Nearly a century of keeping the forge fire burning.

Nestled modestly in a small alley in Tam Binh ward, Ho Chi Minh City, under an old corrugated iron roof, Phuong Blacksmith's Workshop has kept the flame of blacksmithing alive for nearly a century, becoming a symbol of a craft that is gradually fading away in the heart of the bustling city.

Preserving the craft passed down from our ancestors.

The road leading to Phuong's blacksmith shop is narrow, barely wide enough for a motorbike to pass through, but it's not difficult to hear the echoing sounds of hammers and anvils in the quiet space. Each hammer blow on the steel is like a beat of time, evoking memories of bygone days.

The smoky smell of steel and the faint scent of burning permeated the stifling air, where a man with dark, strong hands diligently hammered red-hot steel in a vat. That man was Tran Mau Quoc Toan, the fifth generation to continue his family's blacksmithing trade.

Gần một thế kỷ giữ lửa lò rèn - Ảnh 1. — The sign is small but sturdy, built to last.

Phuong's blacksmith shop is only 30 square meters, but within that space, every step of the forging process, every steel bar, every hammer blow is imbued with love and respect for the traditional craft. Toan shared: "This profession was passed down from our ancestors; we do it out of passion and to preserve what we have. We just keep doing it."

The Phuong blacksmith shop has existed for nearly a hundred years, with a name deeply marked by history. The shop is named after its ancestors and has been maintained through five generations. Toan recounts: "The sign for Phuong Blacksmith Shop is over 70 years old. Every year I repaint it and redraw the name, but it remains the same, unchanged."

That old, weathered nameplate has now become a symbol of enduring strength, a testament to the once glorious craft of blacksmithing.

Gần một thế kỷ giữ lửa lò rèn - Ảnh 2. — Mr. Tran Mau Quoc Toan is the fifth generation to continue his family's blacksmithing trade.

Like many other blacksmiths, Phuong Blacksmith specializes in producing traditional forged tools such as milling cutters, machetes, hoes, shovels, crowbars, etc., and accepts custom orders for items like concrete chisels, crowbars, and tools for construction projects. Under the scorching sun of Ho Chi Minh City, the already arduous work becomes even more difficult, but for Mr. Toan, it is a joy and an indispensable passion in his life.

Despite the strenuous manual labor and sweat-inducing hammer blows, Mr. Toan never complained. He confided, "This job is hard, but I do it because I love the profession. We do it out of passion for the craft passed down from our ancestors, and no matter how difficult it gets, we can't give it up."

Meticulous and passionate

However, his biggest worry remains the future of the blacksmithing profession. "My children are no longer following this trade; the work is too hot. Just sitting one meter near the furnace, you can feel the heat reaching 1,000 degrees. Therefore, no one can stand it. As for me, I'm almost 60 years old, and I don't know what will become of this profession," Toan lamented.

Gần một thế kỷ giữ lửa lò rèn - Ảnh 3. — Phuong blacksmith shop specializes in producing traditional forged tools such as knives.

That worry seemed palpable to anyone looking into the pensive eyes of the blacksmith. He worried not only about his own career but also about the future of blacksmithing, a craft that was gradually fading away in developing cities. "One day, all these tools will be useless," Toản said quietly, his voice sad, as if looking back at a distant past.

Nevertheless, Toan's greatest joy each day is seeing his products appreciated by customers. He shared: "The greatest joy is when customers tell me that this knife is so sharp, it's great to use. Just that makes me happy, no matter how tired the work is."

The knives, hoes, shovels, and concrete chisels he makes with his own hands always embody meticulousness and passion.

Gần một thế kỷ giữ lửa lò rèn - Ảnh 4. — The forge continues to burn brightly every day.

However, he couldn't hide his sadness at the thought of the craft's decline. "Many young people come to learn the trade, but they only work for a few days before quitting. The temperature is too hot; they can't stand it, and then this craft will gradually disappear. That's what worries me most," Toan said, his gaze distant as he looked at the fire pit.

Phuong's blacksmith shop still stands strong in the heart of Ho Chi Minh City, quietly keeping the flame of traditional craftsmanship alive. Although they know that one day, when the forge's fires are extinguished, leaving only an old sign outside, the sound of hammers will continue to resonate in the hearts of the people of Ho Chi Minh City. For Mr. Toan, even if the blacksmithing trade disappears one day, the memories of a once-glorious craft will never fade.