Memories of those days

On the occasion of the Vietnamese Teachers' Day, 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 National University) about the memories of 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 first years of my teaching career, living in the affectionate and loving atmosphere of brothers and sisters in the family of the Foreign Language Department of Hanoi National University in the evacuation area of ​​Van Tho - Dai Tu, Thai Nguyen, have left me with many unforgettable memories. The following funny stories, which seem to have happened just a few days or weeks ago, are called retrospectives so that today's young people can see our lives more than 40 years ago during the war against America:

Carry each other to school

We lived in a teachers' dormitory on the edge of an old forest. It was called a dormitory but in reality there were only two thatched huts made from sticks and leaves that we had collected from the forest to shelter us from the sun and rain: one was for the older teachers who had families like Mr. Thuong, Mr. Quan, Mr. Thep..., the other was for the young teachers who did not have families like Mr. Lung, Cong Anh, Ms. Anh, Ms. Thu... (These are teachers of the Foreign Language Department, University of General Sciences from 1956-1978).That morning, there were only about 20 minutes left until class time, from where we lived to the classroom was about 500m. Last night it rained heavily, the water around the house was white, walking had to roll up the pants above the knees, to get to class had to wade across a stream. Normally, the stream was only about 20m wide, the water was 20 to 40cm deep. Suddenly this morning, after the rain last night, the water rose, the stream became wide and waist-deep, the water flowed rapidly. When we reached the stream bank, everyone was hesitating: “Why skip class??”. Words of Kon Tum principal (Professor Nguyen Nhu Kon Tum was the Principal of the University from 1956 to 1982.) echoed in my ears: “School discipline in class is like battlefield discipline on the front line!”. There are 10 minutes left until the bell rings to start class. Suddenly, teacher Thu shouted: “Mr. Thang piloted, led Mr. Lung to carry Ms. Anh, Cong Anh carried me, we went to battle, as ordered."So the "combat" plan was formed. I waded in first, walked in the middle, held Lung's right hand on his shoulder carrying Anh, and held Cong Anh's left hand on his shoulder carrying Thu. So we crossed the stream safely. During class that day, although the teachers' pants were soaked, they were very clean, still smelling of the stream water mixed with the flowers and leaves of the forest. Several lessons took place in an intimate and admiring atmosphere of the students. One student said emotionally: "We thought the teachers couldn't cross the stream and let us stay home from school.". Ms. Thu took the opportunity: "What is a vacation? School discipline, evacuation to teach as well as to fight on the front line, to contribute to defeating the American invaders.”. That lesson left a special impression on the students and us with the spirit of “all for dear students”.Male buffalo herdImagine, living in the evacuation area for a year, only being able to return to Hanoi twice: Tet and summer vacation. How to return? Cycling 60-70 km, through forests and streams at night to reach Quan Trieu station at 3am to catch the express train back to Hanoi. That year, we were able to return to Hanoi for Tet. Having been away from home for half a year, now being able to return for Tet, everyone was excited. We set off at 9pm (didn’t dare to travel during the day for fear of enemy planes), cycling for 4-5 hours straight, although everyone was in their 30s, everyone was exhausted. There was a teacher named Thu, a thin, frail person, who grumbled: “I'm so tired, I ask the group leader to let me rest, I can't pedal anymore.”. Teacher Thep, the group leader, ordered: “Camp, rest”. Getting off the bus, everyone spread out plastic sheets to lie down in the middle of the forest. Although it was the end of December, the weather was clear and not too cold, and besides, cycling made us sweat. After riding for so long in the night, our eyes got used to it, so we could still see people’s faces clearly. Ms. Thu’s voice was still worried: “Lying in the middle of the forest at night, if a tiger or wolf comes out and bites you, you will lose your Tet.”. Being a vigilant person, and having been a cadet as a child, Teacher Thep had a lot of “battlefield” experience and immediately came up with a plan. He said, before presenting the plan, let me tell you a story: “Herds of wild buffalo in Africa are often attacked by tigers that eat their young, so when the herd rests at night, the big, strong males often lie around to protect the young and female buffaloes....”. Seizing the opportunity, Miss Thu (Thu was a smart and clever person, always on the defensive) laughed shrilly, her laughter dispelling everyone's fatigue, on the last night of December, in the middle of the deep forest: “There are four male buffaloes here, the strongest is the Steel buffalo, then the Thang buffalo, the Long buffalo,...”. It was the class monitor's turn to present a plan: “We set up 2 encirclements, the outer circle was 6 bicycles, lined up in a circle, the inner circle was 4 bodyguards surrounding the 2 female teachers.”. The plan was formed, everyone felt secure and rested peacefully in the last night of December, the sound of insects echoed, evoking the bustling atmosphere in the Capital waiting for the children who had gone far away to return. Everyone’s face was radiant because the fatigue had been dispelled and because the train to Hanoi was blowing its whistle into the station.

