Village Church

In the past, in the old days of the last century, people in the countryside were very familiar with the term "village teacher." This term usually referred to people who worked as teachers in their own hometowns or villages. "Village teacher" referred to teachers from the primary school in the village to the high school in the district.

A classroom from the past (Illustrative image). Photo: Hoikhuyenhochanoi.edu.vn

From those who graduated with a 7+2 grade to those who graduated with a 10+2 grade and went on to teach, including those who graduated from teacher training universities, colleges, or secondary schools and joined the teaching staff in primary, secondary, and high schools, they are all collectively called "village teachers." Clearly, they are teachers in the village schools of the district; the term might not be entirely appropriate, but it's clear that these teachers live in the same village, neighboring villages, and even in the surrounding communes within the district. Those who studied at universities in Hanoi were assigned to teach in their hometowns and district schools.

The path teachers and students take to school each morning stretches across villages, through fields, and along inter-village and inter-hamlet roads. Many teachers from other provinces assigned to these schools often stay in the school's dormitory, and sometimes, in conversation, they say they miss the city or town, "I've joined the ranks of 'village teachers'." This is understandable, but some people don't like it, as it seems like they're criticizing "country bumpkins." That's because, in the past, cities and towns had electricity and running water, very different from the countryside, where water was scarce, houses were communal, and those born and raised in cities naturally missed their homes. Many consider their years at village schools as a "stepping stone" to transfer back to the city, to more socially distanced areas, or at least to suburban areas to shorten their journey home, escaping the cramped living conditions of communal housing. For female teachers, the desire to be transferred is even greater because they are preoccupied with building families and raising children, and the prospect of living several kilometers away from home, with the arduous task of cycling back to the city or town, is very tiring. In matters of love, distance is paramount, and some urban romances have failed because of the distance between the two individuals. And from these simple village schools, amidst fields, along market roads, or even in old cemeteries, some have married locals and become "village teachers" in their husband's or wife's hometown.

Many will remember that in those years, the road to the school's dormitory was frequented by soldiers who were allowed to return home, but every evening they would meticulously adjust their uniforms and strut into the school. Some of them rode their "Sim Son" motorbikes to and from the dormitory, and those who had left for work outside the city or in distant provinces would also occasionally visit the school's dormitory to "check things out."

In the old days, if the villagers had connections, the officials would be worth a lot. What could be better than a village teacher marrying a soldier? Everyone supported her, and she "won," and the wedding was quickly organized. After the wedding, the teacher moved to her husband's home, returned the communal apartment to the school, and the city girl began to truly adapt to rural life. She taught in the mornings and spent the afternoons tending to vegetables and other crops, working in the fields during the harvest season, and only at night would she diligently prepare her lesson plans. Her husband was away for long periods, and sometimes his letters were filled with tears.

But it didn't matter; back then, who would have thought things would be so difficult and arduous? As long as there was faith and love, they could persevere. The letters came and went; her family never got to read them, but the whole village knew that even though she only learned farming after getting married, she was capable and reliable. Usually, soldiers' wives suffer first, then find happiness later.

And when that young teacher from years ago became a teacher herself, perhaps he would only then return closer to home. The children – the result of those permitted visits – didn't grow up to be mature adults, thinking about their teacher's family life, settling down, and how much wealth she had to save before retiring. When someone retires, their children and grandchildren follow tradition, and everyone in the village is considered important.

That journey can be recounted in just ten lines, but it spans several decades, filled with both joy and sorrow, and even bitterness. Yet, it's said to have been "peaceful and comfortable."

That's the story of the teacher who became a daughter-in-law in the village, while the story of the "village teacher" from the village seems to have gone more smoothly.

After two, three, or four years of studying at teacher training colleges, some girls, however, have moved far away, pursuing a career in teaching or not, and may end up "marrying into a foreign land" and settling in their husband's or wife's hometown. The majority, however, still find a way to return to their district or commune to teach; nothing beats teaching in a village school while enjoying home-cooked meals.

