In 1954, my family, as well as dozens of other poor families, emigrated to the South under the guidance of the master. Later, when they took each other to court, we found out that they were just those who took advantage of the situation to steal aid money from the program to help the migrant movement. In the south, we temporarily lived in Saigon for a few months to carry out procedures, then followed the owner to Da Lat to continue the life of horses and buffaloes to clear the forest for farming. But after more than a year, their staining was exposed, and my family returned to Saigon. I was 10 years old at the time, but I had never known school. I could read and write thanks to my grandfather who woke me up during the time my family was living in Hanoi and the first time I migrated to the South.
From Da Lat back to Saigon, after a few moves. Sometimes it was crowded with another family, who lived in the same village in a narrow garage. At the time, the rent was divided, with a few other poor families in the same situation in a rickety house located deep in a poor neighborhood on Le Van Duyet Street (now CM Thang 8 Street). In front of the house is a swamp, behind the house is a cemetery with dozens of gloomy graves all year round. After a short period of "nomadness", my family really settled in the alley of 116 To Hien Thanh, often called Xom Tre. A zigzag alley right next to the "Administrative Unit" barracks. The inhabitants are mostly soldiers, workers, vagabonds, and prostitutes.
Because I was older, thanks to my literacy, I was able to do 4 calculations quite fluently, so I went straight to the fourth grade (today's 2nd grade) Chi Hoa Primary School. It was my first school, also the place where I gained so many good things. solid foundation for the rest of my life. Even though it has been more than 60 years, with so many changes of the times, I still remember very well the shape and personality of the 4 teachers who taught me in 4 years of primary school (fourth, third, second and first grade).
Ms. My Linh is from the North, always luxurious with a colorful ao dai. She always repaints her lipstick, applying a little more powder on her pink cheeks before play or school. Mr. Ha Mai Anh, a respected, soft-spoken and gentle teacher, always spends her free time reading about human ethics and patriotism. He explained and led us into the beauty of ideal people for society and the country. Mr. Man is tall and graceful, quite austere, the Northern people are very strict, very carefully controlled, especially the homework of the students. Mr. Linh is from Hue, white, very soft-spoken and meek like a girl. He hated and punished students who yawned without covering their mouths with their hands.
I don't know how other students are, but for me, being opened up by my teachers, the time to go to school is one of the very important causes and conditions. It was the traces of their moral education that changed my life in a strange and unbelievable way. A dirty boy, diving with stagnant mud in a sluggish environment of society. From those lucky opportunities, I got out of the shadows and got up and dragged the whole family to a pretty good life. That goodness is probably not worth calling big, noble compared to many other people. People whose ancestors had a solid foundation in family and education in society. But with an unfortunate situation like my family, it is a strange phenomenon.
Today in the press, television and also on social networks... in the country as well as abroad, filled with the atmosphere of celebrating the new spring. In the quiet, cold space of Switzerland, where I settled. I feel a little sad when the memory is pulled back to an old event that occurred in the atmosphere of the spring celebration of more than 60 years ago. At that time, I had just turned 13 years old, a first-grader, elementary school (5th grade today). He went to school barefoot every day in ragged clothes full of rough patches by my mother's hands.
That day, even though Tet had passed for about 2 weeks, it was still noisy around my house, especially in the afternoon and evening. Everywhere, people gathered to eat and drink, sing ancient songs, or surround the silver mat, shake the tiger fish crab gourd... As usual, at noon, my dad would come home to have a quick lunch with his family, take a nap, and then he would ride his bicycle to work. After the meal, our brothers and sisters automatically divided to clean the house and wash the dishes. Then my brothers and my mother went to the back of the house, close to the mouth of the public water well, and put their heads in the boxes of laundry rented for several families in the neighborhood. I was alone in the room behind the living room. Paying attention to dozens of glass marbles and a stack of "picture papers" prepared to leave the house to join the game with his friends in the neighborhood.
