HACHLAM

Nguyen Tuong Lan (pseudonym: Thach Lam) was born July 7 (?), 1910 in Hanoi, northern Vietnam, to a literary family. His older brothers, Nguyen Tuong Tam (Nhat Linh) and Nguyen Tuong Long (Hoang Dao), were two early modern writers and co-founders of the Tu-luc Van-doan literary group. Other relatives, too, would make their names in this field, such as his nephews, Duy Lam, The Uyen and Tuong Hung, as well as his son, Nguyen Tuong Giang.

Considered a bright student, Thach Lam quit formal schooling before achieving his baccalaureate degree (indicating completion of secondary education) when he was denied permission to continue his education in France along with his brother, Nhat Linh. He spent the next few years working as a journalist and trying to improve his poor physical health. Among his friends was Nguyen Kim Hoan, a member of the anti-colonialist Vietnamese Nationalist Party who was jailed and tortured by the French, When Hoan began taking opium to alleviate the physical pain caused by his imprisonment, Thach Lam accompanied him to the opium dens and later became addicted to the drug.

The young writer contributed regularly to Nhat Linh's weekly papers, Phong Hoa and Ngay Nay, and established a reputation for himself as a journalist and literary author. He wrote a number of books, articles and essays, including a collection of sketches describing the unique character of Hanoi, entitled Hanoi Bam Sau Pho Phuong(tr. Hanoi: 36 Streets). Unlike others in his family, Thach Lam avoided politics and eventually moved to a modest country home where he resided until his death in 1942 of tuberculosis. He left behind a wife and three children.

In "The Market Girl," the author tells the story of a young village girl in the early part of this century helping to support her family. The story emphasizes the simplicity, familiarity and hardship of village life for the ordinary people, as well as the strength of family ties in Vietnamese society.

District Market held six times a month.

Meet the market girl and let love take its course.

Once Mademoiselle Tam spied the big banyan tree and the brick shop through the fog, her weariness left her. At the same time, the row of bamboo at the head of the village seemed to come close, the boughs bending in the wind, and Tam could hear the leaves rustle and the main stems creak. She was near home and the load on her shoulders became lighter, the bending of the pole now falling in time with her quickened pace. She felt assured and warm inside, forgetting the worry still lingering in her mind as she passed the wide fields of sparse stubble where the north wind wafted by in gusts.

Passing through the old brick gate, she entered the village. The way was darker and made rough by the heavy tread of water buffalo, but Tam knew the road by heart She heard the familiar crackling sound of dry bamboo leaves under her feet. The pungent odor of marshweed from the pond and the soaked rice stalks rose into her nostrils. Going by the houses she knew well, she could see the lamplight glowing through the hedges and hear the voices of people inside.

"Ah, First Aunt Si is home already!"

Aunt was always early in closing shop and coming home before the others because she had a small child. As for Tam, she could return early, too, if she wanted, since few people came to buy in the afternoon. But she enjoyed staying a little while longer with the girls.

"Only 'cause Lien made me stay so we could come back home together.... I wonder if she's got home yet."

Tam thought of herself, her mother waiting for her and her little brother and sisters waiting for the molasses candy she carried. She had wrapped the candy carefully and placed it at the bottom of the basket, two pieces for each child. No doubt they would be happy with that.

Tam hurried along. In front of the village hall the brick courtyard stretched full into the dark and quiet night. The stone lion was still perched upon the pedestal outside - a form she was well acquainted with. Suddenly she stopped to avoid bumping into someone turning out of the alley. The other person, too, moved to the side close to the hedgerow. But Tam recognized her at once.

"Aunt Vy! Where are you going so late?"

The other stopped to look her in the face.

"Who's there? Ah, Mademoiselle Tam! Coming home from market?"

Tam had already gone on. The bamboo whistled harder and a cold drizzle fell against her face. Walking by old Madame Nhieu's house, she came to her alley. The door was ajar. Turning the end of her carrying pole, she pushed the door open wide and stepped in. All the cold and darkness, the dankness and the empty fields were left behind outside. She was home. The warm smell of buffalo manure caught right in her throat In a moment she could hear the animals trampling in their stable. Sensing movement, the spotted dog began to bark, then he raced to her feet and remained at her heels. Inside, the children began to cry.

"Oh! Oh! Sister Tam is home!"

Tam laid her pole just inside the door. From the lamp's light she could see that her clothes were spotted with rain. First to run up to her was her little brother Lan, nearly tripping over the table as he did. Then came Ai, and little sister Be followed soon after.

"Where's our candy?"

Lan was already bending over the baskets when Tam stopped him.

"Hey! Let me get it for you! If you're not careful, you'll break the glass!"

