Journey of 'connecting letters' in the remote village of Hong Ngai

There, among the clouds and rocks, children's laughter resounds thanks to the love and extraordinary determination of those who sow knowledge.

Flowers in the wilderness

Hong Ngai school is located precariously on a mountainside, more than 25km from the center of Tua Thang commune. The road to the village is winding and steep, slippery when it rains, and dusty when it is sunny. Yet every day, four kindergarten teachers still regularly travel that distance to reach the Mong and Thai children - barefoot, bright-eyed, smiling children learning their first letters.

Ms. Mua Thi Nhi, the only one of the four who has a husband and children, tells the story in a slow, sincere voice: “In Hong Ngai, every day is a journey. The road is very difficult, when it rains, water flows down, slippery. One day the car fell over, and my legs were purple for a week. But I couldn’t bear to stop. Thinking of my students’ eyes, I told myself to try a little harder.”

Nhi is from the old Phinh Sang commune, nearly 100km from Hong Ngai village. Every week, she only comes home once to visit her two-year-old child. Her husband works as a worker in Bac Giang , and they only see each other a few days a year. “Many nights I lie in class, listening to the rain falling on the tin roof, missing my child, missing home, tears just flow. But what can I do, I chose this job, I have to accept being away from my child and raise him with the love of a teacher in the highlands,” she said.

The remaining three teachers: Mua Thi Hoa, Vu Thi Nhung and Sung Thi Du are all young, unmarried teachers. They came to the profession with a simple belief: Teaching to help the children in their village learn. In this remote place, they are teachers, mothers, sisters and friends to their students.

The journey to Hong Ngai of young female teachers. Photo: NVCC

Legs never stop being purple...

Huoi So Kindergarten currently has 12 classes with 233 students, divided into 7 school locations. Of which, Hong Ngai is the most remote and difficult location. Previously, all four teachers taught three classes. Recently, one teacher had to move to the center, the remaining three had to take on additional jobs of cooking, babysitting, and teaching.

“We don’t have hired cooks like in the lowlands. Parents are poor, so the money to support children’s meals is low, so the teachers take turns cooking. They teach in the morning, cook at noon, teach again in the afternoon, then clean, wipe the classroom, wash the blankets. The whole day is like spinning tops,” Ms. Vu Thi Nhung said with a sad smile.

The school has no fixed accommodation. In the dry season, the teachers have to travel back and forth between Huoi Long and Hong Ngai every day, a distance of more than 30km. In the rainy season, the roads are slippery, so the teachers have to sleep in the classroom, on old wooden beds set up in the corner of the classroom. “If it rains heavily, we stay in the classroom, not daring to go home for fear of falling off our bikes in the middle of the forest. Once, Ms. Hoa fell, the bike ran over her leg, and she was bruised for a month,” Ms. Nhi recalls.

“Among teachers living in remote areas like us, our legs never stop being purple from falling off our bikes. We fall so many times, we get used to it. When the old wound has not healed, a new one appears. So our legs never stop being purple!”, Ms. Nhi smiled lightly.

Ms. Mua Thi Hoa is not good at driving, so on many steep slopes she has to push the bike. “Wherever we can go, we ride the bike, otherwise we have to walk. There are steep slopes that are so steep that we are afraid of slipping, so we have to help each other push the bike. We laugh until tears come out of our eyes because we are tired,” she said.

At night, Hong Ngai is heartbreakingly quiet. Phone signals are intermittent, and the internet is almost non-existent. On cloudy days, teachers and students only have the sound of the howling mountain wind. “At night, I lie down listening to the rain hitting the tin roof, it’s freezing cold, thinking about my family makes me feel so sad,” Ms. Hoa said.

Teachers and students at Hong Ngai school experience the space of a 'highland market'. Photo: NVCC

Lean on each other to stay in class

At Hong Ngai, the camaraderie between teachers becomes the greatest spiritual support. “We consider each other as sisters. In the morning we wake up together to cook for the children, in the afternoon we take turns teaching each class, and in the evening we clean, cook, and do laundry together. Sometimes when we are too tired, just hearing each other’s laughter gives us the strength to continue,” Ms. Du confided.

Not only teaching children to read and write, the teachers also teach them how to eat, dress themselves, and greet politely. In this border area, many parents do not speak fluent Mandarin, so the teachers are also the bridge between the school and the community. "Some days we have to go to each house to encourage children to come to class, explaining to parents how important preschool education is. The people are very sympathetic, they have nothing, they only know to bring some vegetables, tubers, and wild fruits to give to the teachers," Ms. Vu Thi Nhung shared.

On weekends, instead of resting, the teachers take advantage of the time to teach extra classes and make learning tools from available materials: corn cobs, seed husks, bamboo sticks, and plastic bottles. “We try to create a colorful classroom for the children, so that every morning when they come to class, they feel happy and want to learn,” Ms. Hoa said, her eyes shining with a small joy.

