Back to the sea

Cua Lo - has become a famous place on the tourist map, but for Nghe people, it is very simple, everyone calls it the hometown sea. The sea of ​​your hometown. The sea of ​​my hometown! The sea is heaving, eagerly entering the joyful season, the waves are extremely blue and the sand is extremely smooth as if to invite...

The ups and downs of experience

And how many times, setting foot on the sea of ​​my hometown, I still feel the same fresh surprise. How many high-rise buildings, hotels... springing up densely on the other side of the waves, even though it is only a strip of sand away, the sea is still intact and pristine as before. As fast as a blink of an eye. It is hard to imagine this place, when it was just desolate and silvery sand, when purple morning glory vines and yellow sea daisies still spread down to the foot of the waves. Perhaps at that time, like many other coastal areas in our country, Cua Lo was just a small dot on the S-shaped sand strip leaning towards the East Sea with a poor fishing village, the bare backs of men tanned by the wind and sun, the night lights of many women waiting for their husbands to return after a trip to sea so that the next morning they could bustle about the market. The name is not beautiful, not for the dreamy, just as simple as the rows of basket boats facing down on the wet sand. Yet it arouses curiosity in many people when they come to this place.

Why is it called Cua Lo? How many times have I received that question from friends far away, and how many times have we - Nghe people - asked ourselves that question and each other. There have been many explanations given with scientific evidence of geography, language... such as meaning a drafty door, then a mispronunciation, or originating from the original noun "kuala"... But there is one explanation that I want to believe, the most popular explanation for the name of Cua Lo: the ancient coastal residents had a profession of making salt, the red light shining from the high salt furnaces in the dark night became a lighthouse for ships entering and leaving the Cam River, and from the name "salt furnace door" became "Cua Lo".

From a poor coastal area with only waves, salt kilns, fishing grounds, fish markets, simple fish sauce villages, Cua Lo suddenly became bustling in the 90s of the last century, when this place suddenly became a landing place for "secondhand" goods. People everywhere knew Cua Lo not as a tourist beach but as a landing place for "domestic electronics". Cua Lo electronics followed the trips to the North and South to spread throughout the country. Many Cua Lo residents switched to trading in secondhand goods. They hunted for goods in Japan and then gathered them by ship to Cua Lo. Many people became rich, and many people were imprisoned from smuggling cases.

Just about twenty years ago, from Vinh to Cua Lo, there was only one road running from Hung Loc through Mai Trang market, through Nghi Tan ward. There was no Sao Nam or Binh Minh road..., but only a small winding road along the coast, in the middle of the wind-swept pine forest. Shops were sparse, only a few deserted hotels... People went to the beach, not yet in the mood to travel and sightsee, but only hesitantly played in the water.

Then, before we could stop regretting the pine forests running along the endless sandbanks that had been cut down, we were happy because of the newly widened roads to find a way out to the sea, reaching out through tourism. The square, golf course, lawn, rows of trees, flower paths… were all ablaze with new colors. And thousands, tens of thousands of footsteps jostling back and forth on fireworks nights, on sunny days… turned Cua Lo into a name that contained so much joy and reunion. Come back, Cua Lo!

And, even if we don't join the flood of people pouring into Cua Lo every holiday, surely in my heart, your heart, whether sad or happy, we still want to return to the sea.

Return to the sea

Looking for a dawn, when the town is still dreaming in the mist. Longing to wait to see the sun rise from the sea. Bare feet, fine sand, the wind still carrying a bit of cold, and the waves are very gentle. And suddenly on the sand, you will encounter fishermen with faces that seem to be from a thousand years ago, dark, strong, and honest. They stand in a row, tied together by a rope to pull the net. You think you woke up early? This is their third haul. The residents of Cua Lo have been diligently following the same rhythm of life for generations, waking up at midnight to go fishing together.

Also on the fine sand, men are packing up their gear after a night of squid fishing offshore on a basket boat. The small boat, spinning, rocking up and down with the waves, goes out to sea when night falls, to return early in the morning with the joy of the clanging of the fishing rods and the rhythm of the oars tapping on the side.

I called them dawns behind the nets. Behind the pulsating, sea-soaked nets were fish and squid flashing with phosphorescent light.

Looking for peaceful afternoons, when the summer has just begun, the sun has just risen, the beach is still sparsely populated, sitting quietly with your soul mate on a deck chair in countless shops by the sea, looking out to the open sea. Or walking along the rows of casuarina trees towards Cua Hoi, spreading a carpet on the sand, letting your feet touch the clusters of sea daisies that are burning like small fires. Strangely, this flower, which is said to have been brought back from faraway France by King Bao Dai himself, to plant on these wild sand dunes, has such a strong vitality. Surely it wants to convey a message to our hearts?

Looking for nights, walking down to the water's edge. Watching the waves chasing each other, bursting into joy of reunion. White cheers crashing into the shore. Up there, in the vast, deep blue, there is a sliver of moon standing seemingly alone, But that's not it, the moon is pouring its love on the chest of the night sea. Suddenly realizing that the sea is noisy but also infinitely gentle. And let go of all worries and troubles, the sea is absorbing everything into the deep ocean. Let's go on a squid fishing trip, go out into the vastness with that small rotating boat, the light of that kerosene lamp and the excitement of the great movements of reincarnation in the heart of the sea...

And sometimes, returning to the sea, just to absentmindedly search for the path of a wave. It seems more independent and proud than we think, more than a blur that dissolves into the vastness. Even though afterwards it gently licks the sand to renew itself in a metamorphosis, to live again in the silence of another wave.

Or go find the softness and gentleness of the sand. Walk barefoot beside the waves, watch the tiny shimmering rays from the sand, feel the warmth of the sun under the soles of your feet. That is the most wonderful way to see yourself as a part of the vast nature, of the endless earth and sky. Like many others, I go looking for wild horses to enjoy and regret a life of sand-carrying. How much dedication and carelessness is there in this world? How much desire and fulfillment, how much effort and cruel response, how much meaninglessness like the Wild Horse in the fairy tale to find the stolen pearl?

Sometimes we look for the color of the sea. People say the sea is blue, but in reality, the sea has all colors. The murky anger, the white joy, the red fatigue, the purple sadness, the blue hope, the waiting and longing are all the colors of the sunset…

Go to meet each other, to meet joy, to smile. Mothers gently lead their little children along the contours of the waves, children giggle, fathers take their children to swim, lovers walk side by side, old couples look out to sea and smile at memories. Fishermen return from a catch at sea.

How many people have stood before the vastness, the restlessness, the depth of the sea with those feelings? Like me, now standing before the sea of ​​my homeland? To feel less lost in life, which is often uncertain. To find a source of comfort when tired. To calm myself after a storm of the heart. To look deeply into the sadness within me, to understand it, with a more tolerant and open heart to life. My pearl, which can lie deep in the sea, under a layer of moss as beautiful as an aquarium, can also be tightly held by a taciturn oyster tossing itself in the hidden waves under the sand, or can also be floating on the silver waves far out at sea...

My pearl, could also be right in my soul, when in the afternoon of Cua Lo, I stood barefoot alone on the warm sand looking out to sea. At that moment, I believed that I had found myself.