She looked down into the basket The rain had only glanced against the glass sides of the neat compartments of her load. Nothing inside was wet.

"Here, two for each of you!"

They all crowded around.

"Baby has been so good. Here's the share I saved for you!"

Then she heard Madame Tu calling from below.

"Tam? Is that you home?"

"Yes, Mama It's me"

Madame Tu came and led the little children away, saying, "All you kids think about is eating! You don't let your sister in the house!"

Then, turning to her daughter, "Wash up and come eat How come you're back so late today?"

"Mama, today I sat at Son Market"

The house girl had come up from the kitchen and stood talking with them by the door.

"Now, here!" said Madame Tu. "You don't put the things away for her, but just stand here talking?"

In the house it was warm and cozy, not at all like outside. The lamp shone familiarly on the table, the old yellow strokes of the placards with couplets and Chinese inscriptions glowing dully in the dark. On the wooden bed, there lay a tray of food covered with a net to keep the flies off.

"Sit here and eat," said Tam's mother. "It's so cold out, tomorrow don't go to market Why go and get sick?"

The littlest one added, "Stay home with us, sister! Tomorrow's Sunday and we have off!"

Tam smiled and rubbed the child's hair. She was quite happy to see her mother care for her, and her brother and sisters love her. All her weariness disappeared. Times like these made her forget her fears and worries. She felt cheerful and in her heart there blossomed beautiful thoughts of her family.

"Go on and eat," Madame Tu urged her lovingly. "Don't go hungry. Just leave everything there and the girl will put it away."

"Yes," Tam replied, but she still did not sit down to supper. Rather, she continued to put away her goods - two square wooden boxes with things to sell and packages tied securely in the basket All were precious, because it was by selling these that she earned an income to support her family and help her parents while times were lean these past two or three years since Monsieur Tu had moved back from the city. The family fields were just big enough to give them rice to eat and this old brick house was the site of ancestral worship for the whole family. Monsieur Tu's eyes were weak and he was no longer teaching.

"Is Papa home yet Mama?"

Madame Tu answered slowly with a sigh.

"Your Papa has gone to see the village chief since yesterday. Usually he's there a few days before coming home."

They both knew that upon coming home Monsieur Tu would be feeling low and he would go around to see his friends in the village.

Dinner was wonderful. Tam ate beneath the gentle and loving gaze of her mother. The children gathered around, asking about all that had happened at the market. Tam looked into their faces, their innocent, shining eyes beneath mops of silky hair, and she felt tenderness and pride within her heart - an older sister struggling to support her younger brother and sisters so they could go to school. She inquired of Lan and Ai about their studies, their being in the third grade in the village school. During better times, she, too, had gone to school and at home her father had taught her Chinese as well. But for some time now, she had given up her books to enter a wider, more difficult and fixed world. Selling her wares was getting harder all the time because Tam had so little to offer. Her entire load was worth only 20 piasters. If only she could afford to sell cloth at the market like Lien....

"Okay, kids. Time for bed. Tomorrow you have to be up early to go to school!"

Lan laughed and answered his sister.

"Tomorrow is Sunday, remember? Tonight I'm staying up real late to talk with you!"

But not long afterwards, inside the quiet home only Tam and her mother were left alone on the wooden bed. The girl went over to her goods and set them out to prepare for the next day's work at the main market in Bang village. The items were small, varied and pleasant to look at: spools of thread and little packages of needles, a box of pens, buttons, blue bleach papers - a hundred different things passing through the girl's fingers that were as precious as they were few in number. To her hand, each article had its own soul and she could guess in her mind the trouble and toil that had gone into making them all. She had added several new things to sell at the market: facial powder, hair oil and lipstick. She gazed at the little metal lipstick holder in her hand — costing one and a half hao 1 — containing a sweet-smelling red stick to deepen the color of the lips of the girls who lived in the city. Once or twice she had seen at the market some of these city girls coming down to the countryside with their white skin and red lips, all proper and dignified. Once late at night, Tam had applied the color to her own lips and stolen a glance at herself in Aunt Ba's little round mirror. She was a bit ashamed to see her reflection there with her lips crimsoned as if covered with blood.

"Are things selling all right, daughter?"

"Pretty well, Mama."

Lien, who sold cloth, was not as good - looking as Tam. Tam knew she was the prettiest girl in the market The boys all liked to hang around the place where she sat and tease her. But she paid them no mind. She felt firm in her worth and her noble heart She worked hard to assist her family, and besides, except for some girl spoiled beyond telling, anyone in her position would do the same thing. To Tam, working was a common rule of the people. She saw around her all the women struggling to help support their families. Never did Tam think of herself and her own life.

