Bring the forest back to the village.

Deep within the vast forests of Lìa, in the mountainous Hướng Hóa district (Quảng Trị province), where the Sê Pôn border river flows silently through the silvery slopes, lies a land known as the "territory" of a tree whose fragrance evokes memories – the sandalwood tree. The Vân Kiều people affectionately call it "xa rưi," while the Pa Cô people whisper "trưi" in their stories, like an echo of the forest. Its towering trunks, silent and somber, cast their shadows and preserve the soul of the villages and hamlets.

Báo Công an Nhân dân•21/06/2025

Elder Am Moan (A Quan village, Lia commune) recalls that in the past, the forest lay right behind the village. Just a few stone steps and a path through some bushes led to the forest. The forest provided firewood, timber for houses, fruit for salt, and shade to alleviate poverty. But then, the forest quietly receded like a forgotten old mother. When the Pa Co and Van Kieu people began practicing shifting cultivation, clearing land for farming, and building houses from the red sandalwood, black acacia, and precious rosewood trees, the forest began to erode, gasping for breath through the scorching hot Lao winds.

It wasn't until the forest thinned, floods swept away the fields, streams dried up, and the land became barren that the villagers began to wake up to the reality. "We must keep the forest in our village, we must bring the forest back to our gardens," a village elder once said during a campfire night about 35-40 years ago. Since then, this has become the shared aspiration of the entire community. The villagers search for saplings, for young trees, and even their own anxieties, to bring the sandalwood tree back to their village.

Mrs. Ho Thi But, from Hamlet 7, Thuan Commune, now has hair as white as kitchen ash. She lives alone in an old but peaceful stilt house under the shade of six ancient sandalwood trees. These are the inheritance her husband, a Van Kieu man who understood the forest better than anyone else, left behind after his passing. Nearly forty years ago, he walked for four days to dig up sandalwood trees as tall as a person's head, carrying them on his shoulders to plant around the house.

Bring the forest back to the village -0

These ancient sandalwood trees belong to the family of Mrs. Ho Thi But.

Mrs. But said that many times people from the lowlands came here offering tens of millions of dong for a single tree, promising to make a redwood altar and pledging not to touch the remaining tree. But she only smiled and shook her head. “This tree shelters my children during the rainy season in the forest and spreads its fragrance for my grandchildren every morning. If I cut it down, I’ll only have enough money for a few meals, and then who will stand here to remind the children about the forest?” For her, the sandalwood tree is not just a precious tree. It is a memory, a belief, and the image of her husband still lingering somewhere beneath its roots when the full moon shines down on the garden.

In A Quan village, the village elder Am Moan doesn't guard gold or guns. He guards the forest. His garden is like a miniature nature reserve, with dozens of sandalwood trees over 20 meters tall, along with 2 hectares of rosewood trees growing densely like a carpet. "After years of meticulous care, now every morning when I look out and see the forest standing there, I feel my life hasn't been wasted," elder Am Moan confided. He added that many people from the lowlands had offered over a hundred million dong for a few rosewood and sandalwood trees, but he simply said that if he sold them, the forest would die on trucks, but if he kept them, his descendants would know which trees had fragrance and which had soul. And so, the group of timber traders had to leave.

Elder Am Moan still vividly remembers the time when the Pa Co people needed to cut down at least 15 sandalwood trees to build their village's longhouse. Now it's different. Sandalwood trees grow in the fields, their branches reaching into the middle of the village gardens. The villagers now refer to sandalwood as "a treasure to be kept"!

According to old Am Moan, every year around October, the Lia region seems to burst into a golden dream. The sandalwood trees bloom with tiny flowers, their fragrance lingering like the scent of old clothes, intertwined with bedtime stories. The small, golden blossoms, as fine as sun dust, color the mountain slopes, pathways, and rooftops. Some say that one must wander there on an early October morning, before the mist has completely dissipated, to fully appreciate the simple yet wondrous beauty of the ancient sandalwood trees in this border region.

Mr. Ho Van Com, from Ky Tang village, Lia commune, led us through the forest for nearly half a day before we reached his plantation, where more than 60 sandalwood trees grow naturally. He said: "Here, every household has a few trees. Some have 3-5 trees, others have up to 40. It looks like a forest, but it's a forest in people's hearts!"

Sandalwood is a rare and protected species belonging to group IIA, and its exploitation is prohibited. However, what has kept the sandalwood forests in the Lìa region from being destroyed for decades is not just the law, but also customs and the unwritten consensus of the community. Each tree trunk is like a silent vow: not to cut, not to sell, not to betray the forest.

Mr. Nguyen Minh Hien, Head of the Lao Bao Forest Ranger Station in Huong Hoa District, said: “Propaganda here cannot be done through loudspeakers or orders. We have to go to each house, sit with them, and tell them about the law and the forest. We have to make them believe that we are people who are protecting the forest, not those who are censoring it.” And it is thanks to this method that more than 1,000 hectares of natural forest in 7 communes of the Lia region, with hundreds of ancient sandalwood trees, remain intact.

Source: https://cand.com.vn/Xa-hoi/mang-rung-ve-lai-ban-i772278/