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(Baonghean) - During the hottest days of the Lao wind, I blurted out: I suddenly want to go back to Vinh to live! My sister laughed: You must be crazy! Vinh is so hot, unbearably hot. Only my sister sat there laughing quietly, the laugh of someone who has lived under the sun of Vinh for many years and realized that: the beautiful, pretty and profound part of Vinh is only for those who truly understand and love it!

I have left Vinh many times! Each time there were moments of lingering tears.

Those were the days when I left Vinh to return to my hometown after the province split in 1991. That year, I was 10 years old, and my family moved to Ha Tinh to live. My mother said: this is the last big change and at that time, I understood, we would no longer have Vinh as a place to take refuge.

Ben Thuy Bridge crosses Lam River connecting Vinh City on the North bank and Ha Tinh Province on the South bank. Photo: Sach Nguyen

Only my sister stayed in Vinh with my father.

I still remember the image of my sister standing under the jackfruit tree, silently watching. She did not cry. She still held the buffalo made of jackfruit leaves in her hand. She probably intended it for me, but for some reason she held it so tightly. My eyes blurred. The banks of bushes gradually disappeared under the murky dust.

I have lived in Ha Tinh since then. He planted a spacious garden with many flowers and fruit trees. The small town within reach had only a few streets and a few neighborhoods. My house was in the city. The street was considered the most luxurious and bustling street in the town, but I still felt sad, felt lacking, felt strange. Even the Lao wind here naturally became less scorching.

Daily life. Photo: Nguyen Book

Vinh City from above. Photo: Nguyen Sach

Many nights I thought of my sister and cried. I remembered the times I ran away from home and followed her to the Hung Hoa dike to pick up the grass. My sister was very clever, she could see the clumps of grass mixed in with the dense grass. After I left, she went out alone to pick the grass, dried it in the sun, and sent it back for me to use as a pillow. I received the grass, buried my face in it, and felt a whole world of sweet, fragrant longing that seemed to have been hidden behind the hustle and bustle suddenly revived, but it ached... I remembered the old garden.

I remember the long iron rod he set up in the corner of the garden to thread jackfruit leaves. He said he had no strength to sweep the whole garden full of fallen leaves, so he showed us how to pick them up with that iron rod. Every afternoon, the children bustled around the garden, their bare feet stepping on the white sandy soil, using the iron rod to poke the fallen jackfruit leaves until the whole rod was covered with yellow leaves, then they gathered them in a corner of the garden and burned them. My garden was very large. It contained all the dreams and laughter of my sisters and I as children.

I have kept my memories of Vinh deep inside me through the peaceful years of my childhood. Ha Tinh has given me a new sky that is no less dreamy. I forgot Vinh. I forgot like I forgot someone who just passed by and left a confused smile on the side of the road. Until later, even though I returned to Vinh five or seven times, I never had the thought that I wanted to live in Vinh again.

Vinh has changed every day.

The road I used to take was full of dirt around the old Quyet market, with its thatched roofs and stalls of banh ke and banh mat, which no longer existed. The houses were close together. There was no longer even a football field where every night the children crowded together to wait in front of the screen of the mobile cinema team, eagerly and expectantly. Instead, there were flashing LED signs advertising in many colors. The magnificent high-rise apartments, the luxurious and lavish hobbies... Suddenly I felt hot. Extremely hot. Thanh Vinh was burning from the strange Lao wind, not at all like the Lao wind of the old days.

I hurried away leaving only my sister behind.

For many years, my sister has stayed here. She grew up with Vinh. Changed with Vinh. Struggling with Vinh to make a living without a single complaint. Many times I thought that while I was pampered and taken care of, she had to suffer too much having to live far away from her family since childhood, but she absolutely did not think about it. Sometimes I tried to ask her if she ever wanted to go back to Ha Tinh with her parents, she just smiled: the road back now is very easy, she can always go home, but she is used to life here, can't leave.

Quang Trung Street with rows of old apartment buildings. Photo: Sach Nguyen

Only I was confused when I returned. After experiencing so much uncertainty and disappointment in a place I thought I was loved and suddenly felt strange, I suddenly realized that: deep in a modern, bustling Vinh city, there are still interesting things that the place I left Vinh to come to it did not have. Those are the night bars next to the ancient citadel swaying with oil lamps. The quiet street corners with the strong scent of magnolia, a small, gentle corner with a cup of coffee and my favorite music. Or the quiet dark nights with airy, modern street corners where we can be ourselves without fear of feeling lonely and empty... Vinh always has two shades: sometimes modern, sometimes classic. Vinh is bustling but also quiet to the point of heartbreaking. Is that why it makes my sister unable to leave it?

Returning to Vinh during the hottest days of the Lao wind, I exclaimed: I suddenly want to return to Vinh to live! My sister laughed: "You must be crazy! Vinh is so hot, so hot that I can't stand it." Only my sister sat there and laughed quietly, the laugh of someone who has lived under the sun of Vinh for many years and realized that: The beautiful, fresh and profound part of Vinh is only for those who truly understand and love it!

Lam Lam