The river carries Tet home.

The boats laden with flowers bobbing on the waves of my hometown bring the spirit of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) from the countryside to the city, carrying with them the hopes and anxieties of flower growers amidst the unpredictable weather and the worry of a bumper harvest leading to low prices.

Flower boat carrying spring

Listening to the sweet lyrics, "The bicycle baskets are full of flamboyant flowers. Where are you taking my summer?", I suddenly remembered the rivers of my hometown during Tet (Lunar New Year). In the streets of Saigon, there are bicycle baskets carrying summer, making many young people feel wistful at the farewell, while in the Mekong Delta, flower-decorated boats are carrying spring to every corner.

The land and water of the delta region are the lifeblood that nourishes this place. The river of the homeland is a poetic, simple, and endearing path that brings Tet (Lunar New Year) from the gardens to the city. Tet arrives in the delta earliest, perhaps from the riverbanks.

When the tide recedes, exposing the mangrove roots deeply embedded in the mud, the roar of Kohler engines cuts through the water, propelling boats laden with the golden hues of apricot blossoms, the vibrant orange of chrysanthemums, and the deep red of roses from the flower villages, leaving the docks of Sa Dec, Cho Lach, Cai Mon… to head to the Tet market.

Viewed from above, the Tien and Hau rivers in the days leading up to Tet resemble soft silk ribbons embroidered with brocade flowers. Flower-laden boats follow one another with the ebb and flow of the tides, carrying the scent of the earth, the sun, and the sweat of the farmers.

"Is the boat open?", people in the Mekong Delta ask each other, not asking about a boat with a leaky hull letting in water, but rather whether the "flower-carrying boat" has arrived at the dock yet. Tet hasn't arrived at the doorstep yet, but the breath of Tet can already be felt on the vast river.

Illustrative image

People in the Mekong Delta live alongside the water, creating a riverine culture and an economy based on water. The "riverine economy" is vividly and brilliantly vibrant with the colors of spring these days. It's not just about buying and selling; it's a springtime stroll.

Potted ornamental plants are not just commodities; they represent hope and dreams of a prosperous new year, carried by people from the countryside along the river to bustling cities. The river, carrying flowers to the market, is like carrying human destinies, worries, and aspirations for a better life, all carried along by the current.

A melancholic note in the marketplace.

When flower boats dock at Ninh Kieu ( Can Tho ), Binh Dong (Saigon), or the floating markets of Cai Rang, Nga Nam, and Nga Bay, the Tet atmosphere becomes vibrant. Tet markets in the countryside and waterways, as well as flower markets in the city, all exude the spirit of spring and the hope for good fortune in the new year.

People were everywhere, dressed in their finest clothes. Young men and women, and families excitedly flocked to the flower market. Many weren't there to buy flowers, but to take some photos as a memento of bidding farewell to the old year and welcoming the new one.

The scene was beautiful and joyful. Radiant smiles surrounded the rows of colorful flowers and potted plants, and flowing new dresses fluttered in the spring breeze. But hidden amidst the hustle and bustle were the poignant, melancholic voices of the flower vendors.

I once caught the bewildered gaze of an old farmer beside his pots of kumquat trees laden with fruit on the afternoon of the 30th of Tet (Lunar New Year's Eve). Many people came to look and take pictures, but few inquired about buying. Or, if they did buy, they haggled over the price, offering it "as cheap as giving it away." This mentality of "waiting until the 30th of Tet to buy cheaply" among some city dwellers inadvertently inflicts painful wounds on the hearts of flower growers.

The sight of plum blossoms being sold at drastically reduced prices, the hastily scribbled "clearance sale before going home for Tet" signs on cardboard, or even more heartbreaking, the scene of sellers having to throw away unsold flower pots, are somber shades in the otherwise vibrant spring landscape.

Buyers are delighted with the beautiful photos they post on Facebook and Zalo. Meanwhile, the sellers, the traders who spend their lives navigating the market and river trade, hide their tears deep inside.

They were saddened not only by the loss of their capital, but also by the fact that their hard work under the sun and rain was not appreciated as it deserved. The rural market during Tet, traditionally a place for exchange and trade, but also a place for greeting each other and cherishing old-fashioned friendships – does that still exist?

Anxiously waiting for the flowers to bloom.

Every year, those who work in the ornamental plant business for Tet (Lunar New Year) are essentially gambling with nature. This year, that gamble seems even more challenging. Climate change is no longer a distant topic discussed in international forums; it has knocked on the doors of every garden and every flower bed in this land known as the rice granary, fruit granary, fish and shrimp farm, and the land of ornamental plants and gardens.

This year's weather is as unpredictable as a teenage girl's mood. One moment it's scorching hot, the next it's pouring rain. Cold in the morning, hot at noon, then thunderstorms in the afternoon. Flower growers in Sa Dec flower village, the cradle of plant seedlings in Cho Lach, or the flower villages of Ba Bo - Can Tho are constantly on edge.

If flowers bloom too early, it's worrying; if they remain in bud and refuse to open, it's heartbreaking. To have a pot of chrysanthemums full and round, or a vibrant yellow apricot blossom tree blooming perfectly on the 30th or 1st day of Tet (Lunar New Year), flower growers must "eat with the flowers, sleep with the flowers," watching every breeze, measuring every drop of dew, and adapting to the temperature of unseasonal and out-of-season rain.

I have a friend who grows apricot blossom trees in Cai Mon. When I met him again this Tet, his face was tanned from the sun and wind, and his eyes were sunken with worry. He said, "We work all year, looking forward to just a few days of Tet. But the weather is testing us so much. Saltwater is threatening to intrude, freshwater is scarce, and then there are unseasonal rains... Getting the trees to 'smile' right on Tet is a real struggle."

The recurring theme of "water scarcity, river thirst" in the Mekong Delta region over the past few years is manifested in the form of stunted or late-blooming flower pots. Land and water resources are the foundation of this region, but when those foundations are damaged by climate change and human impact, the steps of farmers become more precarious.

They are not only anxiously waiting for the flowers to bloom, but also worried about rising input costs: fertilizers, pesticides, labor... everything is increasing, only the price of flowers remains volatile and uncertain.

The boats laden with flowers leave the dock carrying both the bank debt and the fragile hopes of the farming family. Their spring, their wives and children's prosperous Lunar New Year, all depend on these journeys back and forth, left to the whims of the market.

The river still flows, and spring still arrives according to the natural cycle. But for the river to carry the spirit of Tet (Vietnamese New Year) to every home, for the smiles of flower growers to shine as brightly as the flowers they cultivate, understanding and sharing are essential.

Don't let those boats carrying spring depart, only to return burdened with heavy hearts, leaving behind sighs of despair on the silent New Year's Eve.

TRAN HIEP THUY

Source: https://www.sggp.org.vn/song-cho-tet-ve-post838655.html