Accidentally, while looking at the room, from my mother's silver brown pocket, hanging along the pillar at the head of the bed, a few pieces of foil sticking out hit my eyes. With a little surprise, I looked at the coins with more attention. At that moment, the image of a plate of rice mixed with wrappers was fragrant. A bowl of smoky soup with a piece of pork sausages the size of a crispy white knife handle floats in the middle of the bowl. Then the colorful and cool carrot tree, just putting it in the mouth to suck it is enough to make you fall in love for a full 10 minutes of playtime... It all appeared very clearly in my imagination. It reminds me and pulls me back to the desires of how to have money to buy those dishes to serve an empty stomach every morning when I go to school. I also won't have to bow my head or rush to walk past the shops and food trucks along the road, which I have to pass every day. I will buy and enjoy with all the pleasure just like the rich children. They were in the same class, in the same school as me, they still ate or drank on the way to school, but I could only bow my head and pass by!
With that fantasy, more saliva was released, making me want to have the banknotes that were appearing before my eyes, in my mother's pocket. My hands trembled a little when I reached into my pocket and grabbed all 3 banknotes, one 10 dong and two 20 dong notes. At that moment, wisdom (or cunning) told me that if I took it all, the money was too big, I would definitely realize it immediately. The best, safest thing is to take only one sheet that will make you think of confusion or dropping. But it was also the right time to be wise and calculated. In the depths of the soul, there was a little holiness of a child who had just turned 13 years old, a feeling of shame because he knew that it was the act of a thief. Especially stealing from the mother who gave birth, loved and nurtured her. With that thought, my hands trembled slightly, and I was about to put all three banknotes back into my mother's pocket. But at the same time, fragrant and attractive dishes appeared in memories, dreams... It gives me the ultimate pleasure of food, even if it's just a fantasy! I withdrew my hand with all three bills!
After such concerns and struggles between crime and neatness. Finally, with a bit of stiffness, I decided to roll up a 20-sheet piece of paper and put it in my pocket, and the other two sheets were put back in my mother's pocket. The bag was still open as if waiting for the remaining conscience in my brain, a boy who loved his mother very much (because I didn't take all 3 banknotes). Somewhere, I turned my shirt inside, hiding its original arrogance. (But maybe part of me wants to hide my mother's pocket so that I don't have to see the attraction that is more or less still present in my heart, a child who is at the age of voraciousness!)
Throughout the afternoon and evening, I was quieter, not going out to play with the neighborhood kids as usual. Occasionally she looked at her mother discreetly to detect her mother's reaction when she discovered the loss of the money in her pocket. But all was normal, my mother was completely ignorant even though she had changed the shirt she was wearing with a "money" shirt on her body. I had a sense of security when I thought that my wisdom, my calculations, not taking all the money was correct!
The next morning, it was normal! My father went to work, me and 2 younger siblings (a girl, a boy) woke up and prepared to go to school. The only thing that was unusual was that I pretended to be slow to let the 2 younger siblings go ahead and then I slowly left the house after a while. I do this to make sure my brothers don't see when I use the money to eat along the way. Then on the way to school, before entering the school yard, I stopped by a roll truck right next to the school gate and ate a rather large plate. When I go out to play, I also discreetly buy an ice cream to the corner of the yard and enjoy it slowly. The money is still quite a lot.
When I came home at noon, my mother was still busy bowing her head to her nameless daily tasks. After family meals, our brothers still gather to do homework, prepare for school the next day or help our mother when requested, and then share and play with the children in the village. I had nothing to worry about, I knew for sure that my mother had for some reason not felt the loss of money in her pocket.
After dinner, I don't know why I asked my brother to go out (maybe because I love you, I want to share the joy with you?!). He was a little surprised by my somewhat exceptional invitation, but he was still happy to follow me, but he didn't seem very enthusiastic. I led him to the paved road along the side of the "Administrative Unit" barracks. This place is busy all year round like a festival, especially in the evening. From gambling, eating and drinking, singing, billiards, table tennis... etc. . After a while, I walked around and watched the people have fun. Silently, I led him to sit down on a low-legged chair next to the rudimentary, slightly stained wooden table of a woman selling broken rice on the side of the road. Very calmly, I ordered 2 plates of rib plate rice. The younger brother stared at me with a look of extreme surprise on his face. After a while after he had regained his composure, he asked softly:
"Do you have the money to dare to ask for such a delicious "meal"?
