The soul of Vietnamese bamboo

(Baonghean) - Only now, as an adult, as the villagers say, as someone who has been away from the bamboo fence of the village for decades, have I truly understood each word, each letter of the poet Nguyen Duy. After so many years, listening to it again, I still feel a stirring in my heart, as if the image of bamboo, as well as the rhythms of the poem, have intertwined like a rampart in people's memories and souls. Talking about bamboo is whispering, passionate, as if talking about a very familiar person...

“Green bamboo

Green since when?

Once upon a time...

there is a green bamboo bank...

Photo: Trong Sach

So familiar that sometimes, I suddenly realize that bamboo has been with Vietnamese people since birth, until they are taken to the other world. The day my grandmother passed away, the bamboo pole carried her to the fields, I remember so much the nights sitting with her on the small cot, under the moonlit yard filled with the fragrant scent of areca, my grandmother told me that the day she was born, my great-grandfather used a bamboo stick to cut the umbilical cord. Sometimes, in my dreams, I still see the peaceful picture of my childhood, my grandfather, his hands quickly tying each soft strip on the bamboo fence, and my grandmother sitting sifting rice in front of the porch, in the early autumn sun with a little dew that has not yet evaporated. Oh, even in my dreams, bamboo is present, so familiar! But it is not just me, who is Vietnamese, carrying a deep nostalgia for their homeland, does not love bamboo, does not miss bamboo? In this whole country, there are nearly 200 species of bamboo. Born, met bamboo.

Bamboo creaks in the summer afternoon nap. Bamboo gives boys a fishing rod, gives girls a shrimp net, a set of fishing rods. Bamboo gives grandmother a dipper to revive the dry fields, gives mother a white hat to protect from the sun and rain, gives grandfather a pipe with smoke drifting up to the sky, gives strict father a bamboo whip to beat playful children... Poet - musician Nguyen Vinh Tien is so talented, the bamboo whip is written into poetry, into music, so that the final image "My father throws the bamboo whip up to the sky" makes people want to cry... Bamboo leans to make a bridge over streams, over ravines. Bamboo bends its back to make a pair of hard-working shoulder poles. Bamboo waves a bunch of thin leaves to make a pole to ward off evil spirits. Bamboo leans to support gourd and squash vines to climb up to produce flowers and fruits. Bamboo spreads out, sways and sings and creates shade, becomes a wall, becomes a city...

I remember the days of my childhood, when I and the children in the village competed to pick bamboo leaves to drop into the pond to make boats. Our tiny green boats moved gently along the water, with giggles and happy cheers. At night, we children often invited each other to catch fireflies under the bamboo groves. Strangely, even in the dark, I could still see the bamboo showing its deep green color, only that the green color was darker. And for us back then, the flickering light of fireflies, the mysterious rustling of bamboo shoots in the wind, the dark and silent bamboo roots... became the stories of our childhood. My father was a soldier, far from home, every time he heard the sound of a bird chirping in the bamboo grove in the afternoon in front of the gate, my grandmother would come out to wait, "Your father is probably coming home soon." And every time I missed my father, I would go out to that bamboo grove and silently hope for the bird to call: “Oh, bird, bird, where are you in the rustling leaves? Please speak your prophecy that my father is about to return.” When I grew up and toddled away, the bamboo grove at the village entrance was the first landmark, the signal from afar that I saw in the joy of returning.

Bamboo is so attached, shared and devoted that it is impossible to count all the things that bamboo has given to humans. It is also impossible to express all the gratitude of humans to bamboo. To the point that bamboo is considered as a symbol of personality and character. To the point that many people have suggested choosing bamboo flowers as the national flower. Loyal, diligent, resilient, brave... but the difference in bamboo, the thing that makes people call bamboo rows "bamboo fences" is that bamboo never lives alone. Bamboos rely on each other to endure the rain and sun: "If we love each other, bamboo will never live alone". The solidarity of bamboo to fight against natural disasters and enemies, the more we think about it, the more we love it. Bamboo has no place for arrogance, for separate "I"s, but for solidarity, unity, and consensus.

It is not by chance that since ancient times, bamboo has been mentioned in folk songs and ancient stories. There is no Vietnamese who does not know the story of “The Hundred-Joint Bamboo Tree” with the poor farmer who was given a magic spell by Buddha to make the hundred bamboo joints stick together, the story of the three-year-old boy Saint Giong who suddenly grew up and used bamboo to fight the Yin invaders, the story of “The youngest girl in the bamboo tube” with a tiny girl who could fit into a bamboo tube... Many people still know the love lines under the bamboo shade: “The moon's shadow tilts the bamboo shadow/ My dear, stop and listen to me swear...”. So affectionate, so loving, but sometimes bamboo stirs up hatred: “Hey sisters/ The wind blows the bamboo branches/ Let's go together to the old bamboo roots to sharpen spikes/ The moon rises to light up the whole field/ At midnight, the villagers sharpen spikes to avenge their revenge”. And it is also from bamboo that flutes, the to rung, the monochord... have raised the passionate voice.

