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| Mr. Tran Van Khuyen, a Hue native present at the new economic zone |
In an article published in Lam Dong Newspaper in early spring 1978, journalist Vu Thuoc depicted the new economic zone established by people from Hue in Lam Dong – a vivid rural scene described in rich, evocative language:
“Upon reaching the top of Ma Oi hill, the entire Huong Lam new economic zone (NEZ) stretched out before us. Rows of neat, cozy houses sat in square lots, leaning against the mountainside; vast fields extended to the horizon, encircling the villages; rows of sweet potatoes bloomed in purple, and cassava plants stood tall and straight like aligned chopsticks across the hilltops. And in the distance, beyond thick green bamboo hedges, the crystal-clear Dong Nai River flowed gently downstream. The voices of children reciting their lessons echoed up so clearly, even from the top of Ma Oi hill…”
Two regiments with 1,800 youth volunteers from Hue City, after completing the tasks of building roads, clearing land, establishing villages, and leveling fields, carried out the preparations to welcome incoming settlers. After celebrating the Lunar New Year of the Horse in 1978, the first wave of migrants, more than 100 households with nearly 700 people, set off on their journey. These were volunteers who had chosen to help build the NEZ of Huong Lam, a name symbolizing the merging of the Huong River and Lam Dong.
Over morning coffee nearly fifty years later, the elderly men and women who once helped build the NEZ recounted their stories as if they had happened just yesterday. Their memories remained vivid despite the passage of time. They recalled the convoy of vehicles carrying people from Hue, turning off at the Madagui junction on National Highway 20 and stopping at Cang waterfall, about 7–8 kilometers from the settlement site. Everyone, from young to old, carried their belongings and helped one another walk the rest of the way. The mountains and forests were wild and desolate, the eerie calls of roaming animals echoed through the trees, and Ma Oi Hill loomed ahead as if to challenge their every step.
Then the rain began to fall heavily, the sky thick with water. The temporary shelters set up for them were still incomplete. A few hastily built huts offered just enough cover from the rain. Beds, tables, baskets, pots, rice, and even ancestral altars were left stacked in damp piles out in the open. The coughing of the elderly, the crying of children, the barking of dogs, the clucking of restless chickens all filled that corner of the untouched forest with chaotic sound…
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| Hue residents in Da Lay commune tending to flowers and beautifying the roads |
Upon hearing that the households had arrived, the two Pioneering Youth regiments were ordered to stop clearing land and come greet the people. The elderly, children, and all household belongings from the 100 families were carried into the new village by the Pioneering Youth teams.
When they heard the words "new village," many were overjoyed, imagining there would be houses, rice fields, wells, lights, and food all ready and waiting. But upon arrival, Comrade Nguyen Thai Long, head of the NEZ’s command board, pointed and declared, “Phu An Village, Thuan Hoa Village, Thuan Thanh Village… are right here.” Everyone looked in confusion toward where he was pointing: a barren forest, scorched by American chemical agents, with only a few charred tree trunks left standing like blackened columns against the sky. Surrounding the area were tall wild grasses and reeds that reached over their heads. Amidst those grass patches, the planning team had only managed to place a few marker stakes and run ropes to demarcate plots for each household.
The rain kept pouring. To get around, people had to wade through soggy, muddy grass fields, the muck splashing up to their necks. The Pioneering Youth members gave up their own sturdier shelters to let the villagers rest in them, while they sheltered themselves under torn plastic sheets in the forest, which exposed to the wind and rain on all sides. Faced with these harsh and uncertain conditions, many families became disheartened and discouraged from the start. Some even went straight to the command board demanding to return to their hometown.
In response, the leadership took turns staying with the people day and night, explaining, persuading, and offering support. The youth teams sprang into action; some chopping wood, others cutting thatch, building support posts, working together to erect solid huts for the villagers. Just a few days later, simple one-roof shelters began to go up, helping settle people’s spirits. From the very foundations of those early shelters, nine months later, real houses began to rise. Each family received a square 1,000 m² plot, and the land began to bloom and bear fruit...
About a year after that first wave, 500 households with over 2,000 people had arrived, followed by more groups, eventually totaling 3,000 households who came to settle in the new land of Huong Lam. Conditions gradually became more favorable.
