Nostalgia for those times

To commemorate Vietnamese Teachers' Day on November 20, 2008, the website of the University of Social Sciences and Humanities would like to introduce the memoirs of teacher Nguyen Phu Thang (French teacher of the Foreign Language Department - Hanoi University) about the memories of teachers living and teaching during the war years. [img class="caption" src="images/stories/people/nguyenphuthang.jpg" border="0" alt="Author Nguyen Phu Thang" title="Author Nguyen Phu Thang" width="80" height="112" align="left" ] For nearly half a century, the early years of my teaching career, living in the affectionate and close family atmosphere of the Foreign Language Department of Hanoi University at the Van Tho - Dai Tu evacuation area in Thai Nguyen, have left me with many unforgettable memories. The following amusing stories, which seem like they happened just a few days or weeks ago, are a recollection of the past so that young people today can see what our lives were like more than 40 years ago during the war against America:

Carrying each other to school.

We lived in a teachers' housing complex on the edge of an old forest. It was called a housing complex, but in reality, there were only two thatched huts that we ourselves had gathered from the forest to provide shelter from the sun and rain: one for the older teachers with families, like Mr. Thuong, Mr. Quan, Mr. Thep..., and the other for the younger, unmarried teachers, like Mr. Lung, Mr. Cong Anh, Ms. Anh, Ms. Thu...These were the teachers of the Foreign Language Department, University of Hanoi, from 1956 to 1978.That morning, there were only about 20 minutes left until class started. The distance from our house to the classroom was about 500 meters. Last night, it had rained heavily, and the area around our house was completely flooded. We had to roll up our trousers above our knees to get to class, and we had to wade through a stream. Normally, the stream is only about 20 meters wide and 20 to 40 centimeters deep. But this morning, after last night's rain, the water level had risen, making the stream wide and deep, with a strong current. At the stream bank, everyone hesitated:Should we skip class??"Words from the principal of Kon Tum (Professor Nguy Nhu Kon Tum was the Rector of the University of Hanoi from 1956 to 1982.) echoed in my ears:School discipline in the classroom is like battlefield discipline on the front lines!"There are only 10 minutes left until the bell rings for class. Suddenly, Teacher Thu shouted: "Mr. Thang, the pilot, led Mr. Lung, who carried Ms. Anh, and Cong Anh carried me. We're going into battle, as ordered."So the 'battle plan' was formed. I waded in first, walking in the middle, holding Lung's hand while carrying Anh on my shoulder, and holding Cong Anh's hand while carrying Thu on my left. We crossed the stream safely and successfully. That day, although the teachers' trousers were soaking wet, they were very clean, still retaining the fragrant scent of the stream water mixed with forest flowers and leaves. The lessons took place in a friendly atmosphere, filled with admiration from the students. One student said emotionally:We thought the teachers wouldn't be able to cross the stream, so they'd let us stay home from school.Ms. Thu was able to say:What kind of break is that? It's school discipline. Evacuation for teaching is like going to fight on the front lines, to contribute to defeating the American enemy."That lesson left a particularly touching impression on the students and on us, with its spirit of 'all for our beloved students'."Male buffaloesImagine, a year living in an evacuation zone, only allowed to return to Hanoi twice: during Lunar New Year and summer vacation. How did we get there? We cycled 60-70 km, through forests and streams at night to reach Quan Trieu station at 3 am to catch the express train to Hanoi. That year, we got to go back to Hanoi for Tet. Having been away from home for half a year, everyone was excited to finally be back for Tet. We set off at 9 pm (we didn't dare go during the day for fear of enemy planes), cycling for 4-5 hours straight. Although everyone was around 30 years old, we were all exhausted. Teacher Thu, a frail and thin woman, grumbled:I'm too tired, I request a break from the group leader, I can't pedal anymore.Teacher Thép, the group leader, gave the order:Set up camp, rest."Getting out of the car, everyone spread out plastic sheets and lay down in the middle of the forest. Although it was the end of December, the sky was clear and not too cold, and besides, cycling had made us sweat. Having cycled for so long in the night, our eyesight had become accustomed to it, so we could still clearly see each other's faces. Ms. Thu's worried voice continued: "Sleeping in the middle of the forest at night, if a tiger or wolf attacks and bites you, your Tet holiday will be ruined."Being a cautious person, and having been a cadet in his youth, Teacher Thép had a lot of 'battlefield' experience, so he immediately came up with a plan. He said, 'Before I present my plan, let me tell you a story:'"In Africa, wild buffalo herds are often preyed upon by tigers, especially the young ones. Therefore, when a herd rests for the night, the large, strong males usually lie around to protect the young and female buffaloes."...Seizing the opportunity, Thu (Thu, being intelligent and quick-witted, always kept a defensive stance) let out a shrill laugh, her laughter dispelling everyone's weariness, in the dead of night in December, deep in the forest:There are four male buffaloes here already, the strongest is Thép buffalo, then Thăng buffalo, and Long buffalo....". Then it was the turn of the Steel class leader to propose a plan: "We formed two encirclements, protecting the women: the outer circle consisted of six bicycles lined up in a circle, and the inner circle had four bodyguards surrounding the two teachers."The plan was finalized, and everyone rested peacefully on the night of the last week of December, the sounds of insects echoing the bustling atmosphere of the capital awaiting the return of its children who had been away. Everyone's face was radiant, their fatigue dispelled and the train to Hanoi sounding its whistle as it pulled into the station."

