Thanh Hoa province, the longer I stay, the more I miss it.

Indeed, the longer I'm away from Thanh Hoa, the more I miss it. Yesterday, my group "Class 10A, Hau Loc High School, 1973-1976" was buzzing again. The class is mostly made up of people in their 70s or older, most of them "stuck" in their hometown, with only three or four people living elsewhere. One is in Vung Tau, a retired high school principal; two are in Hanoi; one is in Hai Phong; and I'm in Pleiku. I'm the only one not originally from Thanh Hoa, but I always return whenever I have the chance, considering it my home.

The shop in Trieu Loc commune has remained unchanged since the author's secondary school days; after 50 years, it's still there. (Photo provided by the author)

Wherever I go, I'm always proud to be from Thanh Hoa, as if it were the real thing.

My mother was from Ninh Binh . In 1945, she left her hometown and moved to Thanh Hoa a few years later. In 1975, she returned to her husband's hometown in Hue, where she lived and passed away. That means she spent her entire youth in Thanh Hoa, and gave birth to us siblings there. In turn, my siblings and I also spent our youth in Thanh Hoa. After graduating from high school, I went to Hue to study at university, and my younger brother went to Hue to continue his studies after finishing 8th grade.

Besides the three places where I lived for a long time – Thanh Hoa town (the Flower Garden Street back then), Chau Loc commune (where the match factory was located and my mother was the Deputy Director), and Trieu Loc commune (where my parents decided to settle permanently after retirement instead of returning to the town as planned). The reason was simple: in the town, even toothpicks had to be bought, but here they could be self-sufficient to raise and educate their children. They could eat whatever was in season, use their pensions to support their children, and... save for their old age. At that time, no one thought that 1975 would bring reunification and that they would be able to return to their hometown.

But luckily, my father worked at a food company, so I remember that whenever he went on business trips, he would take me along on his old bicycle. Wherever we went, he would stamp rice receipts like a... real citizen. That's why I got to travel to many places and know many places in Thanh Hoa since I was a child.

Furthermore, before working at the Thanh Hoa Match Factory, my mother worked at the Thanh Hoa Trade Union Federation (the name at that time). Because of the war, she was frequently evacuated. My family had two bicycles, two backpacks, two sons, and chicken and duck eggs. My parents loaded everything onto the bikes and cycled to the evacuation sites, staying with local families. Later, I considered those days as days of fieldwork. And indeed, those experiences are still vividly etched in my memory.

That's how I came to know a man in Thieu Hoa who had five sons, all strong and healthy, whose meals consisted mainly of... cassava and water spinach. But each son had his own jar of chili-infused fish sauce, which he brought out for each meal; everyone ate their own, and if they ran out, they would "borrow" from someone else and return it the next day. And I knew how terrifying the March 8th in Thanh Hoa was. Later, I wrote the poem "Thanh Hoa": "The dream of the 8th dissolves into me / March greetings with white conical hats / Apricot blossoms scatter across the sky, rustling in the wind / Suddenly I stand bewildered before the temple gate." Or I remember Ngu Loc, which to this day seems to still be the most densely populated area in the country.

Every time I return to Thanh Hoa province, I always try to visit the school where I used to study – Trieu Chau Secondary School, which used to be the only secondary school for the two communes of Trieu Loc and Chau Loc – now it's Trieu Loc Primary School. Standing in front of the school gate, I'm overwhelmed with memories, remembering my teachers, some of whom are still alive, others who have passed away.

Two of my teachers later became poets. I remember Mr. Vy, my literature teacher at Hau Loc High School, once asked me to copy his poetry collection for him. Good heavens, my handwriting was worse than his, and I didn't have any concept of presentation when copying poetry. When I returned the copied poetry to him, I noticed he wasn't happy – that's how I felt then, and I've been uneasy ever since. When I visited him again after attending a conference, he was overjoyed, boasting: "I've taught several poets who are members of the Vietnam Writers Association ! This is my favorite student." The three teachers I mentioned were the late poet Trinh Thanh Son, the poet Nguyen Ngoc Que, and myself. He was also a poet, but a club poet. He acknowledged that, but it was his poems, which I copied, that inspired me to write poetry ever since.

A view of Trieu Loc commune - where the author once lived and studied. (Photo: Provided)

As for Ms. Nguyen Thi Kim Quy, she has published several poetry collections, and I had the honor of writing an introduction to one of hers – "Waves Reverberating." She was the one who ignited my love for literature, leading me to meet Mr. Vy in high school. That's how I became the poet I am today.

And as I said, I still have many friends in Thanh Hoa. Friends from elementary, middle, and high school, and even those I met later. They are down-to-earth and kind, so once, even though I was flying Vietjet, I still accepted a few kilograms of peanuts and a jar of sour fermented anchovy sauce, a local specialty, as gifts from a friend. Of course, I had to pay extra for the fare and ate them home with all the reverence for the memories.

One day I received a phone call, saying it was Phuong, Phuong from Thanh Hoa. I blurted out: Nguyen Tac Phuong. The other person said, "Ah, yes, that's right, but now it's Nguyen Van Phuong." He was my classmate from 7th grade. His father gave him the middle name "Tac," but in Thanh Hoa dialect, "tac ri" means to control... cattle, so he changed it later. He changed it but regretted it, saying, "Wow, my friend, you still remember that. If only I had kept the middle name 'Tac' that my father gave me, life would have been so much better!" Then he messaged again: "Phuong still follows the 'steps' of Van Cong Hung. You were a good student back then, especially in Literature, so it's perfect that you became a writer."

The nostalgia stems from such fragmented memories. The streets in the provincial center are now wide and spacious, but whenever I return to the place where the People's Bookstore used to be, and across from it was the Viet Duc watch shop, I remember it vividly, even though so much has changed.

And most recently, a message arrived on my Messenger: "Hi, I'm the daughter of the kindergarten teacher from the old Match Factory. I just read your article mentioning the kindergarten teachers from the Thanh Hoa Match Factory..." And then I was left speechless for a long time...

Van Cong Hung

Source: https://baothanhhoa.vn/xu-thanh-cang-lau-cang-nho-277174.htm