Bui Nhu Lan
Bui Thi Nhu Lan, having Bachelor’s Degree, was born in 1967. Based in Thinh Dan ward, Thai Nguyen city, she belongs to Tay community, the Central Tai-speaking ethnic group who live in northern Vietnam. She is member of Vietnam Writers’ Association, Literature and Arts Association of Vietnamese Ethnic Minorities and Member of Literature and Art Association of Thai Nguyen Province. Her 12 literature works have been published so far and has won 14 different literature awards.
Chrysanthemum camellia
Short story by Bui Nhu Lan
(Translated into English by Khanh Phuong)
Early morning in spring, it is full of flying dew. The dew entwines in floating clouds and mountains. But I don’t know if it is dew, cloud, or drizzle. Every pure white cluster plays around on high and low mountains and then wonders to the villages. It seems that in the gentle spring wind, the lightly scent of bloomed peach, plum and pear flowers and the ethereal taste of bloomed chrysanthemum camellia calling for the Lunar New Year.
Dear you, on the occasion of the Lunar New Year, layers of Chrysanthemum camellia, which the mountain people called the “yellow flower tea”, after many months accumulated the essence of mountain air, forest land, sky, sunshine … now it bursts the sweet color. The buds are shy among the eyes of dark green leaves, brilliantly blooming under the dew, calling the collectors, making me to miss you very much.
The space is yellowish joy, full of fragrance. There is a soft, gentle sound the spring wind carrying the lightly flying pollen. Oh look! From the endless ethereal and elegant yellow color, countless beautiful round dew eyes perch on petals, joyfully welcome spring. Suddenly my soul is joyful, full of emotion, like the day I was overwhelmed by your hypnotic look.
Emotionally I remembered. In the spring morning of last year, next to the ancient yellow flower tea tree, in the endless pollen, among thousands of sparkling dew eyes, I was the first time passionate, overwhelmed by your passionate kisses. I confused to be melted in your open arms, shining smile. You lifted me up, turned with the flying yellow flower color. Just like that, until the two of us laughed loud and rolled. You lifted me up and then gently drifted, immersed, wet … among the dewed grass.
Nowadays, in my sweet soft sub-consciousness, I’m still surprised hardly believing that I have the happy fate in love. My childhood was spent in the guilt of two words “without father”. My birth certificate doesn’t include my father’s name on it. He is a mystery in my life.
A small blood-drop of mine, an orphaned child, was the fruit of adversity. I don’t understand why my mother exchanged her honor to have me, and then got bad reputation for whole life? My mother has a pain in the heart that is hard to speak out that I have never dared to ask. I’m afraid to touch her pain…
I grew up in her sad lullaby. At night, in the place of High Mountain, my mother hugged me without stopping a heavy sigh. I innocently rested my head on mother’s tear-soaked arm and slept well. Mother’s life is like a thin quiet crescent moon. I grew up with her calloused wound. Mother received the pain of a human life, endlessly hoped with a full and open life for me…
***
Afternoon Eva. The pot of sticky rice cakes simmers on the fired three-legged stove. Mother put a food tray on the altar and burned incense. The mother’s gentle, round white face is silent and thoughtful. Mother prays to the forest god, ancestors… but it seems that she confides. So strange! Mother’s voice is soft, steady, waving in the non-stop fire. My stomach curls up. I nestle closely to mother in the fragrant spreading incense.
Mother gently takes my hands, warms it in her palms. Mother’s eyes blinkers slightly, fills with tears, she says: “Dear Xuan, tomorrow the first day of the Lunar New Year, you will turn twenty-four, the girl who holds The Cat.” I smile softly, rub my head on mother as I was a baby. Mother caresses my hair gently: “Xuan, don’t blame me because you don’t have a father. That day, I was foolish…”
I am silent by the memory of mother’s vivid, sad movie. Mother’s voice suddenly softens, brings me back to the past.
… She walked towards the high mountain. Behind her was the vibrant city and noisy district town. She left behind the hustle and painful love. In front of her eyes, high and low mountains rode dew, wore clouds with thousands of forest trees under the bright yellow sunshine. She received the decision to teach at the highlands. She walked as if she were running away. She cannot let parents get a bad reputation. Her family was exemplary in the eyes of people. They were teachers. Her elder brother was talented, successful and he worked as a teaching assistant at Thai Nguyen University.
Nowadays, she buried feelings to the bottom of her soul. She tried to forget that man. Did the love and the ebullience of youth blind her eyes? No! In her deep mind, he was a warm, loving man. She did not understand, why did he change his feelings so quickly? Just two months ago, after a passionate kiss, he whispered: “At the end of this year, let’s go to your home”. Leaned her head into his strong chest, listened to his heartbeat, she was filled with hope.
However, the desire for wealth pulled him away from her. He stepped into the flower car with the daughter of the real estate family. She was disappointed, painful, like someone holding a knife to cut her heart into a hundred pieces. However, she did not complain or blame. She quietly left, despite difficulties waiting ahead. In her belly there was a small drop of his blood and she was raising.
