Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
Brief biography: Birth name: Nguyen Thi Ngoc Yen, born on November 7, 1982. Hometown: Nam Dinh City. Permanent residence: Group 5, Dong Tam ward, Yen Bai city. Currently working at: Yen Bai Culture and Arts Association, Vice Chairman of the Association, Editor-in-Chief of Yen Bai Arts Magazine.
Main published literature works:
+ Far season, Collection of Short Stories, 2015;
+ Past Footprints, Assay, 2018;
+ Loving Zone, Memoir, 2021;
+ Wooden Wall, Collection of Short Stories, 2021.
Literature Award: She got many literature awards including First, Second prizes and A, B, C awards and many other awards.
Short story
Loving zone (By Ngoc Yen)
When was a kid, every time having a summer vacation, I was eager to prepare my clothes going to the homeland. Mentioned about the homeland, however actually just went to my aunt’s house where far away from my house only ten kilometers. The homeland, where my aunt was adopted since the evacuation time.
Grandmother died from a bomb, grandfather remarried, she stayed there since then. She did not get married, not because no one asked for, but partly because of her adoptive mother died early, seven younger children had no one to take care of, and partly because her adoptive father tried to find excuses to refuse so many times.
She was both a sister and a mother, witnessed each of younger child to get married, then give births. Every time visited, I had to share her with the younger children over there. Everyone wanted to sleep with Aunt Hoa, so I had to be alone because I was older than them. On the days they didn’t come, I could lie next to her and listen to her stories while wave the bamboo fan, look at the starry sky, and feel as if I was in a fairy tale. I snuggled my head in her long black hair that she had to stand on a chair every time washing. I remembered the afternoons sitting under the jackfruit tree, waited for her to dry the hair that felt the whole garden of grapefruit blossom and ocimum tenuiflorum.
Every time looking at her damaged left eye, I suddenly feel so sad. Mother told me, in the past, it was difficult, the aunt studied little but worked a lot, always she fell asleep in the class. Once, while listened to a lecture, she dropped her eyes on the table, unfortunately her left eye pierced into a pen nib. The next day, the pain was so bad that she had to leave school, however the housework was still not postponed. Two days and three days, her eyes were puffy like a fist, the whole village told her to see a doctor from the district. In the morning granfather took her to see a dortor, in the afternoon, the two were still together, but her left eye had been left on the district since that afternoon.
I commiserate her. Her youth rushed by worries and hardships. She did not know a man even once. All the love, she put into us, the children.
Every day, from early morning, she quietly awakes up to take dirty clothes of her nieces and nephews to wash at the pond, then carry them to the filtered well, fill a basin, wash again and dry, that’s why, even if going to the homeland, my clothes are always clean and fragrant. Then she opens the kitchen, carries a bag and walks to the market. The market is more than a kilometer far from home. Her shape is agile, her purple dress, white hat undulating in the morning sunshine.
When I wake up, she had already gone to the field, only two sugar-coated donuts were left in a green enameled plate or some steamed rice roll cakes on the table. After breakfast, I hang at the garden to pick few green vegetables, wander around to the pond to pick up some guava, and wait for her to return.
When was young, I didn’t understand that farm works was tiring, just was happy when seeing her return. And I was rushing to urge her to cook meal because I was too hungry that I couldn’t see the sweat dripping on her red face. She just laughed “Are you hungry” and then hurriedly prepared the meal. I did not understand because the delicious food in the countryside or because she cooked well, but every meal I ate two full bowls of rice and still wanted to eat more.
After finished the meal, she hurriedly carried the tray to the well washing. Sometimes she hadn’t finished works, but my eyes were closed for sleeping. The sleep came so fast that I didn’t even have time to put both feet on the bed. My body was solid and roand like a jackfruit seed, and she was hard to take me on the bed. The children always loved to go to Aunt Hoa, because for us, she was number one. She loved all of us with unconditional love.
During my childhood, I received her love as a special gift every summer. Until entering the the university and then went to work, my visit to her was reduced. For me, the days with her will become nice memories with love.
Nowadays my aunt is already old, her hair has lost a lot as a ponytail. My granfather is so old, weak, and deaf, so he just is around at home. The farm work she manages alone. Her body dries over the time. Legs and arms become weak. She doesn’t know how to ride a motorbike, every time she wants to visit my parents, she has to ask the children to take there. Looking at her, sometimes I secretly think, now she is just a child…
Commiserating her, my parents want her to stay with, however she definitely wouldn’t listen, saying that she is used to living in the countryside, now she can’t live in the city. Thinking about when she becomes older, grandfather would be gone, the children go to work far away, leaving only her in the empty house… I am silent that don’t want to think more about it.
In last Lunar New Year, I went to visit her. The place where the jackfruit tree that she and I used to sit and cool off every afternoon now remain only roots. The two luxuriant longan trees in front of the door are also dying. To see me lamented and regretful, she only smiled: “The jackfruit tree was damaged and people asked to take and make the altar. The longan tree was more than 60 years old. It is time to return to the soil…”
The law of life, even though I know that, I still feel badly sad, as if the soul of the house is lost. Looking at my aunt, her head covered by white hair, my heart rolls up like a thousand waves coming up…
