gialy's Homepage

THE CHILD IN THE RIVER

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 12:36 EST

                                         Dedicated to my friends V., S., Jz., and Einstein.

                                                                ------------------

My old familial house, which my grandfather established after his retirement from the mandarin post of
Tri Phu (a kind of Chief of Province), was situated in a large area including gardens and rice fields, with
three sides surrounded by rivers, and the other side was a chain of mountains and forests. My mother
used to tell us that when she came to that house as a new bride, the desolate site scared her a little,
but as she got acquainted, she loved it a lot. Retired, my grandfather became the local medecin, so our
house was most of the time crowded with patients, some ones from far-away places, among them there
were even French people. Years after, when they returned to VN, these foreigners still came to pay visit
to the old rural medecin and thank him.
At that time, wild animals sometimes came down from the mountains. Even in my childhood, one night
an hungry tiger had come down and been shot dead by the local troops at the foot of a hill. Early in the
next morning, one of my cousin and I had run up to see it. I was very disappointed, because it was an old
tiger, so thin that it looked pitiful and miserable. My mom told us that in those past times, one day when
both my grandpa and father were absent, and she was preparing some herbal medicine, a wild boar had
run into our courtyard, and the women and the children had been shouting and fleeing in all directions.
Suddenly, an uncle of mine, my mom's cousin, a six year-old boy, had picked up a broom and ran after
the boar to beat it, and the wild boar, terrified by that terrible kid with his piercing shouts, had fled out.
I really had a hell of an uncle!
My father liked the chase, and he used to go into the forest to chase with one of his best friend, a dead
shot of the village, with the funny name of Giam Xeu. This gentleman was eventually killed by a big wild
boar. That fateful afternoon, they both spotted a big wild boar, and Mr. Xeu shot it down with just a single
shot. As the boar lied motionless on the ground, he came up near it, gun in hand. Suddenly, the boar
rose up and tried to thrust. Very camly, Mr. Xeu stepped back and cocked his gun. But he tripped over
a branch on the ground and fell. The wild boar thrusted against him, tearing up his side with a horrible cut.
He died right at the moment my father carried him back home.
My father was a good marksman, I dont know why members in my family were all good in shooting. My
elder brother was an excellent marksman, I am not bad either, but the best one was my younger brother.
He could shoot with an terrifying accuracy, and one of his favorite game was to put a bullet at the center
of a target, then fired at some distance of fifteen meters, and his shot would blow up that bullet and the
target altogether. My youngest sister had once asked him how could he shoot like that, he smile and told
her jokingly that there were 8 principles of shooting for all marksmen, but he had nine.
When he didn't go for the chase in his free time, my father went for the fishing. He rented a small roofed
boat, carried along a number of his fishing rods and stuffs, plus his inseparable 12-caliber shotgun, and
rowed upstream about some five or six kilometers from our house to fish, right in the middle of the river.
What happened in that scarry night was told to me when I was some ten years old, but I remember it
well.
It was the time when one of his friends came from the city to see him and stayed some days with him.
They had gone for the chase, but they didn't get much, so they returned and took the boat. For a man
from the city, these activities were a real treat. They rowed the boat far upstream, anchored the boat
and began fishing. At the end of the day, they got a lot of fishes that my father put in a bamboo basket
dipped in the water at the boat's bottom. It had been raining some while in the afternoon, the river was
tranquil and very cold. They got some food, then went to sleep, for they were tired. My father did have
a sound sleep, for he only woke up when someone shook him strongly by his shoulders.
"H.! (my father's name)...H.! Wake up!" a strange voice hissed imperceptibly by his ear, "Ghost!..."
My father sat up. In the silence of the night, he heard a light thudding sound of something falling into
the water. Then he looked at the one talking and saw that was Mr.Th. his friend, with a voice out of tune
and a face turned pale from fear.
"What's the matter Th.?" my father asked.
"A ghost, H.! A ghost!...Hush!... Don't move. It will come!"
The man showed outside the boat with his finger. It was not a full-moon night, but there was enough
light to see the white river water flowing downstream and the vague dark trees on the riverbanks. They
stayed silent for a while, Mr. Th. kept on showing the direction with his shaking finger. Then my father
sensed a slight shudder in the boat, and the boat tilted almost imperceptibly at one side, as if something
was clinging to the boat-side to climb up on.
Then a face slowly appeared over the boat-side, raising bit by bit from the river. My father looked and
looked. It was the face of a child. In the dim light, he saw that the child was clutching the boat-side with
his hands and looked into the inside of the boat where they were sitting, overwhelmingly thunderstruck.
It was a very small child, like a new-born. And now he was looking at my father with his rounded eyes
- and a hideous grin on his face, baring his white teeth. A new-born child, with teeth!
In the dark under the boat roof, my father seized his shotgun. But at the slightest sound he made, the
child jumped down into the river with a flopping sound and disappeared.
My father never believed in ghosts. But now he felt cold. And the night was really cold in fact. No one
could soak oneself in this glacial water in the middle of the night, much less a new-born child. So they
both sat silently, completely aghast and doubtful, for a long time. My father took his gun, loaded and
cocked it, awaiting. Time passed. No one spoke.
Then the boat had a slight trembling again, and the boat inclined very lightly, almost imperceptible. The
weird child seized the boat-side with both hands, raising up his face and looking inside the boat, always
with his white teeth and his hideous grin. My father aimed and fired. The explosion broke the silence of
the night. The boat had a tremor as the monstrous child was thrown up in the air and fell flopping down
on the water.
My father and his friend rushed out and looked. The corpse lied there, floating on the river. It was a big
otter. The otter, that water-rat which dived so well and fed on fishes, that night had sensed the smell of
the fishes in the boat and come up to catch them.