Catching frogs at night

Dear friends, nowadays, the "frog delicacy" you frequently enjoy in restaurants is quite expensive! It's called a delicacy, but it's farmed frogs, which grow quickly, and their meat isn't as flavorful and nutritious as wild frogs. They only forage in the fields, so each one is plump, golden, with smooth skin and soft bones. Frog legs marinated in lemongrass, chili, salt, lime, and basil, then steamed, are incredibly delicious. Especially the frog stir-fried with bamboo shoots or zucchini, a traditional dish, is fantastic with beer. Writing this makes my mouth water, remembering an old story from over 40 years ago when I went frog hunting at night with Uncle Cong Anh in the evacuation area. Usually, whenever it rained heavily, we'd catch a few kilograms of wild frogs that night to improve our meals. Night frog hunting was as exciting as hunting. A characteristic of frogs is that in the dark, they cover their eyes with their front legs. So, the frog hunter could easily use their hand to grab the frog and put it in a basket. It rained heavily, then it drizzled, and the frogs broke out of their nests to forage for food and call for mates. Having been in their nests for so long, they were probably excited to be out, croaking and calling to each other loudly: "Oop op, uom uom" all over the field. Following those calls (as they called to frog hunters) led to the easy hunt. When they croaked, their white bellies were exposed under the torchlight. Uncle Cong Anh held the torch, and I held the basket; all we had to do was pick the frogs. There were so many that we only wanted to catch the big ones; the small ones weren't worth it, they weren't tasty. The most fun was catching "female frogs carrying male frogs." When the male lay on the female's back, both croaked: the male "op op," the female "uom uom"... The frog calls mingled with the insect sounds like a cheerful melody. When you heard the "op op, uom" duet somewhere, you knew immediately that a pair of lovebirds were meeting. No matter how fast or how strong the frog hunter's legs and arms were, the frogs wouldn't leave each other because they were busy with their own private affairs, following the laws of nature, in their natural sanctuary, in the rainy night, under the torchlight, making them easy to catch. Uncle Cong Anh, shining his torch, spotted them first and yelled at me:Let me handle this, catching frogs at night like this is really fun."I'm willing to let Mr. Cong Anh take credit for catching the 'frog' and bringing it back to make sweet and sour marinated frogs – steamed – for the whole team to enjoy."

Chicken meat disaster

There's a saying: "One coin for a chicken, three coins for rice." Does that mean that raising a chicken worth one coin costs three coins to feed it? I kept wondering about this. To test it, I went into the village and bought a young hen. Every day I called the hen out to the edge of the forest with a hoe. In just a few strokes, the hen couldn't eat all the worms. The earthworms were as big as chopsticks, wriggling and squirming as the hoe kicked up the soil. The worms crawled out and the young hen pecked at them. And so it went, morning and evening, whenever I had time, in just 5-10 minutes the hen had a feast of earthworms. My young hen grew incredibly fast, her feathers golden and her comb bright red, as smooth as a young hen. Whenever she saw me holding the hoe and calling out, the young hen, wherever she was playing, would chirp and fly after me to pick up the food. After two weeks, three weeks, then five, six weeks, Vang Choai probably weighed almost 2kg. Choai moved sluggishly, his behavior was unusual, he often dug holes in the sand, and some days he would lie down for hours in the sand pit, not eating as enthusiastically as usual. I was thinking of calling a veterinarian to ask about Choai's condition when... That afternoon, I was sleeping when I was startled by Choai's shrill quacking. I jumped up and went to the yard. In front of me, by the sand pile, was a smooth hole like the bottom of a pan. In the middle of the hole, a round, oval object, pure white, fresh pink, smooth, with a streak of "peach-colored blood," shocked me; I couldn't believe my eyes. Choai stood beside it, still quacking softly, then less and less, as if announcing:Those are the eggs, those are the eggs! A way of repaying the worm diggers."It turned out that over the past few days, Choai had gone into labor and had given birth to a 'nutritious' object - a fresh chicken egg. And so, every day for three months straight, I received a fresh chicken egg, totaling nearly 90 eggs. Actually, it's a rare record produced by my Choai. Some people say the cool mountain climate, combined with the chickens eating earthworms rich in protein and calcium, makes them lay so many eggs. Choai laid so many eggs that Teacher Lung (a humorous person) told me:Mr. Thang has a knack for raising livestock; his wife is fertile, and his chickens lay abundant eggs."Seeing how well I raised chickens, everyone else went to the market to buy chickens to raise. Then disaster struck! They bought sick chickens at the market... As a result, my neighbor's flock of around 100 chickens all died. He demanded compensation from the teachers for the sick chickens they bought, which then spread to his flock. For over a month, my neighbor made us eat chicken meat (of course, the chickens weren't completely dead yet, and we had to pay him). So, the teachers had to suffer the 'chicken meat' curse. And my 'little golden girl' suffered the same fate. Since then, I haven't raised chickens anymore, so I haven't had fresh eggs. But we proved that it's not 'one chicken, three grains' (meaning it's a lot of money), but 'one investment, four times the profit' (meaning it's a lot of money). My dear friends! Recalling the past is a timeless activity, allowing the present to know about the past and for the past to reminisce. Writing this, I remember two colleagues, Mr. Thép and Ms. Thư, who weren't as fortunate as we are to be here enjoying this." These are the wonderful achievements after years of arduous evacuation and participation in the resistance. Therefore, I respectfully bow my head in remembrance of the spirits of my two friends with a heartfelt incense offering. And to my former colleagues, Professor Quan, Professor Lung, Cong Anh, and Ms. Anh, if you find any oversight in this article, I sincerely apologize. It's also a joyful occasion to gather with you all to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the founding of our beloved Foreign Language Department at the University of Hanoi.