Last year, I missed the trip to Ba Be Lake on the winter solstice—the day when heaven and earth seem to draw closest together. Here, three rivers, Pé Lầm, Pé Lù, and Pé Lèng, converge amidst towering, majestic limestone mountains and vast primeval forests, where nature bestows upon people a breath of fresh air.

After a busy week of work, I took advantage of some free time on the weekend to return to Pac Ngoi village (Ba Be commune, Thai Nguyen province) – a famous ancient village that attracts many domestic and international tourists. I visited the family of a close friend, also to enjoy the tranquility and fresh air of the lake area. After so many days apart, there were so many things I wanted to share. My friend excitedly told me that last month, she took two French guests on a tour of the lake's scenic spots.

The picturesque beauty of Ba Be Lake (Thai Nguyen). Photo: Huong Ly

With two days of experience, they thoroughly enjoyed themselves. While sitting on the boat admiring Lake Ba Be, they opened their travel book "Petaouchnok Guide" to compare reality with the pictures in the book. In fact, Lake Ba Be, in the eyes of the two visitors, was much more beautiful than it appeared. As they flipped through the pages, the woman was surprised to see a photo of her younger brother in traditional Tay clothing standing on a dugout canoe. She was moved and filled with pride. She spoke while quickly taking a picture of the book in the visitor's hand on her phone. And so, my visit to Pac Ngoi that day gained another interesting story.

My sister and I strolled beneath the trees and ancient foliage along the path around the lake. Birds chirped in the leafy canopy, and the March mountain flowers released their fragrance, creating a gentle and relaxing atmosphere. From afar, we could see canoes plying the water, their engines roaring, disturbing the tranquility. Occasionally, a few people would leisurely paddle small iron boats across the lake, heading to the fields, fishing, or casting nets... these familiar sights were easily encountered. Whenever the dugout canoe was mentioned, that image still came to life vividly, full of emotion, in the stories told by the locals.

In the Tay language, dugout canoes are called "bang lua." Since ancient times, the people living along Lake Ba Be have been closely connected to these canoes. I remember seeing a photograph by a French photographer from the 1920s, which showed life on the lake more than a century ago, and possibly even longer.

We met Mr. Duong Van Chan (66 years old, in Pac Ngoi village) while he was busy weaving fishing nets. When I mentioned wooden boats, he stopped and spoke to us. Making a dugout canoe requires many hardships. Each boat represents the life of a tree, as it is carved entirely from a large, solid piece of wood, usually sandalwood, melaleuca, or mahogany.

The men in the village had to go deep into the forest to select trees, sometimes bringing rice balls to eat in the woods. The trees were felled and brought down to the stream, then buffaloes pulled them back to the village. If the tree was too large, it was processed right in the forest before transport, only to be planed and finished upon arrival. Not every family had the means to build boats due to health, manpower, or economic limitations, but whenever someone asked for help, the villagers were always ready to lend a hand. Everyone worked together, from the elderly to the young, chiseling, planing, and transporting, until the boat was complete.

The average length of a dugout canoe is 5-10 meters, and the width is 50-60 centimeters. Good quality wood can last 20-30 years, while average wood only lasts 4-5 years. Besides requiring physical strength, building a dugout canoe also demands meticulous balancing skills; even a small misalignment can cause the canoe to tilt or capsize on the lake, rendering all efforts wasted. Paddling a dugout canoe requires good health, stamina, and the ability to anticipate currents to maintain balance.

Dugout canoes have long been the means by which the people of Ba Be transported corn and rice, took people to school and to the market, visited acquaintances in neighboring villages, or even transported brides. Mr. Chan recalled: "From the time I was a child, around 7-8 years old, I learned to swim quickly and knew how to row a canoe."

Amidst the lively conversation about dugout canoes, my friend sadly recounted how, before roads were built, she was only in third grade when she rowed her own canoe from Pac Ngoi village to Bo Lu village to attend primary school. One day, while rowing, a storm hit, and the canoe suddenly capsized. The children quickly swam to the stone embankment, while the oldest girl swam and pulled the rope to tie the canoe to tree roots, waiting for the water to calm down before righting it again. Together, they bailed out the water and rowed home. This bravery and composure formed the life skills and spirit of solidarity of the people in the lake region from a very young age.

