the city, the collective housing blocks were gradually divided into lots and sold at individual prices to each household. The old collective memories gradually faded, the houses in front and behind had flat roofs and high floors. Later, only the collective housing area for teachers of Huynh Thuc Khang High School remained.

The stories of the streets are just fragments of memories, but sitting with them, right on this street, sipping a cup of strong Gay tea and watching the sunset gradually drift down the street, one can feel the rustic, simple love of the street. They talk about the street intimately and simply, but still exude an undisguised pride in the street. Like the sticky rice seller at the beginning of the street, originally from Quynh Doi (Quynh Luu), who married a man who has lived on Ho Sy Duong street for decades, and gave birth to four children who are now all grown up. "I have become a Vinh person, where is Quynh Doi anymore!" - she laughed heartily. Becoming a Vinh person, but the place of her hometown, associated with the famous name of Ho Sy Duong - the person who gave the street its name - she will never forget. She will never forget, and she will never lose her pride because even though she is far from home, she is still lucky to live on a street that reminds her of her homeland. Unknowingly, she became a "tour guide" for customers who came to eat sticky rice every morning, or even people on the street who casually asked: "Who is the name of Ho Sy Duong?"

At those times, she would reveal her knowledge, her pride, her love for the city, that: Ho Sy Duong was originally named A Ngoc. As a child, A Ngoc was very intelligent, at the age of 15 he had learned all the letters from the teachers in the area and followed his father to Yen Lac, Quan Trieu, Dong Thanh (now Yen Thanh) to study with teacher Mac Phuc Thanh from the North. At the age of 18, A Ngoc changed his name to Kha Tri, took the district exam and became the top student, and passed the Huong exam as a student.

At the age of 23 (1643), Kha Tri passed the Nghe An exam and passed the Tam Truong exam the following year. Because of a great mourning (his father died in 1648), he could not take the next Hoi exam; and because of his livelihood, he went to teach in Quang Xuong, Thanh Hoa, then changed his name to Tran Do and took the Huong exam in this town and passed the Giai Nguyen exam again (some documents say he took the exam for someone else).

When discovered, he was stripped of his title of First Class Doctor of both schools and had to serve three years in the army. Thanks to his achievements, he was discharged early. In 1651, with the new name Sy Duong, he passed the First Class Doctorate exam at Nghe An school, but due to his "criminal record", he was demoted to Second Class Doctor. The following year, he took the Hoi and Dinh exams and passed the Third Class Doctorate exam. Then, in 1659, he passed the second class exam at Dong Cac - a special exam to select talented people in literature to join Dong Cac Academy.

The king's grace bestowed on those who passed the exams was the same as the grace bestowed on the Tam Khoi, so Ho Sy Duong's academic degree was recorded in books as Bang Nhan. He served as an official in the capital under 4 kings: Le Than Tong (1649 - 1662), Le Huyen Tong (1662 - 1671), Le Gia Tong (1671 - 1675), Le Hy Tong (1675 -1705); 2 lords: Thanh Do Vuong Trinh Trang (1623 - 1657), Tay Do Vuong Trinh Tac (1658 - 1682)...

That is an excerpt of the biography of the famous man named Ho. As for this story, the sticky rice seller said it was important, whispering, the people passed down the story of Mr. Ho Sy Duong bringing a wooden fish to "come to the capital to take the exam", which later became a "symbol" for the tradition of studiousness of the entire Nghe An region. The story is, in the year At Dau 1645, Ho Sy Duong took the Huong exam. Among the things he brought, his wife, Mrs. Truong Thi Thanh, put a wooden fish in her husband's cloth bag, and said: "You are of the Wood element, bring this wooden fish with you, Wood + Wood becomes a Forest, your career will surely be successful." During the days of waiting for the exam, at mealtime, there was no food, so he put the wooden fish on the tray to admire. Ho Sy Duong remembered the old story, Cao Cao led his army to fight the enemy, through the desert, the soldiers were so thirsty that their throats were dry... Cao Cao pointed ahead: "There is an apricot forest there!" When everyone heard about the apricots, their mouths naturally watered, relieving their burning thirst. For several days, when eating rice, there was only a wooden fish on the tray, Ho Sy Duong still "ate" it deliciously. That time, he passed the exam, was appointed as an official, and the story of "wooden fish coming to the capital" followed Ho Sy Duong's name to all four directions.

The sticky rice seller stopped talking. I wanted to ask, where did she read the story of the wooden fish associated with the famous person Ho Sy Duong? Is it accurate, because currently among the people, there are many different versions circulating? But then the sticky rice seller was looking dreamily into the distance, where the lines of cars and the shimmering faces of people were passing by. Surely, she was immersed in her nostalgia for her homeland, or perhaps, she was still imagining the scene of a poor scholar from Nghe An who had a simple meal but became successful? Well, for the pride of such a simple person, it is understandable that the folklore is not yet clear. But if you are more careful, then please come to Ho Sy Duong street one fine morning, stop by the sticky rice shop to "have" a plate, then, leisurely ask about the street and the road to make it clear, it is still not too late...

Phuoc Anh