Remember rambutan season

I am living in the heart of bustling Ho Chi Minh City, a place of constant movement, where one can see all the colors of life, but there is one thing that the city is always rare, that is silence. Whenever I have the chance, I visit the countryside of Dong Nai, where my sister is a teacher at a secondary school in Long Khanh. That place, which preserves a strangely simple beauty, is the season of ripe red rambutan.

I still remember the first time I visited her in May, when the sun had dried the first rains of the season, which was also the time when rambutans were in season. The lush green gardens, stretching along the red basalt slopes, were dotted with clusters of ripe red fruit. Rambutan in Long Khanh is not as luxurious as imported fruits, and does not have a sophisticated appearance, but has its own unique appeal from its sweet, cool taste to its rustic yet familiar beauty.

I followed her through the small village roads, shaded by trees on both sides, listening to the chirping of birds and the smell of sunshine in the wind. The rambutan gardens were bustling this season, people were busy harvesting, the old bamboo baskets were also busy in the season. Each bunch of fruit was heavy, competing to show off their bright red, lemon yellow, sometimes light pink colors. Adults laughed loudly, children happily ran after the handcarts loaded with fresh rambutan. That bustling atmosphere made me feel a very real, very real joy in the countryside here.

Rambutan is not only a sweet summer fruit, but also a part of the neighborhood love here. In Long Khanh, people do not calculate much. Whoever's garden ripens first will pick first, then share a little with relatives and neighbors. Some people even pick a big bag to send to their children far away from home. Rambutan is a fruit that can connect people's feelings through simple but profound sharing.

That afternoon, my sister and I sat on the porch, carefully peeling and enjoying each rambutan that had just been picked, the sweetness permeating our mouths, cooling us down in the dry summer sun. In the countryside, there were few vehicles, only the sound of the wind and the giggles of children playing in front of the alley. I suddenly realized that, in the hustle and bustle of life in the city, it was moments like these that were truly precious.

The rambutan season that year passed, leaving me with an unforgettable feeling. Not only because of the sweet taste of the fruit, but also because it reminded me of a peaceful life, a simple value that is gradually disappearing in modern life, that is the connection between people, the hospitality of honest and sincere farmers.

Now, every time I see bunches of rambutans at the Saigon market, I feel nostalgic for Long Khanh, for the golden sunny afternoons, for the country road full of fallen leaves, for my sister still standing quietly by the chalkboard with her students. I realize that sometimes happiness does not lie in the big things, but in the simple things, like the seasons of ripe red rambutans in the garden back then.

Teapot

Starting from September 7, 2020, Dong Nai Online Newspaper opens the column "Simple things".

This will be a new “playground” for all readers across the country with simple but meaningful social perspectives, which are sympathetic to many people and meet the criteria of the column, which is “simple things”.

Articles sent to: baodientudno@gmail.com; Tel: 0909.132.761

The editorial board will pay royalties to authors whose articles are published according to regulations.

See details here.

BBT

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/van-hoa/dieu-gian-di/202507/nho-mua-chom-chom-a7a035d/