Street singers on the city sidewalks

Misfortune and Salvation

Once upon a time, young Vi Van Ngu dreamed of becoming a soldier carrying a gun. He nurtured his dreams in the fields and mountains where he and his friends herded buffalo and cut grass every day, where the pages of his notebooks were stained with the mud and dirt of poverty in the small village of Khe Than (Nghia Binh, Tan Ky). Then tragedy struck. A landmine left over from the fields of Tan Ky took away Vi Van Ngu's eyes and right arm. The sounds of life, unintentionally assaulting his hearing, only intensified Ngu's pain. The chirping of birds in the trees behind his house, the rattling of vehicles on the village road, the laughter of his friends after school, the splashing of water in the river... Even the bright sun was now only felt as a warm sensation. Therefore, it's easy to understand why Ngu's house, the room where he slept, was always kept tightly shut.

For six long years, he locked himself away, locking away his dreams, contemplating his departure. Until one day... When he was alone in his small room, facing four silent walls and darkness, Ngữ walked aimlessly and stumbled upon the guitar that the neighborhood youths used to leave behind when they came to play and encourage him. The sounds that emerged awakened a vague yearning within him. Ngữ trembled as he hugged the guitar to his chest, his other hand searching for the strings... How could he play this guitar? How could he see, paint a life full of light, express the dreams that had faded? Determination surged within him. He practiced day and night. His five fingers bled. He clutched the guitar to his chest, his other hand working tirelessly to harmonize and tune the strings... When the first note took shape, he was so happy he cried. It ignited hope and faith in life within him. Day after day, the sounds of music and songs warmed the house that had been closed for years, attracting more and more friends. He was encouraged to join the District Association for the Blind. There, he realized that many people were even more unfortunate than himself. Therefore, the songs were no longer just mournful lamentations, but also included joyful tunes. And in that remote village, people were buzzing about a blind man who played the guitar with one hand and sang songs that moved people's hearts. He became even more well-known after being sent by the Nghe An Association for the Blind to compete and win a Gold Medal in the "Singing from the Heart" competition organized by the Vietnam Association for the Blind in 2000. Two years later, he won another Gold Medal in the Folk Art Festival organized by the Ministry of Labor, Invalids and Social Affairs. For Vi Van Ngu, music had become his salvation!

Every day, Mr. Ngữ and Ms. Hương sing on the streets to make a living.

Love

Through music, Ngữ found joy in life, but his young heart never dared to think of love, of a home filled with the laughter of children. However, during a trip to the province to rehearse for a performing arts festival, he met Nguyễn Thị Hương, a Braille teacher and singer from the Nghi Lộc Association for the Blind. She was born into a family where her father was blind, and she and her younger brother also suffered from congenital visual impairment. Sharing similar circumstances and drawn to each other through music and singing, they confided in each other about countless things they thought they had kept buried deep within their hearts. These were the sorrows and hardships of their impoverished and disabled childhoods, the dreams they couldn't realize, the longing for familiar paths, the faces of loved ones, and the books that opened up new horizons… And both their hearts yearned for a light shining down on their lives: love. The greatest, most unexpected gift that God bestows upon those who have experienced much misfortune.

But when they expressed their desire for a wedding, they faced countless difficulties. More than anyone, Huong's mother understood how difficult it would be to marry a blind person. And with both of them being blind, what would their lives be like? But the young couple overcame all obstacles and prohibitions. The wedding of the blind couple, organized by the Association of the Blind, took place amidst mixed feelings of joy and sadness. They walked hand in hand amidst admiring and sympathetic glances, believing they were holding onto happiness.

After getting married, having no place to live, the couple sought shelter in a small corner of the Tan Ky Association for the Blind's headquarters. Every day, they wandered around selling toothpicks and chopsticks. Later, they moved to Vinh. In 2003, the wife's grandmother gave them a small plot of land in Hamlet 5, Nghi Lien, and a small house was built with contributions from members of the Association for the Blind and neighbors. Their two children were born one after the other, amidst the anxiety of whether they would inherit blindness like their mother, Huong. Fortunately, both children are healthy...

Heartache

The burden of making a living weighed even heavier on the couple's shoulders. Selling toothpicks and chopsticks became increasingly difficult. Many nights, the couple stayed awake, sighing inwardly. How could they survive, raise their children, and repay the kindness of those in similar circumstances who had contributed their sweat-soaked money to build them a home? Unable to bear it any longer, the couple thought of their guitar... It had brought them joy, their love, and once again, they relied on it to continue their struggle for survival. So, every day, from dawn, people would see the blind couple, carrying their guitar and old speakers, making their way to the city center. Sometimes they walked, sometimes the wife would carry her husband on their rickety bicycle. Their two children were left in the care of their grandmother. And every morning, the grandmother would lean against the door, watching the two children's figures disappear into the distance, her heart aching with worries: She wondered if their journey would be safe, if they would earn enough money for their school fees, if they would have the strength to sing anymore...?

Simple happiness.

Recalling their first time singing on the sidewalk, both of them choked up. But then they encouraged each other: "No one wants to make a living by street singing, but we have to live, we have to provide for our children, our elderly mother... Besides, we're working with our own strength, and it's hard work and difficult." And so, their songs began to be sung in morning cafes and lunch restaurants, filled with poignant emotions. The city sidewalks became their refuge. Until, when the city lights came on, they would return to their small home. There, their elderly mother and two young children were waiting...

Conclusion

One morning, you might decide to escape the hustle and bustle, seeking a quiet corner. Are you lonely, seeking peace and quiet, or perhaps wanting to reflect on yourself after a long, exhausting journey, to recognize the true values ​​of life that you've pondered so many times? On such a morning, you might have walked through a crowded city and stopped on a sidewalk where a folk singer is performing a traditional song. The singing seems out of place amidst the hurried, busy pace of life. It's out of place, not simply because it's a folk song, but because the singer is singing with such heartfelt emotion. So heartfelt, amidst the clinking of spoons stirring sugar in coffee cups, amidst the simultaneous ringing of telephones in every corner of cafes and restaurants, filled with business deals, stocks, and football, amidst the diligent work of shoe-shining children scrutinizing million-dollar leather shoes...

And you'll be stunned to see them, a blind couple walking hand in hand on the sidewalk, singing as they go: "Who knows whether the Lam River's water is clear or muddy? Who knows whether life is shameful or glorious..." The husband, his eyes filled with darkness, his amputated right hand resting on his wife's dimly lit body. A guitar hangs precariously from his chest, his left fingers plucking the strings and pressing the frets. The strumming of the guitar enhances the wife's voice, as if drawn from her very soul. The noisy streets hear their singing as if it were a street vendor's cry. The blind couple walks through the sun, through the rain, through the seasons of budding leaves and falling foliage, through hardships and indifference. Small bills tremble in their hands. Each evening, those bills are straightened out, used to buy rice, firewood, and pay for their children's school fees...

The two walked through many streets, singing one song after another. It was winter, yet the husband's forehead was dotted with sweat. For him, playing the guitar with only one hand was an immense effort. When his wife grew tired, she took the microphone and leaned close to him. At that moment, the one-handed guitarist began to sing: "I hear the melody of my homeland. Gentle in the lullaby…" With that song, few knew that he had once won a Gold Medal at a music festival. It seemed that when he sang, the pain in his eyes, the pain from his right arm lost in an accident when he was 16, vanished. And his childhood dreams seemed to return, settling in his heart…

Pham Thuy Vinh