"Question marks" on the salt fields

(Baonghean) - Are you curious about “question marks”? If you have passed through the salt fields in the hot noon sun, you will surely be haunted by the human backs. The backs are curved like question marks, on the fields shimmering with phosphorescence. And in this article, we would like to mention those “backs” - those “question marks”, not only because of the nature of their work, but also because of the burden of age, of the hardships of a lifetime on the fields of their homeland.

Mr. Truong Van Tam and Mrs. Le Thi Tuong (Kim Lien hamlet - Dien Kim - Dien Chau) on the salt field.

When the sun begins to shine after the cold winter days, the salt farmers of Dien Kim (Dien Chau) are busy preparing for a salt crop. They prepare to go to the fields, plow the land, arrange the fences, and re-roof the salt sheds. The rice fields are dried neatly, starting to fill with water, waiting for the sun to "ripen". The people of the three salt villages of Dien Kim (Kim Lien, Bac Lien, Nam Lien) can only rely on salt to make a living. They take the hardship as joy, exchanging sweat for the salty taste of life...

A life with salt

Since the March heat, every day Mr. Truong Van Tam and his wife, Mrs. Le Thi Tuong (Kim Lien hamlet), both over 80 years old, wake each other up at 3am. In the small, old house built in the 70s of the last century, the red light is turned on. The house is so simple that even the rusty bicycle with no brakes has become the most "valuable" item. Mrs. Tuong fumbles on the squeaky bamboo bed, peeling areca nuts and wrapping betel leaves. Mr. Tam opens the door, goes to the corner of the yard to find a wheelbarrow, a shovel and a spade (tools for tilling the soil and scooping salt). She reminds him to bring a bottle of water. Then at around 4am, the two of them trudge down to the field. The two shadows are bent, carrying the long, wobbly poles and spades in the dim light of the sky and earth.

At this time, the village road has also started to get crowded. People are calling to each other to predict the weather as if it is the eternal greeting of salt farmers. It is 4am in the field, there is still a bit of cool wind. Working hard, diligently, some shovel the soil, some water the soil... Working until about 7 or 8 o'clock, then going home, having dinner. Waiting until noon, when the sun is at its hottest (after 12 o'clock), going back to the field. Sprinkling more salt water settled from the wells onto the slats, then spreading the soil, shoveling the soil into the trenches. Waiting for the salt to gradually solidify in the wind and sun fanning the fire. Piling the salt into piles, drying it. Shoveling the salt onto the cart, pushing it gradually into the warehouse... Mr. Tam said that, with his eyes closed, he can still do those tasks skillfully, without a single mistake...

In 1964, when Mr. Tam was a member of Dai Thanh Agricultural Cooperative, he was mobilized and became one of the pioneers to reclaim the Dien Kim salt fields. “The salt industry and salt land have existed here forever, but before that, people worked for the French. At that time, working for the cooperative, we stood up to be the masters” - Mr. Tam recalled with sadness mixed with pride. “Both she (Mrs. Tuong - PV) and I have been attached to salt since that day. My 7 children also grew up in the salt fields, and then followed in their footsteps. Until now, the generations of our grandchildren still continue the salt industry”.

Mr. Tam's 7 children followed their parents to the salt mines since they were young. The job was hard, and they had not seen any improvement for generations. Mr. Tam sighed softly. Perhaps that was why none of the children could support their parents, the old couple still lived under the same roof, working hard every day to support themselves. With 2 slices of salt, every sunny day, the couple earned tens of thousands. But he said, he would never give up the salt business. Having said that, he opened his hand. "Only salt workers can have this hand." A hand with big fingers, calluses deeply etched in the rough palm. A lifetime of holding pages, embroidering, and pushing carts...

Mr. Cao Thanh Long, our “guide” and also the Chairman of Kim Lien Salt Cooperative with 1,200 members who are salt workers in 3 salt villages, introduced to us that Mr. Tam had been awarded the title of “emulation soldier”, was a good worker, a high-yield team leader, and had been able to visit Uncle Ho’s mausoleum in the past. The trip to visit Uncle Ho’s mausoleum was also the farthest trip in the life of that Dien Kim salt farmer. For the first time, he was far from the salt fields, far from the salty taste that he always felt in the countryside wind, far from the sound of the cart on the bumpy, low road… Then, when he returned, he continued his relentless rhythm, loving his job even more, sometimes remembering the trip as a special memory of his life.

And not only Mr. Tam and Mrs. Tuong, many elderly people in families, even though they are no longer of working age, are still working in the fields with their children and grandchildren. Some people have their fields rented by their children and grandchildren, and they work to support themselves. In Dien Kim field, we met Mrs. Dao Thi Thieng (over 70 years old) trying to pack bags of salt to import to traders. She had collected salt from the beginning of the season in the warehouse, and buyers came to the field to transport it. At this time, her daughter, Ms. Le Thi Bien, had just arrived to help her mother weigh the salt. She said that Mrs. Thieng lives alone, her father had just passed away, she had received these salt slices for a long time so that her parents would have money to spend because her children and grandchildren were all poor. Her family has been making salt for 5 generations, from the time of her great-grandparents until now. In addition to working directly in the fields, Ms. Bien also sells salt everywhere to "maybe have some extra profit". Then she mentally calculated, the amount of salt Mrs. Thieng had made since the beginning of the season was about 1.5 tons, selling it to traders would only bring her about one and a half million for several months of hard work...