Reading through the old article, written in the plain and heartfelt language of journalist Vu Thuoc, we couldn't help but share in the joy of Hue people’s early days of resettlement: “The comrades from the worksite command board took us to visit the villagers. We walked the whole day and still didn’t get past the cassava forests and sweet potato fields. There was even a wedding decorated with vases of purple sweet potato flowers, symbols of loyalty and happiness. This season, the villagers estimated a harvest of about 3,000 tons of sweet potatoes and more than 2,000 tons of cassava. Some sweet potatoes weighed several kilograms, and cassava bushes yielded tens of kilos each. The first rice crop was lost to floods, but they still managed to salvage a few dozen tons, which they kept as seed for the next season…”
According to the recollections of Do Duc Du, just over a year later, by the Lunar New Year of the Year of the Goat (1979), more than 300 households in the Huong Lam NEZ had built permanent homes. All houses followed a uniform design created by the regional command board. Each house had two main compartments and three wings. Larger families built bigger houses. The roads leading from the central area to each team and household were wide, elevated with earth, and bordered with sturdy grass. On one side of the village lay the mountain slopes; on the other, vast rice fields stretched out before them. The villagers farmed collectively and shared the yield based on work points. Each household had its own house and garden, but the expansive fields of rice, corn, and sweet potatoes belonged to everyone.
In those early days, before any cooperative was formally established, people had left their hometowns empty-handed, yet worked tirelessly to build a more stable life. House construction and garden care were done outside of working hours, and many families worked through the night. The villagers of the New Economic Zone launched a movement called “leave with nothing, return with something,” gathering bamboo and thatch themselves to build homes. Solitary or elderly households were assisted by the teams. Little by little, the village began to take shape. Inside every house was an altar, a portrait of Uncle Ho, a new year calendar, and even traditional folk paintings brought from Hue. During the 1979 Lunar New Year of the Goat, every garden buzzed with rows of blooming chrysanthemums. The golden hue of this familiar flower felt like a sacred link, connecting the people of Hue now building a new life in the NEZ with their birthplace by the Huong River. Along with chrysanthemums, they had also brought banana plants, jackfruit trees, gourds, and chili peppers from their old homeland…
When the Pioneering Youth team finally left Huong Lam, they had managed to carefully arrange the education for the children in the NEZ areas. Le Ngoc Anh, teacher, a former member of the Pioneering Youth team from Hue City and former Head of the Education Department of Da Teh district, recalls: Among the people who went to the NEZ areas, there were as many as 800 children who were either attending school or of school-going age. Back then, building schools was not difficult, but there was a shortage of teachers, books, and equipment. The leadership struggled for a long time before they could solve the issue, addressing education from primary to secondary school, but they couldn't send children far away for high school. In the face of a shortage of teachers, those with a college or university degree or a high school education in the Pioneering Youth team were recruited. They were teachers without professional teacher training, like Le Ngoc Anh, Tran Phuc Tu, Tran Minh Tri, Ngo Quang My, Thai Quang Tuan, Truong Hoa, Ngo Van Thanh, Tran Hoa, Hoang Thi Hong, Nguyen Van Tam, and Tran Quang. Books, pens, and the curriculum were obtained by requesting them from the Lam Dong Education Department in Da Lat and from Hue. Desks and classrooms were made from bamboo. "Necessity is the mother of invention," and the enthusiasm of these people, from the old to the young in the new land, made them stronger and more confident in overcoming difficulties.
In a conversation with me on a morning in the beautiful land of "distant Hue" today, Mr. Nguyen Minh Tanh, Chairman of the People's Committee of Da Lay commune, who was born in the early days when the Pioneering Youth team from Hue began to clear land and open up new territories, said: "I belong to the generation that grew up when the new homeland was already established, but through every story and memory shared by our elders about the early days of settling, we can imagine how hard and difficult those days were. We inherited the rich cultural and historical heritage of the ancient Imperial Capital, the culture of the Central Highlands, and the precious traditions of our ancestors who once pioneered the land. The history of Da Lay reminds us to live and work in a way that honors the blood, sweat, and tears of those who came before us..."
(To be continued)