The Story of the City and the Forest (Part II)

>>City and Forest Narrative (Part I)

(Baonghean)Tham Hin is like a beautiful maiden forgotten deep in the forest. It's a small waterfall cascading right at the edge of National Highway 7b. Colonel Vi Hieu – Commander of Detachment 4 – said: Tham Hin is only alluring during the rainy season…

I once froze to death at the Muong Long Sky Gate near Tet in 2001, during a bitterly cold year. I nearly died from brake failure on my motorbike on the Lightning Strike slope leading to the remote Nam Khien village deep in the Nam Can forest. I witnessed the anomalies of nature everywhere in the southwestern and northwestern parts of my province, but nowhere moved me as much as when I met Tham Hin. This beautiful young woman, forgotten in the depths of the forest, used the entire rainy season to give her all, then vanished into nothingness, yet possessed the faith to reappear beautifully in the following rainy season. How strange!

Visiting Hin – “The Sleeping Maiden”.

Among the group of coffee lovers in Quynh, T is the youngest. T is a Thai girl born in the mountains, and she has already written and had a book published. It's been a while since I've seen T write, or maybe she's been away from the mountains for too long and can't write anymore (?). The other day, after several visits back to her mountain hometown, T suddenly said, "I'm about to publish another book." Now I think, maybe T is like Tham Hin?

I was also born in the mountains. The mountains of my childhood were still densely covered with forests. Some afternoons in the city, I would feel a pang of nostalgia for the "smell of the mountains after the rain." After the summer afternoon showers, the sun would shine brightly through the trees, the sky would be a vast, deep blue, and in the cool, crisp air, a slightly pungent, heavy "smell of the mountains after the rain" would gradually emerge.

Oh, the smell of the mountains after the rain! It's the smell of mud, straw, dry bamboo leaves, and fresh buffalo dung, still warm from the hot Lao wind and scorching sun, now relieved by the rain; they mingle together, giving off a pungent odor amidst the chaotic hooves of buffaloes scrambling up the newly sprouted grass at the top of the mountain slope.

Now, the scent of the mountains after the rain is gone. But many nights in the city, I still dream of that familiar mountain scent. I yearn to write about the cherished things of that hillside homeland. If I were to publish another book, I'd probably only write about the mountains… If you are far from the mountains, if you don't remember them, it's like forgetting your ancestors. My father once said that. My father also told me that my grandfather once said the same thing to him.

A young Hmong couple descends the mountain and heads to the market on their motorbike.

...And then it was time to say goodbye to Tham Hin. The feeling of loss: Will the green forest remain green forever to hold Tham Hin, for Tham Hin is so fragile?

The road to Phuxailaileng is incredibly steep… Uphill and uphill, until one loses all patience and becomes afraid of a challenge that is not deadly but unusual.

The young Hmong couple descending the mountain to the market no longer travel by umbrella or horseback, but instead zoom along on motorbikes. This brings back memories of the immigration office in Vinh City, where I occasionally encountered groups of young people in Hmong traditional clothing gathered together for passport photos. I regretted not asking if they were going to Laos, or if Hmong people now go to South Korea or Taiwan for work.

Except for Sapa in Lao Cai, where the Hmong now operate tourism just as skillfully as people from the lowlands, I'm sure nowhere else do the Hmong people descend from the mountains to do business as well as in Na Ngoi - Ky Son. The Hmong villages are scattered along Highway 7b, quickly adopting advanced techniques in planting crops and raising new livestock. The border region is so peaceful: an old Hmong man relaxes on his porch reading the newspaper; an old Hmong woman basks in the sun on the steps of her house, surrounded by a square yard where chestnuts are spread out to dry, glistening... The idea of ​​illegal border crossings is a distant memory.

The 4th National Defense Brigade deserves credit for this…

Young intellectuals volunteer to create seedlings for a lily cultivation model at the 4th National Defense Brigade.
Na Ngoi Ky Son.

First-time visitors are surprised to find such a beautiful and picturesque defense facility at the foot of Phuxailaileng. Unit 4 is a source of pride for this sacred border region of the Fatherland in its economic and defense development. Hang and Thao are a source of pride for us on this trip.

Hang is nearsighted (due to studying a lot) and very ambitious. Thao has fair skin and a delicate, beautiful smile. They are two young girls in the volunteer team who came to this remote area to contribute their youthful knowledge to the development of new business models alongside Team 4. Hang once won a high prize in a national-level experimental science competition, I think! Hang and Thao are from the lowlands, having lived and studied in the city, but they didn't understand much about the city before, and now they have come to understand the forest well; both of them readily joined us in conquering Phuxailaileng. It was a risky endeavor, because indeed, after the trip to milestone L1 right at the foot of the "roof" of North Central Vietnam, Hang and Thao had just gone through a memorable test of their physical endurance.

Motion sickness, altitude sickness, or simply the awe-inspiring beauty of nature? Colonel Vi Hieu and the officers of the 4th Regiment Command had to arrange the best vehicle to take us up the "unimaginable mountain passes" to Phuxailaileng. The sun danced across the valleys where rooftops gradually disappeared below, streamed over the terraced rice fields during harvest season, and playfully mingled with the vibrant yellow wildflowers that adorned the border mountains…

A memento of our stop at the mountain pass, before the entrance to the ancient forest.

Stopping the car at the top of the pass, at an altitude of about 1,800m above sea level, before the edge of the ancient forest, I imagined bidding farewell to the earthly world before ascending to the heavens. Soon, the sun, wind, mist, clouds, and the dark foliage would create a surreal symphony of emotions. Wonderful, wonderful! – “Xiều” called Long and Nghệ during the last few tense Viettel calls. “Xiều” said, “Long yelled at me not to call anymore, he’d tell me more and make me crave it.” Oh, I thought “Xiều” didn’t know how to tell stories!

As for me, I will now tell another story about the forest…

(to be continued)

Dinh Sam