Goong Lake in the autumn afternoon

(Baonghean) - I've heard many friends from the North and South confide that they love Nghe An because they cherish the rich flavor of a cup of green tea, fondly remember the melancholic folk songs and chants on the Lam River, and are captivated by the alluring eyes and charming voices of the Nghe An girls. For me – a child born and raised in this land – these things have become ingrained in my being. If I slow down and calm my mind, every moment brings back vivid images of my homeland.

In Vinh City, autumn has arrived, and the wind is cool enough to make one crave a hot cup of coffee. Usually, at times like these, I seek out a café by Goong Lake. It's quiet, relaxing, and full of charm. Goong Lake isn't as vast as West Lake, nor does it possess the nostalgic charm of Hoan Kiem Lake, but try visiting Goong Lake on an early autumn day, and you won't be able to remain indifferent to its peaceful and gentle beauty.

Goong Lake as seen from Ngo Sy Thuc Street. Photo: Ngo Kien

Autumn mist lingers over the lake, clinging to the pristine clusters of fragrant milkweed flowers in the street corner. On weekends, the lakeside cafes are almost always full. Despite the crowds, there isn't a hint of noise. Everyone is quiet and gentle, as if afraid to disturb the tranquil atmosphere and the ethereal, pristine beauty of autumn by the lake. An old artist sits by a small window, exhaling wisps of smoke, his eyes half-closed, lost in thought as he listens to the music of Trịnh Công Sơn.

“Why wander aimlessly, weary of life? On our shoulders rest the sun and moon, illuminating a realm of coming and going for a hundred years…” This melody is usually meant to be listened to when time stands still in the dead of night, when one is immersed in the dreamy world of Trinh Cong Son's music, when life is no longer hectic. But at Goong Lake, one can find this music, letting their soul wander at any time. Perhaps it's because Goong Lake is tranquil and subtly melancholic.

I once chatted with a college friend at the small table where the old artist sat. It was a bitterly cold winter afternoon, a thick fog covering the lake, only revealing glimpses of the clothes of the women selling roasted sweet potatoes nearby. Sipping a hot cup of coffee, my friend suddenly asked, "When was this lake formed?" His question made me pause. I'd been attached to Goong Lake for a long time, visiting it five or seven times a week, yet I'd never bothered to find out its origins. Our conversation continued to the soothing melody of instrumental music in the café, but the question about Goong Lake's origins remained unanswered.

After some time had passed, I happened to go to the library to research the history of Vinh City and learned that after the second phase of colonial exploitation (in 1914), the French built the Truong Thi Railway Factory. To build the factory's foundation, they had to excavate a large amount of earth. These pits were initially ponds and swamps, which gradually formed lakes. At that time, laborers pushed wheelbarrows carrying earth across the road, and the earth was used to build the railway tracks as it was excavated. Later, the locals became accustomed to calling it the "wheelbarrow lake," and the name became so familiar that it was recorded in documents, sometimes misspelled as "Goong" (meaning "wheelbarrow lake").

After our meeting at that cafe, my friend moved south to start his career, and we contacted each other less frequently, forgetting about the story of Goong Lake. Living amidst the hustle and bustle of Saigon, does he still remember the tranquility of Vinh City, the autumn afternoon by the lake shrouded in mist, and the unanswered questions?... As for me, I remain here, seeking solace after the daily grind, letting myself slowly drift along the city streets. Sometimes, sitting by the lake, I murmur the strange-sounding name – Goong Lake – a name stemming from a sad historical truth, and my heart aches with longing for my old friend…

But Vinh wasn't always so sad and pensive. Goong Lake, located within Nguyen Tat Thanh Park, was an ideal destination for elderly people practicing Tai Chi every morning, for young couples chatting on the park benches, and for children excitedly enjoying the ride on pedal boats brought by their parents. There were also times when Goong Lake was very lively and bustling; but not in a chaotic way, but rather with the sounds of life. Goong Lake was a multicolored tapestry with varying shades of light and shadow.

Once, while strolling along the lake shore, I came across an image of two elderly people walking hand in hand. Their steps were slow, their wrinkled hands clasped tightly, and a peaceful smile shone through the creases of their eyes. It was the smile of people who had lived through all the storms of life, experienced all the flavors of existence, and in the end, only eternal love remained. Happiness is that simple…

But there are also corners of the lake where the happy bluebird hasn't yet chirped. There, the figures of thin, gaunt shoe-shining children can be seen. With wooden boxes in their hands, these children wander the streets, stopping at cafes and sidewalk stalls hoping to earn a few pennies to make ends meet. Sometimes, exhausted, they fall asleep on the grass by the lake, sometimes under the sweltering summer heat, other times shivering in the winter wind. Another time, while sitting on the second floor of a cafe, I caught the sad, longing gaze of a little girl selling cotton candy. She silently watched the children playing with their parents in Nguyen Tat Thanh Park. I waved her over and asked to buy a pink cotton candy. Was it made from sugar or from her sweat and tears? I tasted a salty flavor on my lips…

Thus, Goong Lake nestles amidst the main roads, witnessing the stories of life, the people, and the transformations and changes of the city. Living under the hardships of colonial rule, the people of Nghe An rose up to fight for justice, their heroic revolutionary spirit echoing the drums of 1930-1931. After the devastating war, the citadels, temples, and other structures were largely damaged. Only Goong Lake remains, peacefully situated in the heart of the city, witnessing the suffering and indomitable spirit of the people of Nghe An. And today, it witnesses the steady progress on the path of integration and development of this sun-drenched land. The vitality of Vinh City is surging powerfully through its steel core. Numerous projects and urban developments have been, are, and will be built. Vinh will reach even further, shine even brighter, pushing aside poverty and backwardness to stand firm at a new level.

But Vinh will not lose its gentleness, its warmth, still entwining with longing in the hearts of strangers. Because Vinh possesses the simple, rustic charm of Goong Lake. As for me, Goong Lake is a place to go, to visit, and to return to. When my heart is heavy with worldly sorrows, weary of the hustle and bustle of life, I return to Goong Lake, letting my soul drift with each wave, merging with the boundless embrace of heaven and earth, finding peace and tranquility. That alone is enough for me to love this place dearly, so that each time I leave I miss it, and each time I am near it I feel a sense of wistfulness.

Phuong Thao