Nostalgic horse-drawn carriages and buses

The once famous Lam buses - Photo archive

When I was a child, like any other child who loves to explore, I loved to travel. I loved to go out of my own gate, to see a world other than my own.

I love to go. If my parents let me go to my paternal grandparents' house, or to my ninth aunt's house or my fourth aunt's house, my siblings and I eagerly and eagerly go on foot.

Walking was fun, riding a bike was even more fun. The times I got to ride a bike were when I followed my mother to Thanh market or to my aunt's house in Cua Be, a fishing village in Nha Trang.

At that time, I often took the cyclo of the third brother Thun in the village. The third brother's name was Thuan but the whole village still called him Ba Thun (with a Thanh accent).

Mr. Ba Thun drives a taxi on the Thanh Minh - Thanh - Nha Trang - Cua Be route. If he needs to go tomorrow, his mother will go to his house that night and tell him in advance so that he can pass by his house and pick him up tomorrow morning.

Early in the morning, hearing the sound of a motorbike taxi outside the gate, the mother inside the house said "the three Xe boys wait a moment, I'll be right out", then hurriedly ran out.

At that time, mother and son were sitting in the front of the cockpit, not in the two rows of seats in the back. Sitting in the front, we could see both sides of the road very clearly. Houses, fields, shops, passersby… there were so many things to see.

Sometimes the car stopped at the railway on Ma Vong, waiting for the train to pass, and got to watch the train pass by. It was very interesting because the train was long and strange.

So many strange images. Look. Heart filled with happiness.

The happiness of the little "me", it feels happier than the children Mon, the dwarf Teo, the girl, it feels it knows more than the children who play in the neighborhood, they stay home to take care of their younger siblings and can't go. Suddenly, the "me" feels proud for no reason...

And one more thing I remember is that the third brother Thun never accepted the fare. Mom gave him money, the third brother gave him money back. Mom said: "Nonsense, Xe's father took the gas money, why didn't he take it?". The third brother said: "So tired, when will you go? If I take you, I'll be fine, what money, old lady?" The third brother said and laughed. Then he stopped giving back and forth, everyone laughed...

On the way back, my third brother's bus had not arrived yet, so my mother and I went to the bus station and took whatever bus was available. At that time, sitting in the back seat, looking around at the people around us, looking back and forth, they were like my mother, also from the countryside, their faces marked by hardship, showing the simple, gentle features of the people from Xu Thanh.

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Remembering the sound of horse hooves clopping, clopping on the sunny road - Photo archive

Sometimes when there was no trip, if he didn't take the bus, Mr. Thuan would go out to the street to catch a horse-drawn carriage. He would go out to the street and wait for the horse-drawn carriage to come down from Pha Thien Ferry.

The carriage ran very smoothly, there were two rows of seats, sitting on it felt empty behind, it was scary. When I first got on it felt like that, but after a while I got used to it and the fear was gone.

The two rows of seats were packed tightly, and the roof was full of luggage and hanging from the four corners of the car. The car was very heavy. Especially in the morning, the car was full of people, bananas, jackfruit, grapefruit, oranges, people picked them to sell at the market... The car was very heavy. I felt sorry for the horse, but I only heard people say "hardship like a buffalo" but never "hardship like a horse"...

Arriving at Ha Dua Bridge, the horse climbed the slope, its steps were heavy and sluggish, as if it wanted to slide down the slope. The child who was allowed by his mother to follow sat and worried, wondering if the horse would not be able to go up the slope and the cart would slide down the slope. Oh, all the thinking and worrying and imagining...

When getting off the horse carriage, going through the Citadel, through the West Gate, East Gate to the intersection to turn to the Citadel market. People getting on, getting off, people passing by, people coming and going, bustling and bustling. At noon, the carriage went to Ma Xa alley, deserted. Deserted. Only the sound of horse hooves, clop clop, clop on the sunny road.

...

In my entire childhood, I only got to ride a lam or a horse-drawn carriage a few times. It was a long time before I could ride it, and then a long time before I could ride it again, so the feeling was always new and strange like the first time. I was always absent-minded, looking at everything I saw, looking at everything I saw. Wanting to take it all in, take it all in. Endless, endless...

The bus trips of childhood. From those bus trips, the affection is collected and cherished. The love of people is gentle and simple but penetrating, the love of the countryside is gentle and gentle but penetrating. Then, like you, I understand "the place that lasts is the place that settles deeply", understand the love of the countryside and people, when staying, we love, when leaving, we miss. The emotions naturally exist and naturally exist, the emotions do not need to be created with sparkling words.

I understand why…

Childhood trips. Trips of memories, heavy with love…

Source: https://tuoitre.vn/nhung-chuyen-xe-lam-xe-ngua-day-hoai-niem-20240626091400306.htm