I don't know how to answer him at ease. But maybe he also found his question a little absurd, because I didn't have money, why would I dare to order food? He looked at me and asked in the other direction:
"Where do you have the money?"
Reaching out to the void, and patting him on the shoulder a few times, I replied, "
You just eat to your heart's content, and I'll tell you if I have a chance.
Hesitating, I looked at him for a moment, and added:
"But you must be discreet, and you must not tell anyone what I am going to tell you!"
The younger brother looked at me silently, seemingly a little reassured. Reaching out to take 2 aluminum spoons in the bamboo tube at the table holder and arranging them neatly on the table, waiting for the saleswoman to bring two plates of grilled rib rice for me and her. After eating, I took the money to pay, I still had 6 dong left, Holding it out in front of my brother, I said,
"I still have 6 dong left, if you're still hungry, let's find something to eat!"
The younger brother looked at me a little touched, and said quietly:
-Then you know, poor like my family, what's not delicious, how much to eat?! My
brother's lament made me think dull! It was true that we had never, not even once, been able to eat a dish that we liked. For a whole year, Hoa Hoan has only had the opportunity to eat a bowl of pho, a plate of grilled rib rice or a bowl of soup cakes... small and cheap, how can you not covet it, not dream of it? Putting my arm around his shoulder and pulling him along, I said:
"Come on, now go to ice cream, what money is left for tomorrow when I go to school and you eat "ice received" (shredded cold ice pressed into a glass and add a few tablespoons of syrup).
As I sat eating ice cream, I told him in great detail the origin of the 20 silver coins, which I had "stolen" from my mother's pocket. The younger brother sat and listened silently, with absolutely no attitude of expressing resistance or sympathy with me, except for a few worried words if my parents found out! I also did not forget to remind him many times that he had to keep the matter secret for me.
After eating ice cream, the remaining 3 dong of the two of them considered a happy day over, happily holding hands and crowding into the crowd planning to go home. Sometimes on the way back, stop curiously to watch the fun along the way. When we arrived at the end of the alley, a noisy crowd surrounded the tiger fish crab gourd, and the joyful laughter of some of the winners made the two of us stop and creep in to watch. Banknotes of all denominations are dropped by players on the silver mat. Happy words accompanied by outstretched arms to collect the winnings of gamblers... It has made our brothers dumbfounded.
Looking at my brother, he was also looking at me. The 3 dong left in the bag appeared, only enough to buy 2 carrots or 2 glasses of ice that were too small tomorrow. The money will be gone, the joy of tomorrow will also end... That thought, that calculation came to my mind (and maybe my brother too?!) . I whispered in his ear:
"Let's try to play a coin!
The younger brother frowned slightly, but also nodded slightly in agreement! There is no reason to hesitate to throw 1 dong on the table! As I dreamed, I won with my overjoyed smile and my brother who is 5 years younger than me! Then again, I still won in joy. The dream with more delicious food, bigger than the glass of ice, the carrot tree tomorrow for me and my brother appeared even more in my imagination.
Just like that, the game continues. Losing and winning alternately. Joy and sadness appeared on the faces of the 2 boys, knowing the red and black game for the first time! At one point, we had 4 dong, 3 and then 2 dong. Our joys and dreams also gradually diminished, and then disappeared completely when the last silver coin was collected by the "master"! The two brothers stood up languidly, forgetting all the wishes of the glass of ice or the coffee tree tomorrow when we went to school.
Back home, everything was as normal as yesterday, we still sat at the desk to review, brush our teeth, wash our faces and go to bed. Early the next morning, my brother and I went to school together in silence. The two brothers looked at the stone truck and curry, both of them had a sense of regret and seemed to blame themselves for being stupid for gambling!
Then at noon, I went home, and dinner was no different, everything seemed to have drifted into oblivion. Calmly, I took a stack of "picture paper" with a few glass marbles out of the house and joined the game with the neighbors' children.
