'Salt Bridge' is just a name!

However, having lived near the market for four years, and having met and learned a lot from others, I realized that "Salt Bridge," or Kieu Bridge, or Bong Bridge... are all quite insignificant because they are just names.

The Cau Muoi market area today

Obsessed with a name

In 1990, I moved into the Tran Hung Dao dormitory (District 1, Ho Chi Minh City), very close to Cau Muoi Market, carrying with me a haunting feeling, because just hearing the name was enough to conjure up images of something violent. Before that, my parents repeatedly warned me: "Stay in your room after school, don't go outside!"

The official name of this market is Cau Ong Lanh Market, and it was built properly on Nguyen Thai Hoc Street. It was also one of the main wholesale markets at that time.

Many small-scale vendors can't afford to rent stalls in the market, so they sit right on the street. Whenever the authorities appear, they quickly grab their goods and run. But for us students, buying food at this makeshift market is the cheapest. I often work part-time, so I only go to the market late in the afternoon.

That day, I was surprised to find that the usual vendors were nowhere to be seen. Upon inquiring, I learned that the local authorities had cleared the streets in preparation for a major celebration. The area, usually bustling with activity, was now deserted.

I was feeling dejected and about to leave when I suddenly heard a voice calling, "Hey kid! What do you want to buy?" Not just me, but everyone was startled, because the voice belonged to a middle-aged man with a menacing face, shirtless, with a fierce tiger head tattooed on his chest, and a huge silver chain with a wild boar tusk dangling from it. A country bumpkin like me, who's barely able to tie a chicken, was terrified at first sight. I thought to myself: I'll just eat instant noodles; even if he offered it to me, I wouldn't dare accept it.

"Start your life over"

Seeing me continue walking, he called out to me several more times, and his persistence gave me the courage to turn back.

I cautiously approached, feeling anxious, certain I would be ripped off today. Even with two livers, I wouldn't dare haggle with vendors like this.

He seemed to read my mind, so he proactively asked, "Are you a student? Choose whatever you like, it's not expensive! Buy it for tomorrow, the market won't reopen for another two days."

I only chose just enough for dinner. When I asked to pay, he quoted a price I wouldn't have believed if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes: it was only half the price I usually pay every day.

My surprises didn't end there. Seeing me about to pay, he said, "Put the money away. It's a gift for you today." I asked why, and he scolded me, "Take it home! Why ask so many questions?" I mumbled my thanks and left feeling both happy and very strange.

We were complete strangers. Yet, I received a free item on my very first purchase. How could someone with such a fierce appearance be so kind? My curiosity led me to investigate further.

Cau Muoi Market in the 1960s

"Tu Cau Muoi" is the name the locals call him. Partly because he was born and raised in Cau Muoi, but more importantly because he's been in and out of prison many times. The scars running across his body are the marks of numerous machete fights.

His life as a hired assassin came to an end after he mistakenly attacked the wrong person. The victim not only forgave him by dropping the charges, allowing him to receive the lightest possible sentence, but also gave him some capital to start a business, on the condition that he promised to "turn his life around."

That turning point caused Tư Cầu Muối, who once roamed freely and acted with impunity, to almost completely transform himself. He "washed his hands of crime," reformed his ways, and inspired many former gangsters to become law-abiding citizens, drawing inspiration from his own story.

He rented a space to open a food stall outside the market. Now, his business partners and customers only remember him as a righteous man, always ready to share his food and clothing with those less fortunate than himself.

I wasn't the first person he helped. The cyclo driver who parked his cart at the end of the street had been in a traffic accident, and he sold many of his possessions to help pay for his treatment. He also provided monthly allowances for food and education for two poor children nearby. I was reminded of the character Bay Cau Muoi in the film "The Cards Are Stacked Against You ," who also came from the criminal underworld, was influenced by engineer Nguyen Thanh Luan, and joined the revolution.

I will always remember his heartfelt words: "Life is inherently forgiving, so repay it with kindness and compassion towards others." The tattoos on his chest are still there, but the Tư Cầu Muối of the past is dead; only a kind and benevolent "Tư" remains, living wholeheartedly for everyone. You shouldn't always judge a book by its cover. Isn't the durian, a characteristic fruit of the Southeast region, with its rough, thorny shell but incredibly fragrant and sweet flesh inside?

He passed away prematurely from lung cancer, probably due to excessive smoking. On his deathbed, he instructed his wife and children to donate all the funeral donations to the poor, and to place his ashes in a temple, seeking refuge in Buddhism. He departed peacefully, having reformed himself and lived the rest of his life meaningfully.

Remembering Mr. Tư Cầu Muối's kindness and expressing my gratitude to the land and people full of the "spirit of the Eastern region," I always do everything I can to help the community. I registered to donate organs and tissues in 2014, and I regularly donate blood every three months. To date, I have participated in blood donation nearly 40 times. I feel happy after each time I give, and perhaps the esteemed Mr. Tư Cầu Muối felt the same way in the past!

Source link: https://thanhnien.vn/cau-muoi-cung-chi-la-cai-ten-185230809155919414.htm