Up the mountain, down the sea, out to the river...

The author of the article during a reporting trip to Sinh Ton floating island (Truong Sa archipelago) in 2020. In the distance is ship HQ-561. Photo: PHUONG GIANG

The beauty of the great forest

Every time I go back to the mountains, I am lucky to be loved, so that every time I pass by a forest somewhere, I feel like I am returning to a distant date.

More than ten years ago, I had the opportunity to pass through the top of Kon Bin - a village of the Xe Dang people, precariously located between the land and sky of Ngoc Linh. The scenery was like a painting. I walked across green grasslands, across terraced fields sparkling in the sunlight.

And below, there was a sea of floating clouds. Not yet on the tourist map, but Kon Bin at that time was stunningly beautiful, as if bestowing a special privilege on the traveler who followed many stories. Hesitant between the sky and the clouds, between the green mountains and the wind of the forest, anchoring the love of the faraway guest to stay...

Another time, after trekking through the forest for more than 6 hours to reach Aur village (A Vuong, Tay Giang), following a unique trail, we entered a fairy tale village. The village was so clean. Even the stream running through the middle of the village was crystal clear, like the eyes and smiles of the children peeking out from mirrors to look at strangers.

Appearing among the deep green forest canopy, after the early morning mist, the sunlight slowly sparkling through the leaves, Aur appeared with the mysterious beauty of a village hidden deep in the old forest, completely separated from the noise of everyday life. And what we remember most in the journey, is the open-heartedness of the villagers.

We arrived there, had a night of drunkenness from drinking rice wine and singing of the highlanders. In the middle of the forest, the lyrical verses “O... o... o... Azô achoông...” echoed like the wind passing through the mountain crevices, like streams flowing over rocks, turning each page of legend. An unmistakable beauty of the great forest.

Beautiful from the clear eyes of the children, beautiful from the smoke rising up towards the kitchen of the stilt house, and beautiful like the way the highlanders have survived together, together created the crescent-shaped villages hidden in the middle of the old forest, resilient and sturdy...

Emotions from human fate...

If the mountains and forests are like a hidden place hiding many legends, then the ocean opens up a horizon of freedom.

Reporters working before boarding the train to Truong Sa. Photo: PHUONG GIANG

During my trips with fishermen on thousands of waves, I encountered very different lives and people. They lived in love with the sea, in the desire to roam and conquer, in the bravery and steadfastness before the storm.

On the squid fishing ship QNa-90361, I was lucky to accompany Captain Bui Van Tri (Tam Tien, Nui Thanh) on a voyage out to sea.

From the beach, the boat cut through the waves, the sea breeze and sunlight hit our faces and bodies, dyeing our skin and creating the clear, stormy voices of the fishermen. At night, the sea was deep blue, we sat with the fishermen fishing for squid while waiting for the catch. The squid were fresh, transparent, flashing under the lights, cooked with instant noodles but tasted better than any other specialty on the mainland.

There, we heard the story of Captain Bui Van Tri and the fishermen of Tam Tien beach, told by them about their love for the sea, about the feeling of freedom in the vast waves and the ups and downs of life and death. Their stories not only brought back emotions, but also were precious fresh water, watering the pride of the territory, the love for the sacred sovereignty of the Fatherland in the vast sea and sky.

Another time, I had a 19-day trip to the farthest islands of the Truong Sa archipelago - the flesh and blood of the Fatherland. I stood for a long time with the young soldier on the submerged island of Len Dao, listening to him standing beside a small bougainvillea tree, wistfully talking about the bougainvillea tree blooming at his lover's house on the mainland. The pots of bougainvillea blooming brightly on the island, despite the harshness, like a string that holds the homeland, like the young soldier's steadfast belief: this place has never been separated from the flesh and blood mainland...

Somewhere on a rainy day in Hoi An, we sat very late in the middle of the Hoai River, on the small boat of Mr. Toi and Mrs. Xong, an old couple over 80 years old who make a living on the small river.

The smile on Mrs. Xong's wrinkled face was captured by photographer Réhahn, bringing her a prestigious international award, and also a new boat, a gift from Réhahn to the two old people.

She chewed betel, he puffed out cigarette smoke, the couple quietly told stories of life on the river. Their whole lives were attached to the river, from fishing, raising nets to rowing boats to ferry passengers, regardless of rain or shine, winter or summer... Their stories were also stories of life on the street, life on the river, stories of people who were up and down but at peace in simple joy.

Every land we passed, every person we met, quietly added to many stories. There were stories we told, stories we only shared outside the newspaper, and things we had to keep hidden, but in the end, we were still grateful for the emotions of each trip. So that we could live in every moment, so that each journey was a time of gratitude, a reminder. That there were many new things waiting for our footsteps ahead...

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/len-rung-xuong-bien-ra-song-3157081.html