I am a child of the North, living in exile. I thought that I would forever live in the nostalgia of a corner of my old village. But then one day, the cool green color of the bamboo groves in the countryside of Nghe An warmed my heart. I suddenly understood that I was living in exile in my own homeland, where everywhere were Vietnamese people, Vietnamese souls. The green color of the bamboo made me feel like I was back in the past, with the children floating leaf boats on small canals, inviting each other to catch fireflies despite the mysterious rustling sound of the bamboo bushes in the dark night. I was the child of the past again, obediently lying with my head on my grandmother's lap under the bamboo grove, enjoying the cool breeze from the bamboo fan, the last memory I could remember of my grandfather. I was back to being a person full of aspirations, eager to leave with great ambitions, longing to burn like fire, to bloom like bamboo flowers, waiting for a hundred years to bloom golden once in a lifetime despite the fading after that.

I loved the folk songs where the bamboo shade, though faint, still permeated the soul of Nghe An villages. I loved the villages where the joy of weaving baskets, making blinds, making trays, making incense sticks... with talented craftsmen for hundreds of years still bustled. Like many other rural areas in Vietnam, the bamboo and rattan weaving profession developed in many villages in Nghe An. Being a region with many advantages in natural resources, Nghe An formed large bamboo and rattan weaving villages, supplying rattan and bamboo products to provinces in the country and exporting them abroad. I also met the people of Bao Hau (Quynh Hau, Quynh Luu), they proudly told me about the artisan Nguyen Van Quan from their hometown, who nearly a hundred years ago not only established a theater troupe but also invented a bicycle made of wood and bamboo, which surprised the French officials.

Going to the West, I again encountered vast bamboo, with many legends about bamboo. The Dan Lai people in Con Cuong told me the sad story of their entire nation associated with the legend of 100 golden bamboo trees and a rowboat. The Thai people in Quy Hop told me the tearful love story of Tao and a girl from Na Pe village. The young man was so heartbroken when he lost the girl he loved that he planted his flute in the ground and cried so much that his tears created a puddle of mud and the flute made from bamboo sprouted and grew into a bamboo bush. Because Tao planted the flute tip in the ground, the bamboo bush had upside-down eyes.

One of the stories that is still passed down is also related to the upside-down bamboo species in Western Nghe An, associated with Ly Nhat Quang's march to suppress the rebel Ai Lao army. After defeating the Ai Lao army and restoring peace, Ly Nhat Quang led his troops back. When he reached Khe Che area, below Thanh Nam (old Tuong Duong district, now Con Cuong district), the local people came out to welcome and congratulate him on his victory. Touched by the sincerity and thoughtful welcome of the people, Ly Nhat Quang and his soldiers stopped to chat and celebrate their victory with the local people. During the celebration that year, he held a pipe, took a long drag, then put it down on the ground. Unexpectedly, the pipe was an upside-down piece of bamboo. So later, from the pipe grew a bamboo tree with its head down and then its tip straight up to the sky.

Artisan Luong Van Thoai, a Muong Khun Tinh native, told me about the familiar bamboo rice tubes of the Thai people, which originated from the nomadic, poor life of the past. Now, bamboo rice has become a specialty in the city. For the Thai people, when there are important events, they do not forget to cook bamboo rice, such as when asking for a wife, holding wedding ceremonies, worshiping, funerals and even big festivals such as the village rice, the village rice, the commune rice, the gas khan... He also said that he is grateful for the rice husk wine tube made from the bushes in front of his house. His grandfather, thanks to his talent in making rice husk wine tubes, was able to support his father's education, and when he went to school, his father, thanks to those rice husk wine tubes, was able to support him during his university years.

How happy and proud I was to hear that the Vietnamese bamboo house project won the AR House Awards, a famous international architectural award organized by the long-standing British architectural magazine Architectural Review. The bamboo houses are designed in a very modern and beautiful way while still maintaining the rustic, natural look of the raw materials, which are mobilized entirely from nature. The bamboo works of Vietnamese architects have made international friends admire not only because they are beautiful and environmentally friendly, but also because they aim to solve housing difficulties caused by natural disasters and storms in an era where the climate is increasingly changing and becoming more severe. Looking at the spacious and splendid bamboo houses advertised in many famous magazines of the world, I could not help but feel moved when thinking about the village, where I, like many other Vietnamese people, have left, many people turned back because of the blue sky and the green bamboo groves rustling in the distance. I am still me, a person who, no matter where I go, will never forget my homeland and soul...

Thuy Vinh