While playing, my sister (2 years younger than me) ran out and told me that I had to go home immediately, my parents were waiting. It's not strange because when my parents call me or other younger siblings home for something, I have to stop playing, it happens very often. I collected my toys and went home calmly. But when he just walked through the doorway. My father got angry, ran out and grabbed my earlobes, dragged me into the house, and made me lie down on the wooden counter. Dad took the chicken feather broom and smashed the dust bags on my buttocks, calves and back, and he screamed as if in harmony with the whip. My father told me the crime of "stealing my mother's money", taking me to gamble... Not only that, my father also brought out other crimes in my past such as being chaotic, daring to argue or using impolite words against aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters... in relatives. Meanwhile, my mother stood silently watching. Even though I was beaten, I could still see very clearly that my mother did not seem to be angry, but on the contrary, she frowned, a little panicked every time he raised his hand and whipped the whip down my body.
At one point, seemingly unable to bear my father's excessive punishment, my mother ran over and snatched the bare tear from my father's hand and shouted:
"Come on! Hitting him like that is more than enough!
With a little surprise because of her mother's unusual and strong interventionist attitude. Dad turned to look at his mother and shouted:
"Are you still defending him?" Fortunately, I asked my brother to tell her, otherwise only a few times, getting used to it, he fell into a gamble, red and black... At that time, he dared to sell his whole family to gamble!
Mother was no less, throwing the ceiling in the corner of the house and then using words to criticize the way she woke up her child with an excessive whip, lacking the softness of her father. Blame him for not knowing how to analyze so that he can see right and left, being stupid, right and wrong, but only knowing how to use a whip! Although he was a little surprised by his mother's objection, he seemed to be a little narcissistic, and his father ran to the corner of the house and picked up the ceiling. She didn't respect me, put her hand back on the whip, stood up and covered me, and said to my father very plainly:
"Do you want to beat him to death? Your story is done, more than enough! Let him bathe and go to bed, tomorrow is my business for his mistake!
In the end, my father couldn't help but look at me with angry eyes, saying a few words of frustration because of my mother's protection. Before leaving the room, with a look of frustration, Dad let go of a sentence:
"It's true that you're bad at me!
That day, it was a heavy evening in the family. I looked at the "talkative" brother with angry eyes. And he tries to avoid meeting or bowing his head in fear every time he has to confront me! My parents also had fewer words, sometimes discreetly looking at the bruises that were visible on my thighs and calves with sympathetic eyes. Perhaps because he was tired and too painful with the blow was quite heavy, but he could also be shy and afraid when he had to see his father's frustrated eyes. That night, I went to bed earlier than usual.
I don't know what time of the night I woke up, but I just opened my eyes to look. Mom was massaging oil into the bruises all over the back of my body. Sometimes my mother sighed and whispered, but it was so close that I could still hear: "Poor boy! Beating me to this extent is really too much!" or "With such huge bruises, what kind of face can he go to school to meet his friends and teachers?!". At that moment, the sound of my father's flattened slippers came out of the inner room, not knowing what to do. My mother stopped her hand to massage me, turned to me, and said to my father:
"Sit down, I have something to tell you!"
After speaking, my mother lifted the curtain, sat next to the "counter", my father silently pulled my study chair closer and sat down and waited. My mother said to my father every sentence:
"Do you think that your bruised and cruel whips are to soothe him, to make him understand his mistakes...?
Without letting Mother continue, Pa interrupted with a look of exasperation:
"You keep fighting him! So according to my grandmother, is it right that he stole money, and then took me to gamble?
"I'm not saying that stealing, it's right to take you to gamble. But I want to say that his way of raising children is too rigid, without his advice, analysis of right and left, and foolishness is useless. He only scared him in front of him or when he was a child!
Her mother's words silenced him for a moment before he spoke up:
"So you want me to make him afraid and let him know without repeating the offense?"
Mother was silent for a moment, and then said slowly,
"This time, you didn't just charge him with stealing money. He also drew up his other sins in the past and poured his anger on the whips in a very absurd way. In my opinion, in addition to the crime of stealing money to take me to play crabs and tiger fish, it is wrong. As for other sins, you better think again!
