Tuoi Hoa Literature and Arts

This issue of Tuoi Hoa would like to introduce to you very vivid memoirs about the land and people of Thai Nguyen. It is an eager but proud feeling when telling about the interesting and profound experiences of young writers who visited Dai Tu tea area and Thai Nguyen Iron and Steel Factory for the first time. Tran Thi Cham with her memoir "Morning in the homeland of tea" and Nguyen Phuong Vy with her memoir "Drops of sweat" show a younger, clearer view of the traditional values that we always know.

Báo Thái Nguyên•24/07/2025

In addition, Tuoi Hoa prose also has the participation of Tran Hai Dang with the essay "The other side of the sky" filled with the thoughts of youth. What is on the other side of the sky? Are there dreams that people long to conquer? But then, busyness has drawn us into the process of perfecting and proving ourselves. There comes a time when we just want to go back, stand under the beloved old sky, close our eyes, and imagine the journey we have traveled.

This issue of Tuoi Hoa also introduces two poems with quite new and unique styles by young people in their efforts to explore and shape their own personalities. They are Hoa Cat by Pham Huong Thao and Ky Niem by Duong Ngo Minh Duc.

(Writer Tong Ngoc Han selected and introduced)

Morning in the homeland of tea

Notes by Tran Thi Cham

On a summer day, the dawn shines on the sparkling dew, the sunlight is dim, there are a few small paths of sunlight entering the window frame. At five o'clock in the morning, everything is gradually appearing before the eyes, beside the low branches of the xoan tree, there are chirping birds calling each other to find food. The car sets off for Dai Tu, the countryside known as "The Four Great Teas". Thai Nguyen tea is perceived by writer Phan Thai: "The tea products that customers admit to put the five noble things: color - air - fragrance - taste - spirit." One of them is La Bang tea. I have heard the name for a long time but I do not know what is different about La Bang tea compared to other regions.

Curiosity urged me to go to the land of tea faster. Walking on the winding village road, through the glass door is the mountainous road with endless green tea hills, green and yellow terraced fields arranged evenly, curving softly like waves. I have a strange feeling about the rice fields. To me, the rice fields are not only the continuous fields, sometimes we see the green in the morning sun, sometimes they are golden when the sun is on the mountain, every season is full of vitality with diverse colors but also a sacred feeling, bringing back many memories with the pungent smell of mud. It is a peaceful place in the childhood of every child far from home. The atmosphere here is covered with a young green color, shiny under the crisp sunlight.

This place gives me a feeling of both familiarity and strangeness. Looking far away on the other side of the tea hill, somewhere the mist is winding along with the wind to the distance, only vaguely covering the hilltop, vaguely not seeing the top, with the wings of storks flying lazily looking for food. It has been a long time since I have seen this scene, nature makes us forget our worries. Half wanting to stop here, half wanting to run to the vast grass field in the distance, lie down and inhale the sweet scent of the betel leaves and wild grass. Then let your eyes drift towards the blue sky until you fall asleep on the green grass mattress and are lulled by the wind with the scent of ripe rice in the fields.

Walking a few more steps, I was even more surprised, in front of me was a bare-rock stream. On the surface of the stream, there were streams of clear, babbling water. Unlike other streams I had seen before, this one was covered with large rocks of various shapes, with a dark gray color. The water flowed through, jostling each other to reach the new land. Children were playing under the large rocks by the stream, holding yellow umbrellas, happily splashing water, a bamboo-leaf boat drifted silently. The voices were calling out. "Ti, fish, hurry up!". Hearing the call, I felt like I was back in my childhood. The cute and funny boys and girls, smiling innocently at the strangers. Their parents had gone to the fields to pick tea early, leaving the children to play with each other. A little girl passed by me, smiling and greeting the group of guests. She had chubby cheeks, big, round, sparkling eyes, wearing a faded floral shirt. I took some candies from my backpack and gave them to her. She was a little surprised and took the candy and smiled.

I love every sound of water, every leaf falling from the bamboo hedges of the distant village drifting here to visit the stranger and those innocent and friendly people. Why do I love it so much?

"Who goes to Thai market to buy tea?

Let me sit next to you

Good tea is cooked in a durable pot,

Good tea stays warm, and the warmth lasts a long time.”

