A areca spathe fell at night

07:40, August 27, 2023

The night had settled into silence. The crescent moon had risen above the bamboo tops at the edge of the village. The night was misty and hazy. The chirping symphony of insects rose and fell with each rustling wind. Suddenly, a squid barked loudly at the gable.

From the next room, Mom turned over, coughed and called out: "Come out and see what's going on that the dog is barking so loudly?" Is it because she's old and can't sleep at night that Mom is awake? Turning on the flashlight function on my phone, I quietly went out, the dog was still barking loudly in the garden. It turned out that a areca spathe had fallen and rustled, waking the little boy up. The cool night air and the faint fragrance also woke me up, I looked at the areca spathe for a long time, absent-minded, suddenly loving and missing it.

At that time, my hometown had a large garden, almost every house planted a few areca palms in front of the house according to the folk feng shui concept of “banana behind, areca palm in front”. The areca palms were straight, their leaves spread out and rustled in the wind. The areca flowers were faintly fragrant, falling and falling into the jar of rainwater placed at the gable. The areca palm bunches were full of fruit as a wish for prosperity, solidarity and love for each family.

Illustration: Tra My

That is when in my hometown, the betel chewing custom of the ancient Vietnamese people is still maintained by grandmothers and mothers with the meaning that a piece of betel is the beginning of a conversation. Areca trees are planted, taking up little space, having many uses, and creating a peaceful beauty for the countryside. For children, childhood memories filled with emotions and the sweetness of love always linger in the memory of areca spathes.

The children of the countryside in those days were simple with games that had become “folk heritage”, always looking forward to picking up fallen areca spathes. When the leaves turned yellow, the areca bracts gradually separated from the trunks and then a gentle breeze made them fall onto the brick yard in the excitement of the children.

I don't know why, but looking at areca leaves, I always think of areca leaves, banana leaves, bamboo shoot leaves... just like a mother's heart, all her life she only knows how to cherish, care for, and protect her children until they grow up, and then one day they wither and fall back to their roots. But according to our folk belief, death is not the end. Just like the falling areca leaves still bring people joy and nostalgia.

That was the joy of a favorite childhood game: the game of pulling areca leaves like the lyrics of the song “The Areca Leaf Puller” by musician Vinh Su. Whenever we got a big, thick, long-stemmed areca leaf, we could play to our heart’s content. One person would sit and the other would pull, taking turns to wander around every alley in the village. We played until the areca leaf was torn due to long-term friction or until everyone was sweating profusely.

The areca spathe was also meticulously stripped by my mother to make brooms to sweep the house and yard. My mother cut the spathe, pressed down with heavy objects or tucked into the bamboo fence to straighten it to make a palm leaf fan. In the days when there was no electricity in the countryside, palm leaf fans were indispensable items on summer days. Palm leaf fans followed my grandmother's hand to swing beside the hammock with her deep lullabies on summer afternoons. Palm leaf fans stayed awake with my mother's shadow all night long, when I suddenly woke up, I still saw my mother quietly fanning me to sleep. Palm leaf fans accompanied Bom's folk songs. At that time, I kept wondering and asking my father why Bom didn't take the luxurious items but only took a handful of sticky rice? My father smiled and said when I grew up, I would understand. Then I also understood that it was a folk fable, that long-lasting bargaining eventually came to a satisfactory conclusion for both sides. The rich man was cunning but Bom was not stupid. That was also the philosophy of life of the villagers, to live practically, not to be blinded by wealth that was not yours.

Areca spathe was also an indispensable item in mother's kitchen. Those were the days when father sharpened the axe and machete to go to the forest to chop firewood; mother woke up when the rooster crowed, diligently cooked rice, prepared sesame salt, and then wrapped the areca spathe for father to take with him. Those were the hard days of the harvest season in the countryside before mechanization. The fields were far away, the buffalo carts moved slowly, so we had to stay at noon to finish the work in time for the season. We eagerly waited with the adults until the sun was at its zenith, everyone rested, gathered in the shade, and opened the rice spathe we brought to eat. Whether the rice meal was because of hunger, joy, or some other reason, even though it was simple, it was still extremely delicious.

Late at night, I went out to the garden because a areca spathe fell and then lost in thought, the leaves fell back to their roots to circulate life. I brought the areca spathe into the yard to remember the not-so-distant memories...

Dinh Ha

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