Catch frogs at night

Dear friends, nowadays the "special frog" dish that you often enjoy at restaurants is very expensive, right? It is called a specialty but it is farmed frog, grows quickly, the meat is not as delicious and nutritious as frogs living in the wild, they only hunt for food in the fields, so each frog is fat and yellow, smooth skin, soft bones. Frog legs are marinated with lemongrass, chili, salt, lemon, and basil, steamed, there is nothing more delicious and interesting. Especially the frog stir-fried with bamboo shoots, stir-fried with squash is a national, traditional dish, great to eat with beer. Writing here, I swallow my saliva again, remembering the story of more than 40 years ago when I went with Mr. Cong Anh to catch frogs at night in the evacuation area. Usually, whenever it rained heavily, that night we would catch a few kilos of frogs to improve. Catching frogs at night is very interesting, like hunting. The frog's characteristic is that at night, when it sees a light, its two front legs cover its eyes. So the frog hunter just gently uses his hand to put on its back, grab the frog and put it in the basket. Heavy rain, then drizzle, frogs broke out of their nests and went out to look for food, calling for mates. Because they had been in their nests for so long and were now able to go out, perhaps the frogs were excited and "high-spirited" and called out to each other loudly: "croaking, croaking, croaking, croaking" all over the field. Just following that call (as they call people who are looking for frogs) is the right way to find prey. Because when they croak, their white bellies are exposed under the torchlight. Mr. Cong Anh held the torch, I held the basket and just picked up the frogs. There were so many frogs that I only wanted to catch the big ones, the small ones were not worth it and not tasty. The most interesting thing was catching "slow frogs" (female carrying the male). When the male lay on the female's back, both of them made sounds: the male croaked, the female croaked... The sound of frogs mixed with the sound of insects was like a pleasant melody. When you hear the loving duet of croaking and croaking somewhere, you know right away that there is a pair of lovebirds dating. No matter how fast or strong the frog hunter is, the “slow frogs” will not leave each other because they are engrossed in their own private affairs according to the laws of nature, in the bedroom in the middle of nature, on a rainy night, under torchlight, so catching them is very easy. Uncle Cong Anh, who was using the torchlight, discovered them first and shouted at me: “Let me, catching frogs at night is so fun.". I am willing to let Mr. Cong Anh take the credit for catching the "slow frog" and bring it home to make sweet and sour pickles - steamed, for the whole group to drink together.

Chicken soup

There is a proverb: “one coin for chicken, three coins for rice”. Is it true that raising a chicken worth one coin means spending three coins to buy rice to feed it? I was wondering about this. To test it, I went into the village and bought a young hen. Every day I called the hen to the edge of the forest with a hoe. After just a few strokes, the hen could not eat all the worms. The earthworms were as big as chopsticks, wriggling and struggling after the hoe strokes, the earth was lifted up. When the worms crawled out, the young hen pecked at them. Just like that, every morning and evening, whenever I had free time, it only took 5-10 minutes for the chicken to have enough to feast on the earthworm crop. My young hen grew up very quickly, with golden feathers, bright red crest, smooth like a crab hen. Whenever she saw me holding a hoe, I called her “tich tich” because she was wandering around, she would cluck and fly after me to pick up food. After 2 weeks, 3 weeks, then 5, 6 weeks, Vang Choai probably weighed nearly 2kg. Choai walked sluggishly, his attitude was unusual, he often dug holes in the sand, and there were days when Choai lay down to rest for hours in the sand hole, not eating as well as usual. I was thinking of calling the vet to ask about Choai's condition when... That afternoon, while I was sleeping, I was startled by the sound of Choai's shrill quacking. I jumped up and went out to the yard, in front of me, next to the sand pile, there was a hole as smooth as a pan. In the middle of the hole, there was a round, oval object, white, bright pink, smooth, dotted with a streak of "blood" that made me startled, unable to believe my eyes. Choai stood next to me, still quacking, softly, gradually less, as if announcing news: "Eggs, eggs! Pay back the worm digger”. It turns out that in the past few days, Choai has been in labor, and has now given birth to a “nutritious” object - a fresh chicken egg. Just like that, every day I received a fresh chicken egg for 3 months, a total of nearly 90 eggs. Actually, this is a rare record produced by my Choai. Some people say that the cool climate in the mountains, the chickens eat earthworms with a lot of protein and calcium, so they lay a lot. Choai laid so many that Mr. Lung (who is a humorous person) told me: “Mr. Thang has a good hand, raising a fertile wife and fertile chickens.”. Seeing that I was lucky in raising chickens, everyone also went to the market to buy chickens to raise. Disaster struck! Buying rotten chickens at the market... Then the neighbor's flock of over 100 chickens suddenly died. He forced the teachers to pay compensation for buying rotten chickens at the market to raise his chickens. So for more than a month, the neighbor forced us to eat chickens (of course the chickens were not completely dead and we had to pay him). As a result, the teachers had to "pay for chicken meat". And my "golden wife" also suffered the same fate. Since then, I have not raised chickens anymore so I have not been able to eat fresh chicken eggs. But we have proven that it is not "one money for chicken, three money for rice" but "one capital, four profits". Dear friends! Reminiscing about the past is an eternal thing of all times, so that the present generation knows about the past and so that the ancients can recall the past. Writing here, I remember two colleagues, Mr. Thep and Ms. Thu, who were not as lucky as us sitting here enjoying. The good results after many years of evacuation and hard work in the resistance war. So I respectfully bow to the souls of the two of you with a stick of incense. As for my former colleagues, Mr. Quan, Mr. Lung, Cong Anh, Ms. Anh, if I see any mistakes in this article, I sincerely apologize. It is also a happy thing to sit down and meet with you to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the establishment of the foreign language unit of our beloved University.