Excerpt from "Mother's Folk Song"

When mentioning Thai Nguyen, we think of two specialties: tea and steel. The folk song talks about the effort required to make a good pot of tea, not only a good pot, enough water but also good tea. "Thai tea, Tuyen girls", a saying passed down through the years, is a deep pride that people affirm. Thai Nguyen tea has an unforgettable rich flavor, while Tuyen Quang girls are gentle and charming. When mentioning Thai Nguyen tea, we think of sophistication. Tea is the pride of the children of Thai land. Tea is not simply a drink that starts stories, tea is also known as a "miracle drug" against cancer, tooth decay, aging and inflammation, especially supplementing vitamins, so it is of interest to many people. Every house has tea to drink. And tea is a drink that is difficult to replace once you are "addicted" and used to it.

Coming to Dai Tu, we learned that to have a good pot of tea, we have to go through many stages from planting, caring, harvesting, and processing tea. We and the locals experienced picking tea "one bud, two leaves". It is not easy to pick tea buds, because the requirements are very high. Tea buds must be picked properly, with one bud and two young leaves underneath. Carefully care for each bud, avoiding crushing the leaves, which will ruin the delicious taste of the tea. Not only is picking tea laborious, tea makers also go through many steps to be able to roast a batch of delicious tea.

After picking, the tea is transported to the factory to be spread out to dry with the purpose of drying the dew and releasing all the gas. We roasted the tea together, everyone attentively observing the instructions from the staff in the production facility. Each person took turns stirring the tea evenly on a 250-300°C pan - this step is called killing the yeast to make the tea lose its pungent smell and have a characteristic light aroma. Then pour the tea onto a small table specifically for kneading, knead it quickly with your hands, then loosen it, do this many times (about 10 minutes/time). Let it cool and then continue to roast, this step is done 4 times. The tea begins to have a fragrant smell, need to stir faster. After this step, pouring the tea out, we see only a little bit left. After an hour, we can see the finished product. Absorbing sweat, the group members enthusiastically cheered and helped each other. Everyone felt hot but laughed and talked happily, no one complained of fatigue because of the meaningful experience. Through the competition, all teams received prizes. More importantly, we gained experience, helped each other, created closeness, and learned to share.

The people here work hard, meticulously, the salty sweat of hardship rolls down their faces - a deep beauty. Despite the hardship, they are always happy, extremely hospitable, close, sincere.

After lunch, we drank tea and ate the “matcha green tea pumpkin seed” candy produced by the factory itself. The candy has a light aroma of green tea powder, is rich, a little bitter, then gradually sweetens on the tip of the tongue. It reminds me of when I was a child, my grandmother used to make peanut candy for the grandchildren, the children gathered around a cast iron pan, warm by the winter fire.

While chatting, the guys in the workshop took the opportunity to arrange a vase of red banana flowers. I was surprised, "Are the banana flowers really red?" Because this was the first time I saw red banana flowers in real life. I only knew about red banana flowers when I watched movies and read the poem "Viet Bac" by poet To Huu. Just using one verse, I was able to fully describe the outstanding beauty of this flower: "Green forest, bright red banana flowers". Red banana flowers are abundant in the mountainous regions of the North. In each province, depending on the soil and climate, wild banana flowers have different colors and beauty. There will be places where the flowers are bright red, orange-red, and places where they are lotus pink, but they are all brilliant and stand out among the green mountains and forests.

It is said that in the past, in the difficult years of the mountainous region, on the days of the crop gap, red banana flowers were an indispensable source of food in every family. They can be eaten as raw vegetables or stir-fried, cooked into soup to fight hunger. Recently, flower lovers often buy banana flowers to display on Tet and holidays to decorate their homes to make them more cozy and bright. The red banana flower has a short stem, the flowers grow straight up, so it is called "chi thien", has a bright red color, symbolizing luck and prosperity. The tree trunk grows straight, symbolizing resilient development. Because of its meaning and wild beauty, red banana flowers are often chosen by many poets and writers when writing about the mountainous region, comparing their beauty to that of a highland girl...

At the tea processing factory where we went, red banana flowers were used as decoration. After a long journey of sightseeing, everyone would be excited to see the color of the flowers again. Even though we were far away and in a strange place, we still felt as cozy as at home. That was the respectful and affectionate way of welcoming guests of the tea people. That trip was something I will always remember!

Drops of sweat

Diary of Nguyen Phuong Vy

Sunny, really sunny. The blazing sun, as if burning the entire August sky. The sky was blue without a single cloud. The rays of sunlight stretched through the treetops, through the gaps between the leaves and then ran wildly with the wind. Just like that, the wind and the sun took us to every corner, bringing the hot summer air. My group and I quickly moved, walking really fast to avoid the intense heat. Not only me, but perhaps everyone was excited, curious, and wanted to explore the stages of making iron and steel during the field trip at Thai Nguyen Iron and Steel Company.

