The betel nut garden remains ever green.

My garden has hundreds of betel nut trees, providing lush green shade throughout all four seasons. My childhood was spent surrounded by this betel nut garden throughout all four seasons...

Throughout all four seasons, the betel palm tree casts a lush green shade. (Photo: Dan Tri Newspaper ).

Back then, my family owned the most beautiful betel nut garden in Tri Yen village (now Hamlet 8, Kim Hoa Commune, Huong Son District). Every tree was plump, straight, and smooth from trunk to top. The foliage looked like green brooms rustling in the wind. On clear mornings, flocks of magpies would gather and sing, filling the garden with their joyful songs.

The most joyful time is during the Qingming Festival in March, when the betel nut flowers bloom. At that time, not only do the magpies gather, but also sparrows, warblers, blackbirds, and bulbuls congregate in the garden, practicing their songs and preening their feathers amidst the fragrant betel nut blossoms.

The clusters of white betel nut flowers, mixed with a touch of night dew, are as beautiful as beads. (Photo: Dan Tri Newspaper ).

My garden has hundreds of betel nut trees, their lush green shade covering the ground all year round. My childhood was intertwined with this betel nut garden throughout all four seasons. In spring, I eagerly awaited the day the betel nut flowers would bloom. My friends and I would gather under the trees, playing many fun games. When the betel nut tree was ready to bloom, the outer covering would burst open and fall to the ground, revealing clusters of white flowers, tinged with dew, as beautiful as beads. The fragrance of betel nut flowers permeated the entire garden. The flowers stayed on the tree for about a few weeks before falling to the ground. After school, my garden would be filled with the joyful laughter of friends. Under the betel nut trees, we would use stunted bamboo stalks to make a house frame, cut banana leaves to roof it, collect betel nut husks to make boats, pick betel nut flowers to make rice, use duck eggshells as pots, and build a fire with three small stones to cook rice using betel nut flowers. Oh! Those innocent childhood memories, so funny and whimsical.

As summer arrived, the betel nut garden resounded with the chirping of cicadas, mingling with the gentle cooing of doves from the fields. In the dazzling, shimmering sunlight, my family's betel nut garden remained shady... During this time, many young fruits fell, and the betel nut trees were dotted with fallen old leaves. We often gathered these young fruits to play hopscotch or use them as "ammunition" to load into makeshift guns... My friends and I would divide into teams, setting up mock battles and chasing each other under the betel nut trees. Occasionally, a few betel nut trees would shed their old leaves. When we heard the "plop" sound of the leaves falling, everyone would rush to grab them. Whenever the sheaths changed from green to dark yellow, the branches and leaves would wither, and a new layer of sheaths would sprout on the betel nut tree to replace the old ones... In the days before electricity in my village, everyone tried to make a fan from a betel nut sheath. Families without water buckets would take a betel nut sheath, cut it, and weave it together to make a bucket. The most convenient way to wrap rice balls is with palm leaves; they're both fragrant and chewy. Every summer, people in the village come to ask my mother for some to use.

As autumn arrived, the betel nut clusters, with their round, egg-shaped fruits, turned a vibrant green, each nut revealing a small, round knob like a bean. My father would go to the garden to inspect each tree, judging by the color of the fruit to determine if it was ripe or unripe before harvesting.

In my hometown, October is a month with many weddings. Traditionally, besides the feast prepared by the groom's family to present to the bride's family—including a pig's head, betel leaves, cakes, and fruits—a fresh betel nut is always included. My family's betel nuts are beautiful, so many families come to buy them.

My father went to the garden to inspect each tree, judging by the color of the fruit to know if it was ripe or unripe before picking it... (Photo: Dan Tri Newspaper ).

At the end of October, my family began harvesting betel nuts. Every afternoon, my brother and I would go to the garden with our father to pick them. Picking betel nuts was simple; all we needed to do was climb a ladder. We didn't even need to reach the last rung; the sickle, curved like a question mark, would already touch the bunch of nuts. After a quick "snip," the heavy bunch of nuts would detach from the tree. My father would calmly lower the sickle, and my brother and I, already standing ready, would catch the bunches and neatly arrange them on the ground. Quietly, my father would harvest an average of 10-15 betel nut trees each day.

During the betel nut harvesting season, my whole family is bustling with activity. The courtyard is filled with bunches of betel nuts, and every evening after dinner, my parents and my eldest sister-in-law, each with an oil lamp, a sharp knife, and a large basket, sit down to harvest them. Everyone in my family, from my parents to my eldest sister-in-law, handles the knife swiftly and efficiently. In just one night, all the betel nuts harvested from the garden are quickly and neatly processed.

During the betel nut harvesting season, everyone eagerly awaits sunny days to dry the betel nuts. Unfortunately, winter brings more rain and biting cold than warm, sunny days. Once the betel nuts are harvested, if they don't get enough sunlight, they must be dried to prevent mold. To achieve the crispy, fragrant dried betel nuts, my father often stayed up until two in the morning on many winter nights, fanning the charcoal fire and carefully monitoring each batch of burning coals. The drying device was woven from thick, dense bamboo strips, like a woven mat, in a circular shape, about one meter high. The two ends of the sturdy bamboo were reinforced with thick rattan, which my villagers commonly called the "betel nut drying chamber." Before each drying session, my father would pour a basin of kitchen ash into the middle of the room, add the fanned charcoal, place the "betel nut drying chamber" inside, and cover it tightly with a tray of fresh betel nuts. Every hour or so, when the charcoal fire died down, my father would take out the tray of dried betel nuts, then continue fanning the fire, add a new batch of charcoal, and dry a new tray of betel nuts. Every winter night, my father would dry three trays of fresh betel nuts, each tray being dried three times. For many years, for an entire week, it rained incessantly, and each tray of betel nuts had to be dried dozens of times before it became crispy and dry.

Every time I return to my hometown, passing by the old paths and gardens, I intensely miss my childhood under the lush green shade of the betel nut trees... (Photo: Internet ).

Thanks to my parents' diligence, their habit of staying up late and waking up early, and their gardening mindset, they harvested five to seven jars of dried betel nuts each year. Dried betel nuts were considered a special agricultural product back then. Even before the betel nut harvesting season, Mrs. Lan from Son Trung, Mrs. Tri, Mrs. Nam from Choi... would come to my house to "reserve" some in advance. Betel nuts always fetched good prices, and my family not only provided enough food, clothing, and school supplies for all six siblings to grow up, but also helped many relatives and friends in the village get through the lean months of March.

My old family garden now has a new owner, and my parents passed away long ago. But every time I return to my hometown and walk past the old path and garden, I intensely miss my childhood under the lush green shade of the betel nut trees.

December 2023

Phan The Cai

Source: https://baohatinh.vn/van-hoc/vuon-cau-xanh-mai/260892.htm