After struggling through the probationary period with meager wages, these young women sometimes wanted to quit the profession, but who would let them? Others had the opportunity to work in the fields or go to the market, yet they were abandoning their teaching jobs. And of course, with teaching jobs in their own village or neighboring villages, young, unmarried female teachers were much more sought after than... fresh shrimp. Many families would use matchmakers to make their move and quickly "pursue" them. To marry a village teacher, one usually had to come from a respectable, well-educated, wealthy family, be well-off, educated, have a job, and be handsome... On moonlit nights, the alleys around the village teachers' houses would be filled with barking dogs, and groups of young men from the village and beyond would swarm around them.

Even though the girls are still hesitant, sometimes simply wanting to have more fun, waiting for a better income from a permanent job, or not wanting to be tied down by marriage, children, or becoming a daughter-in-law, they don't want to choose anyone yet. However, it's difficult because the villagers are very strong matchmakers; "when it comes to marriage, they marry quickly."

And those village teachers, carrying flowers and lesson plans, went to their husbands' homes at a relatively young age.

Before becoming village teachers, sometimes the daughters of teachers or those from families who had left their hometowns were skilled in farming and other side jobs. Usually, after teaching, they would return to their husbands' homes, doing housework, embroidery, baking, and making rượu (rice wine) like everyone else. Many even brought their family's side jobs with them to their husbands' homes. Looking at them carrying their schoolbags, neatly dressed and elegant, one could see that when they returned home, they were not much different from the villagers, the real farmers.

"Village teachers have a salary," everyone knows that, far better than farmers who rely on rice and potatoes, but not everyone realizes they have to work twice as hard. That means teaching while also engaging in productive labor, planting, harvesting, and raising livestock like everyone else.

"Village teachers" face hardships and sometimes suffer disadvantages. That is, while it's acceptable for people to speak harshly, if a teacher speaks harshly or talks back, they are immediately judged. Many people, misunderstanding the situation, mistakenly conclude that the teacher is incompetent. Many village teachers feel wronged and cry to their husbands or sisters. More than anyone else, being from the same village, these teachers understand this kind of bullying and have undoubtedly experienced it themselves.

November 20th is Teachers' Day, and students from the 70s generation and earlier surely remember the "famous gifts" they once gave their teachers. The whole class would gather at the teacher's house, filling it up, and eat an entire basket of apples before going home. Sometimes the bouquet was "stolen from the old folks' nursery," or some students, not knowing how to buy them, would give their teacher lilies on this day. The teacher wouldn't get angry, but would say:

- Let her place the flowers and incense on the ancestral altar.

What material gift is worth more than the solitude of the children, their parents, and the villagers? The bond between teacher and student is nurtured and strengthened over the years, so that year after year they recount stories from the previous year, and the year before that. To tell their teachers the story of their lives. I remember: The waitress's hand aching from the meal; I remember her singing "The Difficult House" with my mother. I remember the homeroom teacher not teaching a single word, leaving the lesson as it was, and the temperature.

Forty-five children looked at each other, not knowing what to think. Some devices were empty, some children had their heads down. Bao asked, "Was there a teacher there at that time?" "Probably… yes."

But after several years, the students still remember every word their teacher taught them, and always say, "Our teacher." And that's enough; every new spring, every village festival, every November 20th, the students who used to play at the village school return to the village to visit their former village teachers.

These generations of village teachers have reduced poverty and suffering thanks to the immense efforts of their teachers and fellow students, leaving them both deeply moved, reflecting on what gift could be more precious.

"

In the old days, the more connections the villagers had, the more valuable the military officers became. What could be better than a village teacher marrying a soldier? Everyone cheered her on, and she "won," and the wedding was quickly arranged. The teacher went home.
After the wedding, her husband returned the communal apartment to the school, and the city girl began to truly adapt to life in the countryside. She taught in the mornings and spent the afternoons tending to vegetables and crops, and during the harvest season, she would diligently prepare lesson plans late into the night. Her husband was often away, and her letters sometimes arrived with tears in her eyes.
But it didn't matter; back then, who would have thought things would be so difficult and arduous? As long as there was faith and love, they could persevere. The letters came and went; her family never got to read them, but the whole village knew that even though she only learned farming after getting married, she was capable and reliable. Usually, soldiers' wives suffer first, then find happiness later.

Source: https://daidoanket.vn/giao-lang-10294434.html