Remembering Ninh Binh | baoninhbinh.org.vn

Before that, I only knew that Ninh Binh had many limestone mountains. My memory is of the mountain next to my grandmother's house, with a rock jutting out across the road, covering a long stretch like a cave, and another famous cave. My uncle's family raised goats there...

About ten years ago, I had the opportunity to visit Tam Coc-Bich Dong. While mesmerized by its grandeur, and piecing together the stories my mother told me, I wondered if the place my mother often talked about—that military factory, the place where she first left home—was one of the caves in this vast complex.

After she passed away, I didn't have time to ask exactly which area she lived in at that time. I vaguely remember it being the Tam Diep region. Then, after reading "Going into Hiding" by writer Binh Ca, who was formerly the Vice Chairman of the Ninh Binh Provincial People's Committee, I suspected she lived in the Tam Coc-Bich Dong area? But both the Tam Diep mountain range and the Tam Coc-Bich Dong cave system are incredibly beautiful. It's also possible they are connected, because, as I said, the whole of Ninh Binh is one giant cave system.

In 1965, when the US bombed North Vietnam, before the April 3-4 attacks, my parents took my brother and me from Thanh Hoa town to Ninh Binh to leave us with our aunts. We stayed in the Luon cave on Dung Duong mountain, which has the famous Thien Ton cave. Then we visited the temples of King Dinh and King Le, surrounded by mountains. It was majestic and beautiful, but it was only beautiful; it would have been very cramped to use as a capital. Therefore, the relocation of the capital was absolutely correct.

Most recently, I went to Ninh Binh, where my brother-in-law took me to visit a series of scenic spots, and together with writer Suong Nguyet Minh, we even went to Ninh Van stone village... and only then did I realize that the reputation is well-deserved, the allure, the revealing nature, the potential, and the grandeur of this region's natural beauty.

During my visit, I saw them processing the stone much like the people of Hue process flour to make tapioca dumplings—even easier than cutting a tray of rice cakes into neat squares. But now, I hear that Ninh Binh stone is also running out, so they have to go all the way to Thanh Hoa to buy stone from Nhoi Mountain for crafting.

Hearing that I was from Pleiku, a young man in the village exclaimed: "I just delivered a stone gate there!" I had also visited the Non Nuoc stone carving village in Da Nang, and indeed (this is just my personal observation), the people of Ninh Van know how to breathe life into stone more subtly and vividly.

Ninh Binh now boasts incredible advantages for tourism. And isn't the Tam Coc-Bich Dong area amazing? Anyone who's been there, rowed a boat, traversed through caves and mountains, encountering caves that seem to block the path, forcing people to squeeze through in the boat, only to reveal vast fields of reeds, and then another cave after another. It's no wonder that Mr. Binh Ca, who spent several years "undercover" as Vice Chairman of the province, wrote the book "Going into Hiding" as a way of showing gratitude. It's a story, but above all, it's a tale about the mesmerizing, enchanting, and captivating scenery of Ninh Binh's caves...

But that's not all; there's also the entire Trang An Scenic Landscape Complex, Cuc Phuong National Park, Phat Diem Stone Church, and many more.

I also remember that year, when I, along with writer and journalist Xuan Ba ​​and poet Le Quang Sinh, were on our way back to Thanh Hoa, and for no reason at all, we abandoned the trip and went into Cuc Phuong forest to rent a room for the night to enjoy the pleasure of being in the middle of the forest at night, even though basically people only visit this place during the day.

Even the ancient capital of Hoa Lu, where I only visited to offer incense at the temples of King Dinh and King Le, was spectacular enough to explore completely. The province's cave system alone would take a whole month to fully experience. And after exploring it all, I was left speechless, exclaiming: Our country is so beautiful, so majestic, and how small we are in the face of this magnificent nature...

I remember when I was little, my mother sent us there to escape the bombing. About a week later, the entire Da Gia area was hit by a terrible bombing raid, and we had to run into Luon Cave and stay there for a whole week. And that's when I first learned about Ninh Binh's rock moss dish.

Recently, writer Sương Nguyệt Minh, a true Ninh Bình native (only my mother is from Ninh Bình), excitedly handed me a large jar of dried moss. He knew I was addicted to it. My grandmother used to make crab stew, but now crabs are scarce, so I often make a salad with it to treat my friends. It's very simple: just rinse it with hot water to freshen it, then add lemon, garlic, chili, fish sauce, peanuts, and a little bit of pork skin – that's nice too – and mix it all together with the prepared moss. Oh my god, it makes you drink a lot of alcohol!

Ninh Binh in my childhood had a few more "specialties": coal slag and dust. Once, when I visited my maternal grandparents' village in Hue (my paternal hometown), I was wearing a white shirt, and in no time, it was completely black. And then there was... limestone. The whole village on my maternal side had a stone-splitting trade, which was both dusty and noisy...

But now that I'm back, Ninh Binh is completely different, magnificent in my eyes. It's Ninh Binh that has thoroughly exploited its natural strengths, its scenic spots, its caves and mountains... All of them are specialties, truly a non-polluting industry. It's a wonderful synergy between people and landscape.

And then there's the strength... the givers. I was invited by relatives to lunch at a restaurant nestled against the Sao Khe River, and the meal felt magnificent because of the wealth of history flowing through it. Ninh Binh proudly boasts being the land of two kings, and now, the relics related to these kings are carefully preserved.

My brother-in-law, who is now in charge of the Hoa Lu Ancient Capital Historical and Cultural Relics Conservation Center, carefully bought incense and flowers for me to pay respects to our ancestors. My mother's surname is Le, so I went both as a guest and as a descendant paying respects to our ancestors.

There was a time when the same historical sites and scenic spots were cold and desolate. Now, with a heightened awareness of its culture, history, and economy, Ninh Binh has changed dramatically and unexpectedly. Becoming a renowned tourist destination, Ninh Binh is now a name frequently mentioned, and I am proud of that. Proud and grateful to our ancestors who left behind such a vast legacy for their descendants, including me, a distant descendant.

Within the system of local literary magazines, there is a very interesting group association: Literary magazines of the ancient capitals. The group includes Hanoi, Thua Thien Hue, Ninh Binh, Phu Tho, Thanh Hoa...

Every year, the group organizes very interesting workshops on how to preserve, promote, research, exploit, and create in that land brimming with history and culture. Looking back, I realize I'm connected to three places considered ancient capitals: Hue, my paternal hometown; Ninh Binh, my maternal hometown; and Thanh Hoa, where I was born... I remember a poem I wrote about Ninh Binh:

"In Ninh Binh, I spent many nights in my childhood hiding in Luon Cave to avoid bombs."

Smelling the rain, the Heavenly Venerable felt a pang of jealousy.

In Ninh Binh, my neighbor came over to borrow a mirror.

Her hair was braided, and her eyes seemed indifferent.

"I was stunned by the look in that teenage boy's eyes..."

That young man is now sitting in the South, reminiscing about his childhood in Ninh Binh...

Van Cong Hung

Source: https://baoninhbinh.org.vn/nho-ninh-binh/d20240416092655174.htm