Gotu kola from poor hometown

Basket of wild pennywort on the field. Photo: Illustration

You remind me, when I was little, in the countryside in the summer I often followed my friends to pick pennywort on the edge of the field.

Gotu kola is dry in summer because it has no water, but in return, every stem is of good quality, when boiled it makes a delicious drink.

In those days, pennywort was literally a wild vegetable, because no one planted it or took care of it. It grew on its own, and when the season came, it bloomed, spreading in clumps along the edges of fields or in gardens.

Every summer, your mother dries a bag of pennywort to make tea to drink every day. She boils a big pot of water, waits for it to cool, then adds a little sugar, and when she can buy a few hundred dong more, she adds ice to make a wonderful cool drink.

Your hometown is not much different from mine. Gotu kola grows abundantly in my hometown. I remember the summer, the terrible heat, and also the time when my body was covered with itchy bumps. My mother tried many folk remedies to treat it but in the end she gave up.

But miraculously, when I diligently drank pennywort juice, the itchy spots disappeared without me noticing. I remember every time I came home from a trip, drenched in sweat, I would run to the pennywort juice my mother had prepared on the porch and pour a few cups and gulp it down. Pennywort juice has a sweet, aromatic taste, and when I drink it, it leaves a sweet aftertaste in my throat. After drinking it, I felt extremely refreshed.

You told me about the time you went to pick pennywort and got sunstroke, rolling over on the edge of the field, your friends in the village were all panicking and scared. I thought you would “stop” that time, but the “mission” of picking pennywort in the summer still continued. Pennywort is dried and used to make tea, and it seems everyone knows about summer pennywort soup.

Waiting for a few summer rains to fall, the pennywort stalks are now less skinny and visibly plumper. Your mother chooses the freshest and youngest pennywort stalks to cook soup. You say, thanks to the pennywort soup, the meal is more delicious. Then we all exclaimed, missing home-cooked meals so much.

We chatted on and on until you stopped, grabbed my hand and said you missed the old days and the fields. The fields where pennywort plants grew everywhere, are now given over to the garment industrial park.

In the fields where pennywort is grown, people use pesticides indiscriminately, and no one dares to pick pennywort to dry and make tea or soup. Only occasionally can the whole family use a few bunches of pennywort in the garden. Seeing you sad, I feel tearful too.

My memories and yours, it seems, are not only about the clusters of pennywort in the poor countryside...

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/rau-ma-que-ngheo-3136432.html