Dad remained silent, and Mom hesitated a little, and then said every sentence, word by word:
—With the previous sins that you told about when you beat her. Please rethink the attitudes, actions and people of uncles, aunts, uncles... in his relatives. Are they right, fair, and clear? Then why does it have to have chaotic words and actions with them?
Pausing for a moment, also in a small but very clear voice, my mother continued:
"And the crime of stealing money and taking me to gamble is wrong. But with his blow just now, as far as I can see, it was all violence, it was to release his anger, there was no education at all. He did so, making him hate his brother for telling him about his crimes of stealing money and gambling. I assure you, the next time you commit a crime it will be more discreet, wiser so that you and I do not know. Whatever the result, he guessed it.
Looking at her father, she continued:
"As for the previous mistakes of mixing up with relatives, you have already beaten her, but this time you have beaten her again! Isn't that excessive? So, have you ever sympathized with the pain of your children when they have to offer their own toys to the children of their uncles and grandmothers... when their children cry and want to take his. He does not love, does not understand the pain and anger of his child. He even forced her to give it up just because of the very unreasonable and unfair request of the children's parents. When his son refused, he resisted with unflattering words, but he scolded him for messing with his uncle! There are so many other strange and absurd things, I think he knows very well, but he only forcibly punishes his children because he respects them too much! For me, it's mistakes, bullying, injustice... I hope you understand, it's time for us to rethink ourselves!
She paused as if to regain her composure and continued:
"I don't want to say good things about my children, but you can see it too well. They know how to help me cook, do laundry, carry water for my family, neighbors to earn extra money on his salary... As for the children other than the children of uncles and uncles, are there any relatives who have touched that work? That's why my child's education has nothing to complain about and trouble! I don't know what the future holds, but to me they are good children!
Seeing that my father was silent and seemed to understand the matter, my mother went on softly:
"I intend to discuss with you something that you should not use such an excessive whip with your children from now on. If he was too angry, he tried to avoid going away, so that I could use words to teach them. As for stealing money and taking me to gamble just now, he hit it like that. The rest is left to me. Tomorrow afternoon when he goes to work, he has not returned. I will find a small word of advice, just wake it up. I'm sure he'll figure out his mistake and won't be foolish enough to get involved again! I'm sure he's not a fool who puts his head down in gambling, neglecting his studies.
Lying in bed, pretending to be asleep, I heard all of my mother's words. The mother left from a poor village, almost uneducated, but had a very liberal and wise outlook. She understood the nature and personality and trusted the children she gave birth to, nurturing them. The feeling of regret for my past mistake and my mother's love rose in my heart. My tears flowed. I cried because I loved my mother, because I regretted that I had made her sad and worried! I promised myself that I would always be a good child to repay my mother's love. Perhaps my mother's words that time have always been hidden in my mind. Then, throughout my life, I have been hungry and suffering many times because of poverty, but I did not and will never enter gambling, stealing, cheating and go to prison.
The next day, as every day, at noon Dad went home to eat, rested a little, and then went to work. We took care of finishing our schoolwork and then divided it up to help our mother with some errands in the house. When the afternoon sun had subsided, the children went out of the house to play with the neighbors' children. I'm preparing some toys. My mother approached me and told me that there were some important things she wanted to say to me. Of course, the pretense of sleeping last night helped me understand what my mother was going to say, but I still looked at her in surprise and sat down on the headphones.
After a few questions about my bruised whips from yesterday's beating. My mother said that she had discussed with my father that she would never beat us again from now on. He only helped with words, admonished when we made a mistake, and then it was up to us to think about right and wrong, and it was foolish. When it came to stealing my money recently, my mother said that my parents were also somewhat at fault. Just because I was too poor and didn't have enough money to provide me, I had to steal to have money for gifts because of lack and greed. She promised herself that she would try to save more or less and give us a little to eat gifts like us. However, my mother also hopes that our brothers understand and see the family situation clearly and sympathize with their parents if they do not get what they want.