In the morning, when the roosters crowed, the four girls were ready to leave home, crossing shallow streams and steep cliffs. The children saw their figure from afar and rushed out to greet them. Some had rice on their hands, some had their shirts unbuttoned, but their smiles were radiant. “Seeing the children run to hug their teacher’s legs, all their fatigue disappeared,” Ms. Du said, her eyes sparkling.

Of the four teachers, Ms. Mua Thi Nhi’s story touched many people the most. At the age of 24, she was already the mother of a two-year-old boy, Thao Thanh Dat. Both her husband and she worked far away, so they had to leave their son with his grandparents in the countryside.

On rainy days, the road home is hundreds of kilometers away, she can only hold her longing for her child in her heart. Every year, she and her husband only see each other for a few short days. “We count the days waiting for Tet, waiting for summer to be together. But work does not allow for long breaks. We have to say goodbye as soon as we meet,” she said, her voice choked.

However, every time she mentioned her students, her eyes lit up. “Seeing them sing, dance, and say thank you, I feel all the hard work is worth it.”

A class of students at Hong Ngai school (Huoi So Kindergarten). Photo: NVCC

Continue writing the beautiful story about the teaching profession

In the corner of the small hill, three small classrooms were set up. Outside was the kitchen corner, where every noon, the smoke from rice wafted up. The four teachers took turns cooking meals for 46 students. Wood stove, cast iron pots, a few sets of plastic bowls. Everything was so simple it couldn’t be simpler.

Ms. Vu Thi Nhung said: “We buy food at the market, and every Monday morning we bring it to the village to stock up for the whole week. There are days when it rains and the road is slippery, we have to push our bikes for an hour to get there. But when we see our children eating well and sleeping soundly, we forget all our tiredness.”

On cold days, when the classroom is covered in mist, the teachers light a fire to warm the children. Their tiny hands spread out in front of the fire, glowing red in the warmth. “That was the most touching moment for me,” said Ms. Hoa. “I understand that sometimes just a warm hug and a full pot of rice are enough to keep the children in class.”

Ms. Nguyen Hong Nhung - Vice Principal of Huoi So Kindergarten, shared: “Hong Ngai school is our most difficult school. During the rainy season, teachers and students go to school as if they are on a campaign. Many days the road is landslide, we have to push our bikes a few kilometers to get to class. The teachers there are very young, some have just graduated from school, some have just given birth and are back in the village. I really admire their sense of responsibility and love for their job.”

According to Ms. Nguyen Hong Nhung, despite the difficult conditions, the quality of care and education for children at Hong Ngai is still guaranteed. “The teachers not only teach letters, but also teach children to love and share. Every day when I go to class, seeing the children being fed, learning to sing and dance, I know that those hardships are not meaningless.”

Students at Hong Ngai school were happy to receive Mid-Autumn gifts from the 'Mid-Autumn Festival for Children' program co-organized by Education and Times Newspaper and Hoa Hoang Charity group. Photo: NVCC

Wish in the wilderness

Talking about her wishes, Ms. Nhi just smiled gently: “We don’t need anything big. We just want a small room near the school to stay, a stable phone signal to contact the outside, a gas stove to cook for the children faster. And if there were more concrete roads, the rainy season would be less dangerous.”

In that difficult place, simple dreams become great. Because with just a decent temporary room and a pot of warm rice, the teachers can feel secure in their village and class. Hong Ngai people still say to each other: "Thanks to the teachers, our children can read and write, sing and greet adults." That simple but sincere saying is perhaps the most precious reward for the teachers, the ones who spread knowledge at the source of Tua Thang.

In Hong Ngai, every early morning, four pink-shirted figures appear in the mist, crossing the stream, following the rocky slope, to go to class with their students. Each step is a testament to the determination of the highland teachers - those who bring the light of knowledge to the remote mountainous areas.

It has become a habit that before leaving the classroom, the teachers always linger to look at each sleeping child’s face, gently pulling the blanket over them, like a mother quietly taking care of her child in the forest. There, there are silent sacrifices that no one knows about, but they contribute to nurturing the future of many generations.

Amidst the rolling clouds and mountains, the sound of reading still echoes, blending with the sound of the wind and the stream. The female teachers at Hong Ngai village are like small lamps, silently keeping the fire burning at the source, so that the light of knowledge never goes out in this remote land.

“There were nights when I missed my child, I video -called him, and seeing him smile made my tears flow. My grandparents said he was a good boy, but many days he cried for his mother. I turned off the phone and my heart ached. But thinking back, I teach for my child’s future, and for the other children too, I encouraged myself to try my best,” Ms. Mua Thi Nhi emotionally shared.

Source: https://giaoducthoidai.vn/hanh-trinh-noi-chu-o-ban-xa-hong-ngai-post755625.html