The Identity of a Rainy Land (Photo from personal Facebook page of Le Vu Truong Giang)
Talking about his newly born "spiritual child", the writer born in 1988, currently working at Song Huong Magazine, confided: "The rain of this land is enchanting and full of mysteries ... I was born in the rainy season. I opened my eyes and saw the rain. Rain came into the lullaby. Rain rocked my cradle. Rain seeped through my mother's hat. Rain fell on the wet grass path. Rain took me to school. Rain followed my father into the mountain. Rain wet my childhood. Rain nourished my youth". From there, the rain "created memories under the roof, in the small lane, in the park, in the schoolyard, by the river bank ...".
Reading these memories, we will see that the "rural" nature is prominent. Having been born in the village, growing up in the village, living in the village and writing in the village have made the author's voice honest, emotional and thoughtful.
The most special is the spring rain. The memories of spring rainy days and of the father who passed away are very moving: "My father told me that in the spring if there were no drizzling rain in the sun, spring would have lost half of its charm... In those days, he sat on the porch and enjoyed tea, watching the rain fly in the sunlight. His cigarette smoke floated amidst life's dreams”.
The rain in "The identity of a rainy land" is also the rain through the heritage region: "Passing Truong Tien Bridge on those Lunar December days, the rain poured. The river and the rain became one. The bridge spans became smaller, shrinking in the pouring rain. The rain was fragrant on the street. The rain fell on a maiden’s beautiful hair. When spring arrived, driving on the streets of the Citadel, the drizzling rain fell on the bulwarks, on early yellow apricot blossoms in front of Phu Van Lau”.
And: "This afternoon, on Vong Canh Hill, I stood watching the rain between the lonely pine trees. The clear rain covered the flat surface of the river, creating ripples like the doubts that drop into the nonstop-dreaming youth”.
Hue rain is associated with Hue typhoon and flood, which are deep memories: "I still clearly remember the number 2 storm in 1995. Rain fell heavy at night. It was screaming. I woke up to see a part of the ceiling shining. A corner of the roof was blown away. When I stepped out onto the porch, everything was empty. The saddest thing was the vast trellis of wax squash and bitter melon collapsing. The Cat Dang flower trusses also writhed beneath the porch, paled in the water”.
“The 1999 rainy season was the tragic Flood of Hue. That year, I was in middle school and renting a room on the other side of Dap Da. I heard the pouring rain continuing days on end. The rain was no longer fragrant. It made me feel uneasy. It pushed my homeland into darkness. It kept on raining. The rain didn’t stop. Water flooded the streets. The crops were destroyed. Houses were carried away into the sea. The most extreme was the news that in Hoa Duan village, hundreds of households were washed away by the rain. The rain came with heartache. Sad rain fell on top of white flowers. In those years, Tet holiday came in gloom.
However, rain is natural and people always need it to survive. So, "no one blames the rain. Rain is the gift of the land for the past hundreds of years”. The rain is also an endless topic of art: "Rain in poetry, rain on music sheets, rain in paintings...".
The rain is also a vague memory of love: "The image of lovers cycling through a small road while rain fluttering under the golden light is a very beautiful one”. As if confessing a deep secret, the author confided: "At night, listening to the rain falling on the leaves, my heart longs for someone...".
Story and photo: Nguyen Van Toan