When I was little, my dad often took me for a walk Stairs on the street leading to many areas to show the beauty of Saigon’s life.
One time, walking on Tran Hung Dao street to Nguyen Thai Hoc intersection, I saw people moving cabbage. When I got down from the truck, I asked to turn around and take a look, but my dad said, “This area isn’t very nice, people are very cruel, they argue and use impolite words…” I asked why people were so cruel, and my dad promised to explain when he grows up. I kept wondering what that meant?
The year I entered acting school, I asked my parents to stay in the dormitory as an excuse because I didn’t have the standards to stay in the dormitory. city, but I was determined to get it for two reasons, one is that student life without the experience of living in a dormitory is a waste, and two is because Tran Hung Dao dormitory is right next to the market that my dad told me ” “people are very cruel” I wanted to find the answer myself.
The first night in the dormitory I heard the typical fishy smell of Cau Muoi market when the wind blew from the sky. The river blew strongly into the window of my room on the 7th floor, and it turned out that at night people were carrying fish and shellfish from boats to Cau Muoi market.
Early in the morning, I climbed up to the terrace to look out at Ben Chuong Duong below. The yellow street light I could see a dim part of the market from the river’s edge, the boats were parked too close to the river bank, there were rows of roofs covering the market stalls, the narrow road was full of people and there were many people carrying the tore. Pushing the cart back and forth, although it was very crowded, it was not chaotic, as if it had some sort of order. I heard the sound of a truck growling but I couldn’t see the direction of Nguyen Thai Hoc Street being obscured.
The further you go down to the riverside, the more muddy the market seems with the foul smell of fish, snails, clams and shellfish. The sellers down here are less bustling in the afternoon, they seem quieter and more leisurely, it seems like they live on boats or on stalls. On both sides of the road, the goods in each house are different. One house contains coal, the other is filled with woven salt bags, the other sells sweet potatoes, potatoes, wire, oil lamps, barrels, cans… I looked at each person’s face and did not see anyone who looked like me. What is… very fierce.
I stepped on the muddy road across Chuong Duong wharf to the river bank, boats anchored close to the weak afternoon sunlight, many women were cooking rice at the bow of the boat, smelling of delicious food. A complex of children and men bathing at the back of the boat and going to other boats talking loudly. Someone spoke in a reformed voice, evoking the undulating world on the river, so lively, rustic and sincere. If I close my eyes to the sounds I hear on this part of the river, I think I’m standing on the riverbank in some peaceful countryside!
Going along the riverbank, I pass by stalls selling clams and shellfish. The sound of rustling goods, weighing clams and oysters, mixed with the clear voices and bright laughter of the women, freely sharing stories about their husbands and children in the market street. A few boys, about twelve or thirteen years old, used the stroller expertly, zigzagging very skillfully, their mouths raised in “loud” nasal voices, along with the sound of motorbikes, stirring up the sky as it began to darken.
I used to know such a boy. When his stroller bumped into me, he smiled innocently, “Are you okay? You yelled too much, why didn’t you avoid it? You just moved into the dorm, right? Every new girl is so absent-minded that every year I bump into the girls… shy away, shy away…” The boy spoke quickly and pushed the cart quickly and went very far. Early the next morning, the boy himself called me from afar to ask, “Is your leg okay?” in a friendly way like an acquaintance. The boy named Dui calls himself a street person who sleeps at the market.
I stayed in the dormitory for about a month and got to know quite a few women selling small vegetables at Cau Muoi market. They recognized students in the dormitory very quickly and often. Selling very cheaply and giving away with a very sympathetic look. Of course, I know most of Dui’s group of kids pushing carts. It was Dui who took me to inspect the night market and showed me which grandmother and grandfather this barn belonged to. Where did they come from to start a business and get rich? Their descendants have these stalls for three generations, that is, their families have stayed at this market. from the French period.
Thanks to Dui, I feel secure in hanging around the market until 2 a.m., knowing the rules of trucks coming in and out, knowing the difference between delivery trucks and pick-up trucks, knowing the rules for dividing business areas. At night, trolley groups know who the leaders are and often growl at each other about things. They know how to drink coffee at midnight. They know a little about the truck drivers, the cyclo drivers, the motorbike taxi drivers, the chili sellers. She sold vegetables, she sold cigarettes, and the girls sold lemons and chili… but Dui never told me about her. She only asked, “Someday, if you become an artist, if you go to sing, please give me a ticket. I want to go to the theater once.” Sit in the first row and watch!”
I stayed in the dormitory for a while and heard the female students in the upper courses telling each other about the family situation of each lady selling at the market. In fact, each student has their own relationship between the student and the salesgirls, who have formed a close, trusting relationship. They know which school the student attends, which year, which year, where he is from, and which room in the dormitory. They sold short to students when they were strapped for money. Market culture in Saigon is a way of exchanging back and forth a few sentences at a time for many days, combined into a long story. Sellers and buyers form close relationships and do not compete with each other’s customers, trading from retail to wholesale. Wholesale is based on trust.
