The passion for the craft still burns brightly...

Happiness is nurtured from experiences and memories throughout a rather long journey in journalism from 1984 to the present – truly unforgettable! The profession has given me the ability to "dance" with my feet and the fastest hands possible to indulge my passion, explore, cherish emotions, and enrich my knowledge and life experience.

Although every trip has its hardships, even dangers, seeing these "brainchildren" born with the vibrant breath of life reignites the passion for the profession. Memories fill my mind; every time I think of them, I remember. Perhaps the most profound memories are when I became a "big sister" or "foster mother" on those trips to the border and islands...

With such happiness, what are hardships and difficulties compared to that?

Working at the Phu Quoc Prison historical site, 2014.

I have a younger brother at the border.

The historic flash flood – the remnants of Typhoon No. 4 – swept away the houses and gardens of all the households in Tung Chin 1 village, Trinh Tuong commune (Bat Xat district, Lao Cai province) at the end of 2008. Nearly two years later, when the Hanoi Moi newspaper's reporting team returned, life there had revived. The "New Border Guard Village," with 19 houses, has sprung up, a testament to the affection of the green-uniformed soldiers of the Trinh Tuong Border Guard Post for the local people.

On that trip, besides our official duties, we also brought gifts to the people of Tung Chin and had a cultural exchange with the soldiers of the Trinh Tuong Border Guard Post. That day, the person who took us to visit the households was Lieutenant Ban Van Duong, a Dao ethnic minority (from Van Ban district, Lao Cai province). It was a fortunate encounter; Duong chatted with me openly, sincerely, and naturally, like a long-lost relative. Thanks to Duong, I obtained valuable information about this borderland. Thanks to Duong, I learned that Tung Chin still lacks many things, but I believe that the difficulties will pass, and this remote mountainous region will strongly revive.

I remember, as the car lurched over the huge rock in the middle of the Tung Chin stream, Duong suddenly fell silent. His eyes turned to the other side of the stream, his voice softening: "When the flood came, my comrades held the ropes across the stream tightly so that I – with one hand gripping the rope, the other holding Mrs. Tan Su May and her child under my arm – could inch them to shore before the floodwaters arrived. In that flood, my comrades and I saved nearly 80 people in Tung Chin, but the flash flood also buried more than 3km of the stream..." I understood that the people's affection for the Trinh Tuong Border Guard Post was a source of pride and trust. Thanks to that trust, the officers and soldiers in green uniforms have stayed close to the people and the area, doing a good job of maintaining peace on the border of the Fatherland. Lieutenant Ban Van Duong, one of the border guards stationed in the most remote villages, is particularly strong and skilled in everything from planting corn and rice to encouraging many young children to return to school and helping many young people successfully overcome drug addiction.

The next day, we said goodbye to the people of Tung Chin 1 village and the officers and soldiers of Trinh Tuong Border Guard Post. At that moment, Lieutenant Ban Van Duong suddenly grasped my hand and shook it, saying, "Sister, when you return to Hanoi , always remember your border guard brother." I was surprised by his sincere affection and exclaimed, "Absolutely! Thank you, my brother, I am very proud of you"—as if it were a natural human emotion. On the way back to Hanoi, journalist Le Hang and her colleagues joked, "On the previous trip to Truong Sa, Mother Giang had an adopted child; this time, on the border, Sister Giang has an adopted brother. What a coincidence..."

Oh my, it was so impressive and full of emotion. That's how my report about the children of the mountains and forests, both timely and heartwarming, about the human kindness on the border of our homeland, came into being! Even now, my heart still aches with memories of Duong, Chao Su May (who was also born in the year of the Rat), the village headman Ly Lao Lo, and all the people I met and the stories I heard. And sometimes, in everyday life, I still hear on the phone: "It's been a long time since you came back to visit the village. Come up, Tung Chin is so different now," and my heart is filled with longing to return and visit you – my border guard soldier, Ban Van Duong.

That is happiness – the kind of happiness that comes from my profession, which makes me both emotional and proud, and has kept the flame of my profession burning brightly within me...

The endearing sound of "mother" in Truong Sa.

When I learned that I was a member of the Hanoi city delegation (April 2009), I was excited, not only because I was fulfilling my dream of visiting the sacred waters of our homeland, but also because it was an experience, a test of my strength in the face of the stormy seas.

The ship Titan, designated HQ960, arrived at Truong Sa Lon Island after two days and two nights, at dawn during a red sunset. This was a working trip organized by the leaders of Hanoi City in coordination with the Naval Command to visit and present gifts to the officers, soldiers, and people of Truong Sa district and the DK1 platform; including the groundbreaking ceremony for the construction of the Capital Guest House for Truong Sa district, which has now become a special and meaningful cultural institution in Truong Sa.

For nearly twenty days and nights, I visited the submerged and above-water islands of the archipelago, but only spent three nights on Truong Sa Lon, Truong Sa Dong, and Phan Vinh islands (the rest of the time I ate and slept on the ship). I witnessed and felt each day was a new experience of the life of the brave and resilient naval soldiers who are tasked with safeguarding the sacred territorial waters and protecting and assisting fishermen in the archipelago.

The most surprising and delightful thing was that right from the moment we left Cat Lai port ( Ho Chi Minh City) to board the ship, among the soldiers serving the delegation, there was a young soldier, about twenty years old, named Nguyen Van Phuoc (from Ha Tinh province), tall, thin, sturdy, with a tanned complexion. Probably noticing my age compared to the younger journalists, Phuoc was friendly and immediately struck up a conversation. And the innocent, carefree way Phuoc addressed me as "Grandma Giang" moved me deeply. I never imagined that my assignment would include such a handsome young man!

Then, for nearly twenty days traveling back and forth to the island, my mother and I participated in all the activities on board the HQ960: picking vegetables in the kitchen, dividing meals; going down to the hold to watch the ship's repair and maintenance; chatting with the sailors in the cockpit; watching the cultural performances on the deck; and at night, fishing for squid, enjoying the moon over the vast ocean, feeling more deeply the love and responsibility for our homeland's islands and seas... I remember most vividly Phuoc's words: "Mom, you're amazing!", because most people on the ship had experienced seasickness at least once, even the healthy sailors (and Phuoc was no exception). Yet I didn't get seasick; moreover, I was the only passenger "specially" given the opportunity to sit on the command speedboat, speeding across the vast ocean. The sun, wind, and salty seawater lashed against my face, giving me a feeling of intoxication, joy, and boundless exhilaration... My series of reports and essays about Truong Sa were born one after another in that happiness!

After that business trip, my son and I still called to check on each other's health and work. After three years of military service, my son transitioned to a professional career and now works at Cam Ranh port, having a happy family with two children. Moreover, after completing his service, Phuoc was able to visit his family in Ha Tinh, and he spent two days in Hanoi to see me. That's a truly deep bond!

The happiness I receive after my business trips – that's it! It's a priceless gift of human kindness, compassion, and immeasurable beauty. It's the source of energy, the glue that keeps me passionate about contributing, keeping the flame of my profession burning brightly in my heart...

Source: https://hanoimoi.vn/lua-nghe-van-chay-706298.html