Listening to the folk songs of the weaving guild on a May night.
(Baonghean)We visited the home of Mrs. Nguyen Thi Son (92 years old), a folk singer from the Xuan Hoa Village Club (Nam Dan District). From outside the gate, we could hear: "Oh... don't ask me, I'll ask my dear friend/ How many times did Uncle Ho return to Kim Lien?"; "Oh... Uncle Ho returned in 1957 and 1961/ Fifty years have passed since he left his homeland." The five elderly women gathered together, engaging in a warm and intimate exchange. The youngest was over 65. Mrs. Son happily said, "For the past few nights, my sisters and I have been singing until 1 or 2 in the morning. This is a gift we offer to Uncle Ho on his birthday."
Of the five folk singers—Mr. Son, Mr. Lien, Mr. Mao, Mr. Tinh, and Mr. Duong—Mr. Son is the "veteran" of folk singing in Xuan Hoa. He mainly spoke to me about folk songs, which were truly moving. I didn't leave his house until 8 p.m.
Mr. Son (in black shirt), Mr. Mao, Mr. Lien, and many children from the village came to listen to the folk songs of the weaving guild.
Today, Mr. Son is 92 years old, but he has a gifted memory. He recalls memories of village festivals, songs sung by the banks of the Dao River, by the lotus pond, or in the courtyard under the bright full moon. "Oh, you stand on this side of the river, gazing across to the other side, you hear news of my love for someone else / Oh, I stand on this side of the river, gazing across to the other side, I will never abandon you / Don't grieve in your heart, for I will wither away / Oh, you come, please come into the house / Why stand outside in the cold dew? / I want to come in / But I fear my parents' hearts might be filled with sorrow..." The melodies are so profound, the listener can fully appreciate the beauty and artistry of the old men's singing. "If I don't sing the folk songs of the weaving village for a day, I miss it terribly. It's become a habit, like eating and drinking every day, indispensable..." - Mr. Son told me.
Born in Xuan Hoa, at the age of 10, Mrs. Son was captivated by folk singing. She begged her mother, and the pretty young girl followed the villagers to Lang Sen every night to listen to the folk songs of the weaving guild. Many nights she returned home late at night. In a short time, she had mastered many of the secrets of folk singing. The advice of the elders made her happy, but she was not yet at peace because she hadn't had the opportunity to attend a proper class. One time, while accompanying her mother to Sa Nam market, she heard the elders singing folk songs of the weaving guild on President Ho Chi Minh's birthday. That time, Mrs. Son packed her bags and went to learn, and the folk songs have stayed with her ever since. After retiring, she participated in performances in the province and district. Several localities invited her to teach folk singing of the weaving guild to young people...
Since the addition of five more artisans—Mrs. Lien, Mr. Mao, Mr. Son, Mr. Duong, and Mr. Tinh—Mr. Son seems to have been infused with new energy. They organize a singing session once a week, on Saturday evenings. Mr. Son's club is both a passion and a way to pass on his skills to the next generation.
The folk songs of the weaving guild have brought many lovers together, leading to marriage. Each time she sings, Mrs. Son recalls her youthful love story with her husband by the romantic Dao River or by the hibiscus hedge near her house. From these folk songs, she and her husband became husband and wife, having three daughters who also share a passion for weaving guild songs, and a son who was a war hero with a voice that touches people's hearts. Mrs. Son paused, her eyes gazing at the lotus ponds in front of her house as she hummed: "Oh... Where are you from? How many cousins do you have? Your parents' ages, occupations, and professions... I hope you'll tell me clearly so we can talk. Oh, my hometown is in Hamlet 8, near the pond, near the river for bathing, near the bridge for boys. My hometown has lots of rice and sweet potatoes, near the river for bathing, and easy-to-find clams and mussels..."
"Even when we grow old, the folk songs of the weaving guild will live on. There will be a new generation to replace us, preserving our roots, so that every May, the folk songs of the weaving guild will be sung again, celebrating the birthday of the Great Leader!" That's what Mr. Son said as he saw me off.
Text and photos: Thu Huong