But she could not help being curious about her life. She looked up at the kindly face of Madame Tu, then turned away, embarrassed. She had a personal secret She thought of a boy, clever, fine in speech and well-behaved. On market days at Bang, she found him buying needles and thread from her. She lowered her eyes and felt his warm gaze fall heavy upon her. She blushed. Their talk was shy and abrupt, but it made her excited and happy.

They said he was the young village schoolteacher. His appearance was dignified and he was not like the other boys in the village. Yet by his traditional robe, Tam guessed he was very poor. Just as she was.

She was still thinking about him as she climbed into bed and covered herself with her blanket against the cold. Everyone was asleep. On the desk beside the kerosene lamp, her brother's pile of books and pens stood between her and the light. Oh, those children! So smart and so obedient Did they know how hard she worked to find the money to buy their paper and books for them? She dreamed of their success in the future: graduating from school, they would go to work in the city to help their parents. Then her family would be as well-off and happy as they had been once before.

This simple and loving sister thought on into the quiet night The watchman's drum signaled it was past midnight before she sighed softly and closed her eyes and fell asleep.

All her cares faded into the background and the girl's unaffected soul became restful and still.

Early the next morning in the cold north wind, Tam opened the gate to head out to market White mist still lingered over the village's narrow pathways. The smell of damp straw and grass reached her nose - country smells she knew well that made her feel at ease and more confident She stepped quickly.

Her shoulder pole sagged with the weight of its load, creaking on her tiny arm in time with her footsteps. She trudged along, step by step, without thinking. To her, this day was like every other day and tomorrow would be the same. All her life she had worked with everything she had and her days were like coarse cloth of an evenly woven pattern. Not that there was no one else like her. Living amid the clumps of green bamboo, there were countless others, like her, who faced toil and weariness to earn a few piasters to help their families. Tam felt neither frustrated nor proud, only content in knowing that many people also lived and worked as she did.

Her pace was even and she reached the market early. She laid out her wares on the ground at the same spot where she always did. The first rays of sunlight shone on the glass compartments of her trays. The colors shone brightly under her fingertips - smooth spools of thread, mother-of-pearl buttons, gleaming mirrors. Everything was clean and orderly and small, like her task, like the thoughts of the market vendor.

The cool, clear morning air reddened her skin and made her blood flow quickly. Tam felt happy and alive inside. Mademoiselle Lien and the boy who carried her cloth had arrived as well The two girls talked and laughed like a pair of sparrows.

"How much did you make yesterday?"

"I sat here forever and sold only one bolt of silk!"

"What more do you need?" responded Tam. "That's what I earn in a whole day!"

The market grew noisier and more crowded. So many people and so much noise seemed to put Tam in a trance. The sounds of conversation, joking and cursing poured from the stalls. It was a glowing and colorful activity. The simple foods, odds and ends from the countryside, ripe fruit picked from home gardens- and across the road the fine smell of hot rice gruel.

Tam no longer lent herself to thought and worry. The business of selling and haggling seized her like a warm wind.

All in the district who had something to sell were there, from the poor women in ragged clothes to the wives of village and district officials in silk skirts and belts, soft cotton blouses, pockets bulging with money. A couple of city girls, probably the daughters of company managers in the prefecture, went back and forth through the market in high spirits, their teeth white and lips red. To Tam they seemed carefree and cheery - walking along with their arms around each other, buying this or that without concern for money, innocent as children. Tam and Lien looked at each other and smiled.

Around noon the young teacher appeared. He still looked frail and distinguished in his old traditional robe Two pairs of eyes met. Tam flushed and her hands moved by themselves. The teacher was embarrassed, half wanting to sit down besider her, half not daring. Lien, sassy and bold, teased them.

"There's Monsieur Teacher! Ask him to buy something. Go on!" Then her head fell back as she laughed while Tam glared at her and a faint smile appeared on the young man's face.

When harvest time was over, Teacher Bai engaged a matchmaker to ask Tam's family about the two being married. The matchmaker was an aunt in Madame Tu's family. After praising the boy as a serious and well-mannered individual, the aunt went on.

"As a sister, I suggest you let the girl marry him. He may be poor, but he's from a good family. His father used to teach school, too. Should Tam become a daughter-in-law in that house, there would be nothing more to worry about"

Madame Tu thanked her and said, "All right Leave it to me. I'll ask Tam what she thinks."

The aunt got up, smiling.

"They're made for each other. If you go along with it, just promise her to him. Why do you need to ask her?"

After the woman was gone, Madame Tu brought the matter up with her husband.