When it comes to getting me into gambling. She considered it a mistake and was completely stupid and unforgivable and sympathetic. My mother advised me to look at the tragic examples that happened every day in the neighborhood with some of the families we knew very well. The husband and wife fought because of gambling and drinking. Our children and grandchildren dropped out of school, quit their jobs, stabbed their heads in red and black, followed us to steal, steal, destroy villages, and were arrested and arrested! My mother advised me to be wise and decisive to stay away from gambling in any form. Let's understand a very true thing that no one has ever been rich and glorious because of gambling. People who enter the spiral of gambling sooner or later fall into poverty and tragedy.
As for the fact that I have many times had actions or words that are not very pleasant to uncles, uncles, aunts... in my relatives, just because their children are crying, asking for my toys. Their parents did not stop those unreasonable demands, but also asked my father to make me give in to their children. She sympathized with my frustrations, seeing it as a form of exploitation. But my mother advised me to be wiser and calmer, such as trying to stay away or clean up and hide. If you need to run away so you don't lose your toy. But absolutely should not use harsh and chaotic words, especially with adults and their parents so that they have a reason to blame their parents. Make parents fall into an awkward situation.
In spite of my mother's waking words, I heard it very clearly late last night when I pretended to be asleep. But I was able to listen to my mother directly, in a low voice like the confidant and explanation of a friend. It is not imposing in the role of the superior to the subordinate, but just wants to help me see the facts of the problem with clarity. As for thinking right and wrong, being wise to accept or deny it, it is up to me to decide. It completely depends on my own nature and will to rise.
He seemed to feel my restoration. With a gentle smile, my mother gave me a hand and patted my shoulder a few times, asked me about the bruises caused by the recent whip on my body, and got up to go to the back of the house. But suddenly I remembered what my mother said again:
"There is one more important thing, perhaps I should tell you too. I also know that my family, my parents are hometown, poorly educated, so poor, unacquainted, avatar! With such circumstances and abilities, it is impossible to create a rich place to help your child. It's true! Parents only hope to be healthy forever, to work hard to make a living, and to raise their children to study with all their strength. Hopefully, you will learn to be talented and then rely on words and qualifications to advance as a person. People are rich and have a big family, their children and grandchildren may not need to study highly, they do not need to study well... but there is still a chance to rise in a certain field. But with your situation, I speak very truthfully. There is only one path to go up, to overcome difficulties and lack of luck... That is the path of education and degrees. With this path, you will at least have an entrance ticket to enter the game of finding a position and escape from adversity. Without that ticket, without wealth, without acquaintances, you will forever be an outsider, never think of the word success. But when it is there (through education), it will make you glorious and be a platform for your children and grandchildren, your future generations to escape from poverty. It's as simple as that.
After a pause, she continued:
"I have wanted to tell you this many times, but today I remembered and did it. I hope you think about it and never forget that unique path.
After speaking, my mother reached out and patted me on the shoulder again:
"Come on, go out and play with your friends in the neighborhood, remember to call them home for the right meal, lest your father make a house up there again!"
That's right, from that day on, Dad never hit our brothers again. The atmosphere of tension and fear in the family every time Dad was angry about some of our mistakes had completely disappeared. Instead, there is a joyful atmosphere of joking even though the family is still struggling because of deprivation. Time still passed coldly. I passed the entrance exam to Chu Van An, and in the sixth year (6th grade), my father had to change to the 22nd Infantry Division in Kontum, my mother was sick and sick... I really came into life to help my family. I sold newspapers and did whatever work I did as long as I had money to make a living (I don't have the courage to write here about the few times I've stepped out of the comfort zone of a person who lives a modest life in society. It was only because of my inadvertence or ignorance that I was entangled! But thanks to luck and awakening at the right time, especially remembering the words of my mother who woke up a long time ago, helped me escape at the right point of peace.)
My studies for 2 years when my father was away from his family to the 22nd Division at Kontum, went downhill tragically! It can be said that in 2 years of the sixth and fifth years, I was almost a student who was very close to the book! But when my father returned to Saigon, life gradually took a turn for the worse. My mother jumped into business, my studies and my siblings were revitalized. The lesson of the "unique path" that my mother taught me after my father's "near-death, lifeless" final blow has always followed me like a handbook in my memory and I always trust to follow.