Before my eyes were images of many factories and workshops. The first place we visited was the Blast Furnace.

I heard the workers introduce this place where Uncle Ho visited in the early days of the establishment of Thai Nguyen Iron and Steel Company. I felt so touched, moved and proud that this is the cradle of Vietnam's metallurgical industry.

We went to the factory to witness the process of making finished iron, steel, and cast iron products. We were very surprised and truly admired the workers who made Tisco steel. What I remember most, and will always remember, is the sound when producing steel. Long steel bars are attracted and pulled by magnets from a high position then lowered to another position below and the workers arrange them in neat bundles and piles. The sound intensity is very loud, even deafening when the iron bars collide with each other.

Following the instructions of the workers, we went up an iron staircase. There, we witnessed the entire process of making a Tisco steel bar. First, the red-hot billets, which had to be heated to thousands of degrees Celsius, were fed into the machine to make smaller Tisco steel bars. The workers in protective clothing worked silently under the harsh summer sun and the blazing heat radiating from the still-red-hot metal. Water from the cooling system poured down on the billets, the steam mixed with the heat, making the atmosphere even more stifling.

In the next stage, the billet is put into another system, which is also when the Tisco steel bars are produced. The steel is still very hot at this time. Steel is produced continuously, requiring workers to concentrate and work at high intensity. I feel the harshness of the work, the loud sound of the machinery system, the sound of steel colliding when moving, the sweltering heat of summer and from the red hot steel billet itself. To make a steel bar, so many drops of sweat fall. Witnessing the entire production process, I truly admire and am grateful to the workers. They dedicate themselves to their work.

Looking at the workshop and those workers, I feel grateful and respect for the workers who have devoted their youth and strength to beautify the homeland. The products produced here not only serve the people to build houses, serve the country to build beautiful buildings and constructions, but also contain many drops of sweat.

The other side of the sky

Essays by Tran Hai Dang

What is on the other side of the clouds? While people are constantly searching for the blue ocean, my heart has embraced all living things. Over there are cool green raindrops on the leaves, birds chirping and singing with the wind creating a wordless harmony, the vast sky reflected on the puddles of rainwater in the school yard, drawing my eyes meticulously with tiny, dense patches. The small puddle here is probably like an ocean…

The rare cool weather from the first summer rain gently reminded me of the change of time. Today, on the school yard with patches of orange shining on the jade green of the sky and earth, I tasted again the familiar scent that I had not seen for a long time. The sky and earth were filled with the pungent taste of rainwater mixed with the ground, of beautiful memories, of passions I had forgotten, of love, of strange thoughts. All of it suddenly rushed back in the haunting whispers of the green trees, the clear sounds of the starlings and the red-whiskered bulbuls.

Then one day not far away, I left behind the memories of the schoolyard to go to the strange sky. The place where people always long to conquer, but also unconsciously fear its own uncertainty. Then day by day, each year that passes, we will forget the old summers. But it seems that the more we try to reach out to touch the sky, the further away it becomes. We still forget behind the fragments that are hard to find again if summer does not return to remind us.

One day, I will be standing in the middle of a green, windy grassland in China, or walking under the splendid lights of Paris. One day, I will travel far away to the horizon, to find answers to all my curiosities. But when summer suddenly comes, waking me up in the midst of that distance, is a small and short corner of the schoolyard. Not a sound of drums, not even the sound of falling leaves. There, there, is only me in the middle of the vast avenue of memories, of a time that has long since faded.

Memories on the sunny porch, stirring my mind towards the sky. No matter how vague the future is, it always stops for a moment to become the present. So, just live for yourself, constantly pursue the desire to set foot in places you have never been, eat delicious dishes you have never tried, meet people you admire. The sky can be filled with stars at night, or shine with warm sunshine. But above all, it makes me not rush to find the answer: "What is on the other side of the clouds?" Because I am busy finding myself, finding the best version of myself, a way to live a satisfying, unencumbered life.

How quickly will youth end? When I am still chasing the distant clouds on the other side of the sky. Then tomorrow, we will never know: “What is on the other side of the clouds?”. And perhaps we just want to go back, stand under the sky that has been familiar for so long. To look up and close our eyes, sighing about the whole journey we have taken...

Pham Huong Thao

Sand flower

Desert

Burning sun

The thirsty roots

Quietly looking for

There is the sound of bells on the camel's neck.

Awaken the endless golden sand strip

Go forever... search forever...

No green oasis in sight

But see endless cactus

Turns out, in the desert