"If you think it's right to give her to him," Monsieur Tu said, "then go ahead. You don't have to ask me."

So saying, he took up his umbrella and went off to another village. His wife looked after him and sighed. Ever since their situation had begun to decline, Monsieur Tu had seemed spiritless and paid no attention to anything anymore. Family affairs he left to his wife. Madame Tu thought of Tam and smiled warmly. Without the girl going off early to sell at the market, how would the old woman make ends meet? Six mouths to feed, two children in school, only enough paddy rice for their home. The thought suddenly came to her: If Tam left to get married, what would she do?

Nonetheless, that evening she called Tam over and spoke to her. The girl listened quietly before responding.

"If I get married, who will pay for the kids' schooling? Let me stay here and do my work and take care of the house for you."

Madame Tu looked at her daughter fondly.

"No. A girl your age should be married. You can't stay at home forever. I can mill rice to earn a little extra money for us. You listen to your mother!"

And she added," Besides, there is no family better than that one. His mother is a good woman and Bai is a fine boy. I would be more than pleased if you should join their family."

Tam lowered her eyes and blushed shyly. She thought of the handsome and well-behaved young man she had fallen in love with the very first time they met But to leave home and get married? Where would Lan and Ai get the money they needed to buy their books? She could not stand to think of her mother working extra for them.

"Mama," she said through tears, "let me stay at home and help you and Papa and the kids. They're still little If I go, who will look after the house?"

But, thinking of her daughter, Madame Tu did not hesitate a moment She consented for Tam and informed the matchmaker. The boy's family asked for a wedding date before New Year's Day.

The day of her wedding, Tam was sad and did not care to make herself up. She called her brother and sisters into the room to say goodbye to them. Lan and Ai hugged her tight around the neck and did not want to let her go.

"You stay here and study hard," she told them tenderly. "Don't do anything to upset Mama and Papa Every month I'll send you some money."

As tears welled in her eyes, Tam stopped and said no more. She picked up her baby sister and kissed her. Then she went out to take part in the ceremony to thank her parents. The weddingprocession followed the little village road to the fields. Along both sides stood the villagers waiting to see the new bride and groom.

That night, Madame Tu's house seemed cold and empty. There were only the mother and three young children there to eat dinner. When it came time to turn out the light, Madame Tu called the house-girl over to talk to her about Tam and ease her grief. Lan and Ai, too, missed their sister dearly. There would be no more nights waiting for Tam to bring her baskets home, hearing her laughter and words and sharing candies and treats. They sat up listening to Madame Tu until it grew late before they fell asleep over their books.

Tam had been at her husband's house only a few days when she had to go sell her wares at once to avoid missing the New Year's markets. Her husband's family was also poor, with little in the way of possessions. Teaching in the village, Bai managed to bring home a few piasters. All household expenditures fell on her shoulders.

As time went by the load of goods she carried became heavier on her tiny frame. Her shoulder pole bent low and groaned. Beside the responsibilities she bore at her husband's house, Tam still had to secure school money for her brother and sister. In the mist, cold and wind of the early hours, she stepped out onto the roadway to head for market On the hard and bumpy way, she took small and quick steps. Her life was no different from what it had been before. The days of weariness and toil continued. Sometimes Tam thought she still lived at home, was still a young girl who every evening carried her load back home to be greeted by her little brother and sisters and hear the sound of her mother's voice, mild and caring. But no, now she would never return to that home again. Her husband's family was hers now. She was concerned for money for her husband's tax, family holidays, and sewing for Bai - the new traditional robe he had purchased for his wedding had soon begun to fade and tear.

The market days also lost their charm. Her cheeks were rosier, her lips deeper and folks said she looked prettier than ever. But what need did she have for such things now? The village youths stopped teasing her and she felt none of the cheerfulness she had enjoyed before To her, the days of a girl's love and hope were gone. She was merely a woman rising early and toiling diligently to support her husband.

At the Bang fair, Lien sat down beside her.

"Look, Tam. I just bought these. Aren't they beautiful?"

She showed her friend a pair of gold earrings she had had made over in the city. Tam held them in her hand to inspect them. Her eyes brightened and she thought of the days she had spent talking with Lien before she got married. They had discussed jewelry and a pair of earrings had been the two country girls' greatest dream. Every day they had talked about this and promised to save their money so that they could buy a pair to wear on New Year's.