Born by profession, die by profession

The salt fields are more crowded with people in the midday sun. Mr. Cao Thanh Long said that in the recent heat wave, many people, especially the elderly, fainted from “sunstroke”. The traditional way to “fight the heat” for generations is to add a long dress, a face scarf, and a damp face scarf under the brim of a hat. In addition to work tools, there are water bottles with strings hanging in the tent, and betel bags for the elderly. To be a little more “luxurious”, we buy effervescent vitamin C tablets to put in the water bottles. In the rare moments of rest of Mr. and Mrs. Tam in the small salt hut in the middle of the field, we heard stories about people who died in this salt field.

That was Mr. Bui Van Dien, a friend of the cooperative, who volunteered to reclaim land with Mr. Tam years ago, while working in the field, he was hit by an American bomb. He was left in this field, still holding a shovel in his hand. Or Mr. Tuyen, Mrs. Thang... people who were struck by lightning while running for salt during a thunderstorm. The red blood had soaked into the white salt grains. Not too far away, just a few months ago, Mrs. Thieng's husband, Mr. Le Van Tu, went down to the field until night and had not returned yet. Anxious, the children ran out to the field to look for their father and found him collapsed on the bank of the canal leading water to the salt field. The water in this canal was only up to his knees. People guessed that he had been working late and had come back late, and at that time he was already exhausted, so when wading across the canal he suddenly collapsed in the middle of the stream...

To ensure the quality and output of salt, Ms. Nguyen Thi Thao (Kim Lien Cooperative) regularly measures the salinity accurately. Ms. Thao said: If the salinity of seawater is not accurately checked, it will greatly affect the salt yield.

Mrs. Bui Thi Lan, a person who escaped death by lightning in the field nearly 30 years ago, is now 73 years old and still loyal to the salt industry. She recounted that that year she was 8 months pregnant with her youngest son, working with everyone in the field when there was a storm and a fierce tornado. While frantically trying to find a way to get salt, she heard a loud bang and felt herself being lifted. She was told that at that fateful moment, Mr. Tuyen, who was working right next to her field, was struck by lightning and she was thrown over several slices of salt, unconscious. The villagers tried every way to save her, but it was not until 7 days later that she truly regained consciousness. She only remembers that, in a daze while still in the salt field, she saw Mr. Tuyen waving to her: "Do you see those green and red steps over there? Go up there. Up here is heaven, my child!" She said: “I am pregnant, I am scared to go up high, uncle”. Having said that, but then out of curiosity, she still secretly walked up the rainbow colored stairs, and was able to admire the magnificent heaven.

Then, as if suddenly remembering that dinner was waiting for her in the lower world, she hurried down the ladder. When she stepped down the last steps, the ladder suddenly disappeared. "Just a little more, I won't be able to go home anymore" - Mrs. Lan said, as if that dream had become a very real part of her life, it helped her once see a splendid space, different from the hardships of the sun and wind of everyday life, but it also helped her realize that the salt field was her place, a place she could not bear to leave... Just like the poems of an old man named Chu Minh, who stayed at the age of 76 on this land, his whole life was hard but his poems written on salt fields were still passed down by the people of Dien Kim: "The wheelbarrow, wheelbarrow/ Only one wheel but moving steadily...".

Conclusion

One day, I returned to the Dien Kim salt fields to understand why sweat and tears taste salty. To share the bitter truth: the sunnier it is, the happier I am, but the happier I am, the more tears I shed. Because the price of salt drops every day. In previous seasons, the price of salt was one and a half times higher than now, but this year the harvest was good but the price has dropped miserably, 1 ton of salt is only 1,000,000 to 1,100,000 VND. I met the cooperative director Cao Thanh Long, who was also struggling to get water into the fields while the drought caused the water level of rivers and lakes to drop, and then to find a market for salt farmers (in all the salt communes of Dien Chau, there is currently only one trader willing to buy salt for the people at the price they set themselves)...

And forever haunting are the backs of people bent into question marks. The question marks continue, as this generation has passed on the salt profession to the next generation on this field.

...In the hustle and bustle of life, among the many sounds that resonate in your heart, there will surely be the sound of a morning when you are still half awake and half asleep, the call: "Who wants salt..." full of hardship lands next to your bed. And when you close your eyes, you still imagine the salt-selling woman, rushing with her baskets tied to her rickety bicycle, her faded shirt flapping in the wind, and her call going everywhere. Behind that woman's figure, are the figures of many salt workers bending down on the sunny and windy fields to create the pure white color...

Vinh - Tuan