August. The autumnal cold breeze. She arrived at the Pu Nhi School. The school was in the middle of the village. Welcoming her at top of the slope was the Chief of A Chao village. In the sound of the strong wind, the Village Head said honestly: “Teacher, it’s difficult up here, but the villagers like the teacher. Children expect the teacher’s education a lot.”
At night. Wrapped in a warm blanket but still cold. The mountain air and the cold breeze howled, released the cold into the empty little house. It was cold from her soul. The dew rolled on the leaves, the water under the ravine moaned and lamented… she was homesick, pitiful, burst into tears, choking.
Pu Nhi school, all year round, covered by full of dew. The dew was so much that she felt as if she was floating among milky windy space. Every morning, she waited for the clearing dew, then started to teach. In winter, many days, pupils and teacher huddled in the cold dew, lit a fire to warm up, the dew flew away, the children could see the board clearly then they can start to learn words.
On morning of the first day of Lunar New Year, twenty-four years ago, spring sunshine spread the sweet warmth. Her belly was round and tight, the day she was going to give a birth. She withered, pursed her lips in pain as if someone was tearing her intestines. In the small house connecting the classrooms of the school site, the fragrance emitted from the pot of yellow flower tea, the village nurse, Ms. Say, encouraged: “Teacher, try hard, a baby is coming”. Heaven and earth seemed to stop when a girl’s cry “wa…oa…wa” resounded. She named her daughter as Xuan. Daughter had her last name Dao…”
Night. About half an hour left until heaven and earth will intersect, until the Eve. Mother told me that later, when I accidentally meet the man who gave me a shape and life, then will not be resentful. After all, I am still his blood drop.
Mother suddenly stops talking, stands up, and quickly picks up the sticky rice cakes. Gently, mother urges: “Daughter, call to wish your grandparents and the oldest family. Let’s celebrate the Eve with the villagers” On mother’s face is a bright, peaceful smile.
***
Pu Nhi villagers all year round live in the mountain, among the ancient yellow flower tea trees. Although knowing this species of forest tea, from its leaves to flowers, they are used as a very good drink. However, the villagers do not know that this is a rare and precious medicinal herb, called a “panacea”.
I don’t know how, mother propagates the benefits of Chrysanthemum camellia. Then the villagers listen the teacher going to the forest, up the mountain to pluck each yellow flower tea root, plant the hills around the village, creating a large tea forest. I and the children ran tired, still around a corner.
These kinds of tea are strange. Its purple-pink buds covered by the dew, washed by the wind, sunbathed to rise. The leaves turn dark green when the trees give sparkling yellow buds. Before Lunar New Year, some trees bloomed. When the spring breeze blows, sparkling flowers light up the sky.
Every year, after the second day of Lunar New Year, when worshiping the forest god, the villagers collect the flowers. On these days, many visitors from far away come to Pu Nhi. They come to travel, experience to pick and buy the Chrysanthemum camellia. Now, the Pu Nhi villagers live a well-off live from the yellow flower tea trees, combined with the “Homesday community tourism model”.
Dear, I love its yellow color. I want to drop myself into the fragrant pollen, filled with the sound of flying bees. I like standing on the high mountains, looking at each house on stilts among dew, with thousands of bright Chrysanthemum camellia. The seasons of flowers cling to my feet, calling me back. I study at Thai Nguyen University of Agriculture and Forestry, wish to have a lot of scientific knowledge to develop Chrysanthemum camellia in the high mountains.
I remember very much, last year Lunar New year holiday, our class had a few months left before the university graduation exam, the whole class was eager to go to Pu Nhi to experience the “Homesday community tourism model”. In the immense fragrance of tea, amidst the excitement to pick the yellow camellias, you whispered to me: “I will come here with you and the villagers, invest in producing products, and build a brand of the tea as foreign countries. Not sell fresh camellias anymore”
At that time, even in the sweet yeast of love, I was suddenly afraid, one day your words would fly with the clouds and the blowing wind…
This Lunar New Year, the color of Chrysanthemum camellia is very beautiful, Pu Nhi village will be crowded with tourists because the Covid epidemic has been controlled among the community. Yesterday afternoon you called me and whispered: “The Cat Lady of mine, I miss and love you very much. I have a secret for you!” And he burst out laughing before the phone ended…
* * *
At morning of the first day of Lunar New Year, mother smiled cheerfully, asked “Our village welcomes tourists. Dear Xuan, will you be surprised when that person’s family to talk for a hundred-year matter?” My ears seemed to have buzzle sound, my chest jumped strongly. What mother said was beyond my imagination! Very surprised, I suddenly whispered: “I love you, the street boy!”
At the moment, mother goes to visit the villagers and wish their good spring and drop the nice words at their houses. I am engrossed in watching the Chrysanthemum camellia forest to show its brilliance in the drizzle rain. Mother is not mine alone. Mother belongs to an ethnic group in Pu Nhi village.
Look! In the ethereal, immense and magical white dew region, the seductive yellow color of Chrysanthemum camellia, a group of cars driving uphill to the village. The soaring birds in the sky sing joyful songs welcoming the spring.
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