Phan Thiet, old paths and familiar roads

Báo Bình Thuận•08/06/2023

My town, Phan Thiet, is a modest piece of land nestled at the very end of the central Vietnamese coast. Though small and delicate, it lacks tall buildings, wide roads, fortified walls, and temples.

But it always evokes in me a sense of nostalgia, growing stronger with each passing year, and no matter where I go, I yearn to return. To return like a child far from home searching for their roots, to immerse myself in the timeless aroma of fish sauce, to breathe in the scent of fish drying on the small streets, sidewalks, and thatched roofs, exposed to the sun and wind. To be alone, contemplating, walking softly on the sandy paths, the sand dunes digging into my heels. To remember, to cherish the image of my homeland, which I have carried with me throughout my wanderings.

Le Van Duyet Street (now Nguyen Thi Minh Khai Street) and Quan Bridge (now Le Hong Phong Bridge). Archival photo.

I long to walk the roads I used to travel as a child. The sparsely tree-lined roads, and the typical coastal roads, nothing but sand. It seems that only when walking on these roads, brimming with childhood memories, beneath the coconut, willow, flamboyant, or kapok trees, do I truly feel relaxed and at ease. It feels as if only in those places can I find the childhood memories I long to return to. Experiencing the nature I've cherished for so many years in my subconscious evokes an indescribable feeling of wistfulness, even though those images have changed somewhat.

In my old Phan Thiet, there weren't as many named streets as there are now. The entire town only had a few main paved roads, surrounded by smaller, sandy paths that defined the boundaries of each street and area. There weren't many! On this side of the river, on the left bank, there were only three north-south roads and three horizontal roads, including the railway. The three main north-south roads were Luong Ngoc Quyen (Nguyen Hoi), Nguyen Hoang (Le Hong Phong), and Thu Khoa Huan. The three horizontal roads were Hai Thuong Lan Ong, Ben Ba Trieu (Le Thi Hong Gam), connecting to Huyen Tran Cong Chua (Vo Thi Sau). Along with the railway, which ran parallel to Cao Thang road from Thiet Market, Binh Hung, through the station, and all the way to Phu Hoi and Muong Man. The remaining branches, while numerous in both directions, were mostly sandy paths, winding through villages and hamlets, and completely unnamed as they are today. On the right bank, chosen as the economic , commercial, and production center, there are more named paved roads. The center is Phan Thiet Market, with a main road running through the heart of the town named after the first emperor of the Nguyen dynasty, Emperor Gia Long (now Nguyen Hue). This is likely also to commemorate the efforts of previous emperors and their meritorious officials in expanding the territory and securing the southern border. Therefore, from the beginning of the central bridge (Quan Bridge) down to the small flower garden on this side, the main road encircling the flower garden bears the names of two high-ranking officials, Le Van Duyet and Nguyen Van Thanh. At that time, there was no bypass road and the Tran Hung Dao bridge had not yet been built, so the streets were not as wide and smoothly paved as they are now. There was only one main road running along the north-south axis through the town center. This road, with its northern end named Nguyen Hoang, runs across the central bridge, along the side of the main Gia Long street, to the Duc Nghia intersection, then connects to Dong Khanh and Tran Quy Cap roads, and continues south towards Bridge 40. The inner end of Tran Quy Cap road has a section connecting to the Ca Ty riverbank, named Tran Hung Dao road. A special feature of the old-fashioned way of choosing and naming roads is the road along the riverbanks and the road running along the beach, where Con Cha wharf is located. Along both banks of the river, starting from the central bridge, on the other side of the river, from the small flower garden down to Con Cha wharf, is named Trung Trac road, connecting to Ben Ngu Ong road and running to Quang Binh hamlet. Opposite is Trung Nhi road, running all the way up to Coc Pagoda and Lang Thieng cave. On this side of the river, from the large flower garden to the right up to Lo Heo is Ba Trieu road, while on the opposite side, running down to Thuong Chanh beach, is Huyen Tran Cong Chua road. The riverbanks are named after four heroic women of the nation.

I remember so much about the Huyền Trân Công Chúa street, brimming with memories of the past. If Nguyễn Hoàng street once bore the footprints of high school students near the beloved Phan Bội Châu school, with its afternoons of white áo dài (traditional Vietnamese dress) fluttering in the wind, wooden clogs clattering on the right-hand side of the road. And the mischievous boys in white shirts and khaki green pants, sitting in groups at the Ba Điệu café, craning their necks, waiting for the skirts to glide by. Especially on days with light rain, just enough to dampen the pristine white áo dài. The schoolgirls, clutching their bags to shield their chests from the rain, their conical hats tilted low to cover their backs, but the more they tried to cover, the more their hips were exposed, where the sleeveless áo dài revealed glimpses of their rosy white stomachs. Strangely, whether the rain was light or heavy, the girls, in pairs of three, walked leisurely and unhurriedly. It seemed they wanted to show off their innocent beauty, knowing that many on the other side of the street were watching. Conversely, Huyen Tran Cong Chua Street is a street of memories, a street of weekend beach outings, and also a street of youthful romance. I fondly remember the old days, the section starting near the large flower garden close to the Provincial Government building. We all ran for our lives while strolling along when suddenly a deafening siren from the water tower blared. Some of us collapsed to the ground, our faces contorted, tears streaming down our faces, too scared to run past. All because we were too busy playing and left late, forgetting the siren. I remember back then, from the area above Binh Quang Pagoda, we passed Thiet Market and then headed towards the sea. On the sand dunes beside the pagoda, sand and water would often spill out onto the road. Schools of small fish would swim leisurely from the thorny pineapple bushes and wild plants along the roadside. When they encountered shallow water on the road, they would quickly wag their tails, spread their fins, and swim back in. We just cupped our hands around the fish to catch them. We caught them for fun, not knowing what to do with them; we'd just hold the fish in our hands and show them to each other, comparing which ones were pretty and which were ugly. The small fish had two long whiskers on their pectoral fins, but their bodies were flat. The baby perch were only about the size of a finger, their bodies yellowish-brown, flapping their wings and darting sideways very skillfully. And the baby catfish were bright red in schools, swimming proudly in the water, even though each one was only the size of a chopstick tip, about a finger's length long.

Back then, the road down to the sea was lined with coconut trees; some were towering, others spread across the entire road. Especially around the Hung Long temple and the surrounding area, the coconut trees were planted in dense clumps, providing shade over a large area, used for tying ropes, mending nets, and building platforms for boats. The Thuong Chanh beach, meanwhile, was covered in a sea of casuarina trees, stretching all the way to the sand dunes, but unfortunately, there was no road leading directly to it; one had to follow the coastline. The sea and sky were vast, the waves crashing endlessly, roaring and foaming, my soul drifting aimlessly. Taking off my sandals and carrying them in my hand, I walked on the fine sand along the shore, letting the waves crash against the shore, soaking my shirt and pants. I didn't care; all I heard were the familiar words, "Phan Thiet," in my mind.

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