Dugout canoes drift on the water, a laborious yet romantic sight, reflecting the spirit of the people of the lake region. The men, elegant, dashing, and strong, stand firm on their small boats amidst the vast lake, whether casting nets or pulling them in. The slender women diligently row, their voices echoing as they sing folk songs, their oars splashing in the clear water, reflecting the clouds, sky, and mountains.

Each family has its own beliefs and beliefs. Some choose auspicious days to go to the forest to select trees for their boats and launch them, while others choose to follow the natural order. Not far from Pac Ngoi, in Hop Thanh village (Dong Phuc commune), there is still a large, long dugout canoe belonging to Mr. Vy's family, kept as a memento. The canoe is 7 meters long and 50 centimeters in diameter, made in 1987 from sandalwood, and used for nearly 20 years until iron canoes became common. Mr. Vy and his family brought the dugout canoe home for safekeeping, hoping that future generations will know about it and appreciate it more.

The simple dugout canoe is entirely dedicated to the people. Choosing a tree to make a boat means the tree has been formed and grown for hundreds of years, and has spent many more years fulfilling its mission on the lake. The boat is closely connected to the life and work of the people, witnessing countless hardships and difficulties, and conversely, the people of the lake region always cherish the wooden boat as a token of affection. Therefore, when the boat is no longer used on the water, the owner usually brings it back for safekeeping and preservation.

The role of the dugout canoe is not only a means of transportation but also a tool for livelihood. On the lake's surface, people cast nets to catch fish and shrimp. Moving a wooden canoe across the wide and deep lake, several tens of meters deep, is difficult enough; carrying heavy loads is even harder, yet the people living along the lake still manage it. I asked what they do if they transport buffaloes or cows. Mr. Chằn laughed and replied that the only way to get large, heavy animals like buffaloes and cows to shore is for the person to sit in the canoe, and the animal is tied with a rope to paddle across the lake. First of all, a large canoe is needed so that the person can sit securely and easily control it; otherwise, it's very easy to be thrown into the lake. After hearing this, I admired and respected even more the resourcefulness, intelligence, and courage of the people of the lake region. Perhaps that's why everyone I met here, from old to young, exuded a strong, hardworking spirit while maintaining a calm, measured, and gentle demeanor in their speech.

Since the forests have been more strictly protected and managed by the government, timber resources have become increasingly scarce, and the craft of boat building has gradually declined. In 2006, the first iron boat appeared on the lake, making things more convenient for the locals. However, this did not cause the people to forget their beloved wooden boats. The local cultural department took notice and collected a wooden boat to display at the Pac Ngoi village cultural center, preserving this unique cultural image for future generations.

Mr. Hoang Van Chuyen, head of Pac Ngoi village, invited me to the village's cultural center to see the boat on display. The long, beautiful boat is a valuable artifact representing the identity, survival skills, and community spirit of the people living around the lake. Mr. Chuyen explained that to preserve this cultural beauty and identity, the annual Ba Be Spring Festival organizes a boat race, giving the people living along the lake a chance to have fun, compete, and show off their skills. While boats and canoes constantly travel back and forth in modern life, the dugout canoe remains a constant presence in the memories, stories, and cultural life of the communities around Ba Be Lake.

One afternoon in Pò Giả Mải, while admiring the scenery, I happened to meet artists painting. On the canvas, gradually nearing completion, wooden boats appeared, depicting women rowing gracefully and leisurely amidst the majestic and poetic natural landscape. The shimmering lake reflected the sunset, both gentle and captivating. Being immersed in the daily life and work of the Tay people here, I gained a deeper appreciation for the people, nature, and cultural values ​​that the Ba Bể Lake region has preserved for generations.

    Source: https://www.qdnd.vn/van-hoa/doi-song/ky-uc-ve-thuyen-doc-moc-tren-ho-ba-be-1038882