"Oh, they're wonderful! How much did they cost?" In fascination Tam handed them back and watched in silence as her friend put them on. The thought came to her that never would she have something like that for herself. How could she save the money? And even if she did have money, she would need it for her home or for her brother. Lan had started going to the city school and the expenses were even greater now. Last summer he had taken from her over 10 piasters. Yesterday, Madame Tu had asked for more so Lan could buy paper to take the test. This concerned Tam. The money she gave him was the money she had been saving for herself. She had hidden it, fearful that her husband or mother-in-law might find out Bai sometimes grew impatient with her when she had no money to give him. And her mother-in-law's language had begun to take on an air of upbraiding and suspicion.

Two years later, Tam gave birth to a son. After remaining in confinement for a half a month, she gave the baby to her mother-in-law to take care of while she took her goods to the market. The years of hard work had changed her. She was no longer the pretty girl of the past She had aged greatly. For some time she had stopped caring about her looks and she did not know when they had begun to fade Beauty was worthless to her once she was married. She felt old and content with her age. On market days, she looked at the girls with the knowing eye of one who has already passed her youth. Now she had no time to make herself up. The pretty market girl who once was known throughout the area now was not remembered by anyone. Other girls had grown up, bright and fresh, spending happy moments with boys in the village. Often, observing their excitement and joy, Tam thought of her past, which seemed so long ago, when she was still a market girl with pink cheeks and red lips, shyly lowering her eyes beneath the affectionate gaze of young Teacher Bai, well-bred and fine-looking in his robe. Where had that time gone? Lien was lucky, marrying a wealthy man and going to live and work in the city. She was still as pretty as before.

Tam sighed softly. Now, of all her old girl friends, none was left to share her pain and weariness.

Tam walked faster by the rice fields, thinking. For a long time she had been unable to visit home because of her little child and her work. Tonight, Lan had returned from the city and Tam was going to see him and to check on her father who had been ill these past few months.

The old banyan tree and the brick shop still waited for her at the end of the village. The paths were still broken by the hard hooves of the water buffalo and from both sides came the smell of marshweed and rice stalks. Nothing in the village had changed. When she heard Madame Tu greet her warmly outside the door and Ai and the little one cry out in joy at seeing their big sister, Tam's heart softened just as it had the times she arrived home from the market with her load. She went inside and sat down on the wooden bed beside her mother. The house seemed vacant now.

"Where's Lan, Mama?"

"He just ran off to the neighbor's. I don't know what he needs, but he's waiting for you so he can borrow again."

Tam sighed.

"I haven't got anything to lend him."

Madam Tu looked at her with concern.

"Your husband has stopped teaching. You must find it very hard."

The two sat together without saying another word. Tam saw how her mother had aged, her hair streaked with gray. Suddenly she felt a pain inside her heart, pity for her mother and sorrow for their poverty.

"There! You're home! I've been waiting since morning!"

Lan hurried in from outside. He had grown taller, stronger and rather impudent- clearly a young student from the city. Tam smiled when she saw him and her eyes shone. She was proud to have such a brother.

"Where have you been? When are you going back to school?"

With gracious concern she asked after him. Lan answered her vaguely, a little upset with her foolish questions. He went straight to the point.

"I have to borrow ten piasters to buy books!"

Tam was aghast.

"Why so much? Where can I get that kind of money? These days business is hard. I may get just a few hao a day. How do you think I can do it?"

Seeing Lan was not at all pleased with her response, she went on quickly.

" Or wait a little bit and I'll take care of it and send it to you through Lien."

"Then where will I get the money for the forms and books now? I might as well stay at home and forget it!"

He got up at once and went outside As Madame Tu watched him go, she lowered her head sadly. Tam looked at her mother, then went out and called her brother back in. She spoke softly and sweetly.

"Oh, my! I've never seen you so angry! I'm not holding the money back. It's just that I really don't have it"

Lan said nothing but turned his face away. Tam could not bear to see her brother this way.

"Here. I have ten piasters, money I got for my husband. You take it and I'll borrow what I need somehow."

She reached in her dress and pulled out a round roll of bills. She had brought this money to pay off their debts and the tax for Bai. But seeing her brother's beaming face, she forgot all about the worries that awaited her.

It was dark when Tam left for home. She hurried on to feed her baby. Fog covered' the fields and a cold wind blew. Tam closed her coat around her and followed the grassy bank, tired and frightened. Where would she find the money to replace what she had given Lan? She recalled how her mother-in-law talked to her and the angry words Bai saved for her each time they asked for money and she had none to give. She thought of the recent bad days at the market when few customers came and sometimes business was good while other times it was not She pushed herself harder. The black ring of bamboo surrounding Bang village appeared suddenly before her, dark and thick. Sadly, she looked at the whole of her life- the life of a market girl from youth to womanhood full of toil and care, one day woven into the next like a coarse cloth. She lowered her eyes and walked faster into the dark alley.

Translated from the story CÔ HÀNG XÉN.