Just like that, my footsteps gradually steadily spread on the path of education (just as my mother instructed). I passed all the high school and college competitions. I have been a very solid platform for the children and my family to stand up. My parents trusted and always followed my calculations. With any difficulties of my family, I am always the one who supports and is responsible for solving everything.
Then time, a very sincere but cold and sometimes cruel friend sent me away from the atmosphere of war, the haze of bombs and bullets in early 1974. I left Vietnam to practice abroad. On that day of leaving Vietnam, my friends went with me, everyone had dozens of people to see them off, to take them, with luxury cars.... And I was sad with only my parents and 2 younger siblings, silently seeing me off during the departure. (Actually, my whole life has only been very quiet breakups!). But I couldn't believe that the breakup was the last time my mother and I met. A separation that day, in my happiness, was accompanied by so many hopes with my mother's messages when parting with me. But sadly, it's a goodbye again! My mother and I saw each other one last time and were forever apart!
Time is still passing, that cruel friend, after decades of exile, I returned to Vietnam with many tears streaming down my eyes in the posture of a wandering tourist. I returned to Vietnam hoping to find traces of old memories. Sometimes, I would wander into some ancient villages alone. There are so many traces of my family in that place to look forward to reliving with the joys and bitterness of the past. This is 521 Le Van Duyet hamlet, this is 116 To Hien Thanh Tre hamlet with so many memories of a time of misery and poverty! Then with my motorbike, I ran around Saigon, Binh Tay Lon Market. Crossing into Cau Ong Lanh market heading to Khanh Hoi... All the places where my mother and I have been dragging for food many times. On any trip to Vietnam, I do so hoping to find the faint smell of old nostalgia. It seems that many times, I still smell the unpleasant smell of my mother's and my mother's sweat drops in the hard times of old. During the trips to carry vegetables and bananas for my mother to sell on the side of the road to make a living. I also don't forget, many times that hard day. I had the feeling that my shoulders were hunched down. My arm fell apart because of the weight of the banana chambers that weighed on me and my mother every time a freight truck from Long Khanh or the West stopped.
It's all over, time friend! The hardships and poverty have also passed! My mother died a long time ago! I am still present in our realm this smudged grandmother at the age of an old man in his 80s. Still diligent, diligently calculating to feed, saving like a swarm of ants. My whole life has probably only dreamed of living in peace forever and not having to suffer materially. If there is a little more, good health to provide for the romantic pleasure of a person who loves to immerse himself in literature and poetry? I do not and have never embraced the ambitions of a man who likes power in politics! Because it was very clear, I had absolutely no personality of a politician, a person who stood on the forum shouting, directing the crowd! I also don't enjoy climbing on top of other people's necks to enjoy it in peace! My dream is to be qualified, not worried and sad to wander here and there. If there is something (even a little) that people call "wet" in literature, poetry, and also in private life!
End of _____________________
A few lines at the end of the article: If you are interested in music, you probably know the song ANAK by Freddie Aguilar, an indigenous musician of the Philippines, this song that shook the world, written about motherhood. As soon as this song was released in 1978. If I'm not mistaken, it was ranked among the world's number one songs one year! Personally, in 1985, when I went to the Philippines, I heard this song performed by the author himself in a nightclub in a city in South Africa.
Then to Hawaii, Kenya, Madagasca... I have also heard this song many times performed by Filipino bands. In Vietnam, too, in a tea room near Phu Nhuan intersection, I was also presented this song by a Filipino band (I forgot the name of the tea room). Currently, this song has been translated into many languages and performed by singers of that language, including Vietnamese, but in my opinion, it doesn't sound very good!! But I have to say that listening to the author's own presentation is super, off the table! followed by listening to the Filipino music group Tan also "rock the ship"!
You listen and think about your mother?!!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xeAz5xnEPDILiu-An, Yu Yuruan(Zürich, Februar, 2018) Nếu muốn người khác được hạnh phúc, hãy thực tập từ bi. Nếu muốn chính mình được hạnh phúc, hãy thực tập từ bi.Đức Đạt-lai Lạt-ma XIV
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