A day in the salt fields

Salt fields in Duc Long village (Quynh Thuan commune, Quynh Luu district). Photo: Phuoc Anh

Traditional profession

“There is a forecast for a thunderstorm this afternoon!” - Mr. Pham Minh Tuan said loudly in place of a greeting. At 4am, almost all the old and young men and women in Duc Long village (Quynh Thuan commune, Quynh Luu district) woke up one after another, carrying their embroidery, heading out to the fields, their shadows swaying in the dim light of the misty morning.

The wind blows coolly in this field, hundreds of people are used to working hard, bending down to plow the soil, spreading water, drying salt... In the field, there are old people in their 60s and 70s, and even children of 7 and 10 years old, whose eyes are still half-closed from sleep, but whose hands are still working quickly and diligently. Regularly, until 7 or 8 a.m., the whole village comes back to prepare meals and housework; waiting until noon, when the sun is at its strongest, the salt workers put on their coats, scarves, and hats to go to the field, working until 6 or 7 p.m. before resting.

Children working hard in the salt fields is a familiar image here. Photo: Phuoc Anh

Children here are familiar with salt making from the age of 3 or 4; even earlier, when they are just taking their first steps, their mothers carry them to the fields. There is no other way, because in the dry season, the adults in the house have to work hard, and if they leave the children at home, they cannot rest assured. So they carry and lead them around, doing whatever they can, the older children spread water, stir the soil, and dig ditches, the younger children rake salt, the younger ones are wrapped in a blanket, their mothers place them against the wall of the salt warehouse and then they sleep soundly.

Born and raised on the salt fields, when asked about the tradition of the profession, everyone smiled and said it had been around for a long time, from generation to generation, so old that no one could remember when it started.

“In Quynh Thuan, every village makes salt, and each village has a different story about the origin of the profession. We only know for sure that the salt profession in Quynh Thuan existed before the 14th century, because when the Ming army invaded our country, history books clearly recorded that they sent troops here to plunder the people’s salt, and at the same time imposed many laws to oppress the people from making salt…” - Mr. Pham Minh Tuan said.

Salt farmers in Duc Long village, Quynh Thuan commune, sprinkle water on salt fields. Photo by Phuoc Anh

Mr. Tuan is currently the head of Duc Long village, a former commune official. After retiring, he returned to his familiar salty fields. In his conversations, he did not hide his pride in the traditional salt profession, saying that "from the South to the North, just say that Duc Long salt originated and people will accept the goods without having to test the quality. The salt here is not bitter, not harsh, just the right amount of saltiness, and when tasted, it still has a sweet aftertaste!"

According to Mr. Tuan, the secret to making that special salt is the traditional salt making recipe of the Quynh Thuan people. On the flat land, salt farmers use plows to plow it up, then dry it completely, then use harrows and axes to make the soil fine and smooth like powder. The soil is put into a tray (used to filter the water) and then compacted, then salt water is scooped in. The salt water flows through the tray to become water, which is stored in wells to dry gradually. The salt-drying oo nai uses lime and sand mixed finely, spread evenly, compacted, and then covered with a layer of oyster mortar. In addition, to help the oo nai absorb more heat and evaporate quickly, people also brush on a layer of charcoal soot. Cracks and holes are patched with crushed leaves of boi loi mixed with lime and soot mixed with molasses... The salt making process is completely manual, producing pure white salt grains, the precipitation of countless sweat and tears of the diligent workers.

Loading salt onto a wheelbarrow to push into the warehouse. Photo: Phuoc Anh

Saltier than salt

In this world, there seems to be few jobs more arduous than salt making. Leaving at dawn and returning at dusk, worrying about the sun and the rain. A good harvest is a common saying among salt makers, meaning that the sun must be strong and long to be favorable, otherwise if it rains after a few days of sunshine, they will lose more than they gain. But the weather is not in their favor, the weather is increasingly unfavorable, the salt makers are both working and worrying. Even this year, the salt season will end in a few weeks, because the weather in autumn is already erratic.

For the salt farmers of Duc Long village in particular and Quynh Thuan in general, salt brings them a livelihood, joy, but also a lot of sadness. Once upon a time, salt was considered “white gold”, but in recent years, the salt fields have lost many pure white salt grains.

“The village has 261 households, making 365 plots, but now about 100 plots have been abandoned,” said village chief Pham Minh Tuan thoughtfully. The salt making job is extremely hard, with bare feet pressing into the burning salty water all day, with backs red and bruised from the sun, but the income is not much. In the lowest year, the price of salt dropped to only 120,000 - 130,000 VND/quintal; but this year, if the price is considered good, it is around 250,000 VND/quintal. “A quintal of salt is not worth a kilo of rice!” - the salt farmers of Duc Long village sadly said.

On a peak day, only about 100 kg of salt can be produced. After harvesting, the salt is stored in temporary warehouses, waiting for traders to purchase. Photo: Phuoc Anh

Working hard from dawn to dusk, mobilizing the whole family's labor force, but each day the highest income is only 200,000 - 300,000 VND, sometimes only 100,000 - 150,000 VND, not to mention the initial investment cost. Even more difficult is the salt industry facing the challenge of output. Currently, there is no unit or enterprise that buys the products for salt farmers, the salt produced is completely dependent on private traders to buy, the price is unstable, the market is unstable.

Life became increasingly difficult, so the salt villagers had to give up their jobs and find other livelihoods. A day's wage for a construction worker was higher than a day's wage for a salt worker, and even working as a market boy or motorbike taxi driver also brought in a decent income. Even though they regretted their traditional job, even though they missed the familiarity of the salty mornings and evenings, the salt villagers had to leave their homeland...

Pure white salt grains, the result of countless sweat and tears of diligent workers. Photo: Phuoc Anh

Saltier than salt are the drops of sweat and tears of salt workers. Saltier than salt is when those old and young men and women bend their backs pushing wheelbarrows, carrying millions of grains crystallized from hard work day and night, and hear the market price getting lower day by day. Saltier than salt is when you and I, in the middle of a sleepless afternoon, hear the cry “Salt!” and suddenly wake up, look through the window, and see someone hunched over on an old bicycle, carrying a pair of baskets to pile up a mound of pure white salt. A lifetime of salt is full of hardships and suffering, but still full of hope for tomorrow…