Wallet, in my heart

(Baonghean) - You may be like me or many other Nghe people who still want Nghe folk songs to appear on large-scale, large stages. But in fact, like a sweet stream of milk that seeps into and nourishes every vein of the soul, those who were once children growing up and loving Nghe An, then Vi and Giem, no matter where they are sung, are always filled with love.

1. A fellow countryman showed off a clip of his friend singing Vi, Giam at a drinking table and shared that it was an emotional space with Vi, Giam singing. Vi, Giam, to him, is beautiful without makeup, without flashy lights. A bit cramped, a small space, a few loved ones… All of these things resonate to create a truly beautiful space when singing Het ang roi thuong.

Vi and Giam singing at West Lake (Hanoi). Photo: PV

Even though I don’t agree with the “beautiful atmosphere” at the drinking table that you mentioned, I still listened to that clip over and over again. A live voice, a middle-aged man tapping his hands on the table, his face showing signs of hardship, singing a warm, deep, emotional song. A few “singers” sang backing vocals, singing along… very spontaneously. Notably, the singer in that clip was an artist from the Folk Song Drama Troupe belonging to the Center for Preservation and Promotion of Nghe An’s Vi and Giam Folk Song Heritage.

Last year, his legs were gangrenous, his friends who are students of Phan Boi Chau High School for the Gifted tried their best to “save” his legs. And now, he can have dinner with friends, and can even sing. What is more wonderful is that friends can share the hardships together, after the pain of a serious illness, they can express their love in each song. It is so simple, but I believe that it is a beautiful space for Vi and Giam - in you, in me...

2. Another friend agrees about the limited space for Vi and Giam. It was when he took a long Uber ride, an hour long, and the driver sang Vi and Giam throughout the long journey. The driver sang beautifully and you will never forget that special performance. The driver was a student at Nghe An College of Arts, after graduating he did not pursue the profession - or could not survive with the profession, but went to the South and made a living by driving Uber. You said, listening to the driver's voice was enough to know his love for Vi and Giam and his voice was "not bad".

3. There is another space for the wallet, when I remember the story my friend told about the early winter nights. The women often lit a fire in the middle of the yard, the fire burned brightly, crackling, the smell of the remaining essential oil and resin rose up with the thin smoke. The women, though their youthful days were far away, their cheeks were still rosy from the heat of the winter fire, their mouths still sang "Oh oh... when the flowers come, they must bloom, when the boat is full, the boat must cross the river, when fate comes, I must get married"... how sweet and charming. The children sat and listened, enthralled, while waiting for the hastily roasted, fragrant sweet potatoes to be taken out of the firewood. My friend was the boy who sat waiting for the sweet potatoes that day, now over 30 years old, remembering that he still longed to hear the amateur voices singing by the red fire, with just a few roasted sweet potatoes making a great feast.

4. I am always impressed by the moonlit nights when I was a child, sitting in a yard surrounded by banana leaves like natural fans, and my grandmother sang in a hoarse voice, sometimes out of tune, following the distant village loudspeaker: “Where the sun is not dry, where the rain is not wet…”. My grandmother at that time, her eyes and lips smiled as if thinking about the old days of love songs. Or the early mornings of the year, my uncle carried me to the village yard, next to the old Yen Son theater (Do Luong), watching young men and women swing and sing Vi to welcome spring. My love for Vi and Giem was full from that childhood.

5. My narrow space is also the train from Saigon to Vinh City on the days before Tet. When the train is about to enter Vinh station, passing Cua Nam lake, the "train house" plays the familiar Vi and Giam melodies. And at that moment, the student girl counts down each day, each hour to touch the last minute of the journey, steps to Vinh station, sees the thick face with wrinkles of hard work pushing together in the bright smile of her father when he goes to the station to pick up his daughter... The excitement of the joy of returning home on Tet, until now sometimes I still dream about it.

The space of Vi and Giam in me is also the New Year's Eve nights when I went with my father to Duc Ong Temple to ask for luck, listening to the houses along the road playing a folk song; the early mornings of the year when I woke up in a warm blanket with my mother, listening to the loudspeakers playing Vi and Giam songs. The leisurely spring days, when the trees sprouted new buds, the sky was less gloomy, and Vi and Giam sang words of love, even if it was only through old tapes and discs from the loudspeakers, were enough to remember, enough to love very much!

Vo Thu Huong