After four years, I feel like this market is an extension of my dormitory, from the cyclo drivers selling cigarettes and pushing carts to the ladies. The sisters and brothers selling vegetables, spices, fish and meat, who were once strangers, have now become close acquaintances, smiling instead of saying hello, asking if today’s sales are good or not. Sometimes they stop to listen to a few more complaints. A few words of reproach or they asked us about exam season, summer vacation, Tet holiday, even about being fat, sick, pale and sad, they noticed and asked if it was because they were tired from studying for exams or sick, asking about love stories if they happened a few times. market without the other person.
Strange Students who go to the market here in the afternoon often go as a couple, so they also remember that if the couple sees it missing, they immediately ask. The most touching thing is that every time the media reports on a province hit by storms and floods with crop failures, they almost wait for students from that province to come out to ask if their families back home are okay… Everything happens in a strangely simple and sincere way. They love students because they value knowledge and love being far away from a needy home and are willing to share even though they themselves run to the market to eat every day.
Many times over the past four years I have witnessed arguments, swearing at each other with very vulgar words and even fighting, but I did not see anything scary, nor did I see them as very fierce as I had heard from the public. I think they were just reacting in a moment of anger, not because of its nature, it couldn’t cover their love for each other and the people from all over the world gathered to form this market.
Once I had an argument. fiercely with the teacher at school when in a dramatic situation, a character made a disparaging remark: “Cau Muoi market people!” I finally convinced the teacher to cut out that line. Actually, at that time I just thought about Dui Em, who hates that sentence!
When the State decided to move Cau Muoi market to Tam Binh, Thu Duc, most of their lives were greatly disturbed. I felt so sorry for their sad and painful scene that I didn’t know what to do. At that time, I realized that behind a correct policy that is beneficial to society for a large crowd, there are also huge disadvantages and disadvantages. For the small crowd, the problem is how to support and compensate for that loss in a reasonable, compassionate and fair manner.
After the day Cau Muoi market was cleared, I no longer saw Dui anymore, I don’t know her now. where is it now?
< p>Nowadays, every day when I go back and forth through the old Cau Muoi market, I drive slowly to remember the locations of the stalls, imagine who was selling at what location in the past, and to keep an eye out in case Dui comes back. here to play…
Nguyen Thai Hoc street is now wide and clean, a new bridge has been built connecting districts 4 and 7, the canal has been dredged, Vo Van Kiet avenue is large and spacious, I take my children The girl walked around and talked about the old Cau Muoi Market. She couldn’t imagine how in the center of the city there were boats anchored close together and convoys of trucks carrying goods pouring down from night to morning. I can’t imagine there being a market that has been operating for more than a hundred years without stopping to sleep.
I regret that in the past I didn’t have time to take videos of this strange market.
According to “Old Saigon” by Mr. Vuong Hong Sen, Cau Muoi market dates back to the Nguyen Dynasty. At that time, people dug a canal from Ben Nghe canal – which is Nguyen Thai Hoc street now – and built a bridge under the canal to transport salt. Salt warehouses are rows of thatched houses located along both sides of the canal. Salt from Phan Thiet and Bac Lieu is transported here for export to Cambodia. When the French invaded Saigon, the salt warehouses became abandoned. People from all over the country who fled from the enemy came here to reside and gradually opened a market called Cau Muoi market.
According to writer Son Nam, Cau Ong Lanh market and Cau Muoi market were born at the same time. The distance is only a few hundred meters by a canal. Both markets are “on the wharf under the boat” but the canal was later filled in so Cau Muoi market became far away from the river wharf.
Why is it called Cau Ong Lanh market? An article by Phong Vu Tran Van Hai (also known as Khuong Viet) that won first prize in the history contest in Tri Tan newspaper published in June 1942 recounted that: In 1874, the Hue court signed a treaty to sever Cochinchina and hand it over to Cochinchina. According to this treaty, the French government was allowed to set up a consulate in Hanoi and vice versa, the Nguyen dynasty was allowed to set up a consulate in Saigon, headquartered at the corner of De Tham – Tran Hung Dao street. Today that consul is Mr. Nguyen Thanh Y (currently still a street name in DaKao ward, district 1).
The consulate’s main job at that time was to issue visas for people from the Central region to buy and sell in Saigon, so Mr. Nguyen Thanh Y often rode a two-horse vehicle back and forth to the market area under Chuong wharf. Duong is where the bridge anchors the boats and ships of the merchant lake world. From then on, it was called Cau Ong Lanh market.
“In 1875, the French government in Saigon officially allowed the establishment of Cau Muoi and Ong Lanh bridges. If we count from that time point, it has now been 125 years, and how many years before that still have no answer” – Vo Dac Danh.
< b>Nguyen My Khanh
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