                                                       --------------------------------

TIME OF FURY

Sat, 31 May 2008 21:57 EST

                                                    Dedicated to Lady Veronica
                                                                --------------

In the summer I came to my 11th class, I was living in a small town of the Central Vietnam. I had three
friends, very close, although we're not all classmates, two of them were from another high school.
I was the youngest - I was always the youngest in every class, every school I attended. Almost all my
friends at that time were two to four years older than me.
We used to exchange school lessons, do exercises in martial arts and take strolls together around the
town at night, some time till 4 o'clock in the morning. Seldom passed a day we're not together.
Then one day, a friend didn't come. Then two days. At the third day, the three of us decided to come
to his home, as he was living far from us. Just as we were leaving, he came with a devastated face
and a terrible news. His elder sister had killed herself.
I loved that sister a lot. She was a young and very beautiful girl, three years older than me, gentle and
kind. Sometimes, when I came to her house, she had some talk with me, caressing my hair or giving
me some cakes she had made herself. A man seduced her, got her pregnant and dropped her. In this
small town we're living, where rumors spread like wildfire and traditions highly estime the chastity, her
situation was real hell. Desperate and deeply hurt, she jumped into the river and got drowned.
My friend cried, and the three of us were all dazed as he told us this sudden news. We sweared to
revenge for my friend's sister.
We knew the guy who seduced her, he was the son of a rich man, named T., handsome and tall. He
didn't know us, so we could find him and approach him. But he had fled after this event. We roamed
every where, every quarter in our town during all our vacation time. He was nowhere. But we didn't
forget our promise.
Then one afternoon, as I was on a bike behind one of my friend, and he was pedalling through a
deserted road, we surprised the guy, he was playing kind of handball with some other guys. They
were four, so we would have to fight two - to - one. But we're not afraid. My friend dashed the bike at
the guy, he evaded but we still brushed him. The guys shouted and we stopped. A dispute exploded
between my friend and T. - that base guy who seduced and dropped out an innocent girl who had
loved and trusted him, and caused her death.
Eventually, in his anger, T. gave my friend a slap. That was what G., my friend, awaited. He jumped
down from the bike, told me to hold it, then said to the other three guys, "You see, he slapped me.
So let me and him solve this between men, with no one intervening, ok?"
G. was smaller than me though he was older. But he was a better fighter. So that afternoon, he used
the Shaolin Houquan - a kind of boxing called the Monkey Boxing, beating that guy ruthlessly. At the
end, when T. fell down and couldn't rise up, his friends rushed in to his rescue. I threw my bike at one
of them, knocking him down, and fought another one, while G attacked the third. They all fled, perhaps
to call their band. G. seized T.'s collar, raised him up, and said with a very harh voice:
"That's for Miss C.! Understood, coward?"
He stammered indistinctly "Yes...!... give... ... give me..."
G. shouted, "What?"
The guy kept on stammering, "... give... forgive me!... please..."
I looked at his blood-stained face and said to G., "It's ok, G.! Let's go home."
We rode our bike back home. We talked about the fight for some while. Then at one moment, I looked
at the sky, and couldn't move my eyes away. It was a blue, very clear sky, with just some touches of
white clouds, a mild sky of happiness. Suddenly, I felt a sort of sadness invade my heart, sweeping
away all the joy of having revenged for our friends.
Two weeks later, I fell into an ambush set by T. and his band, one night I walked back home. They were
about ten guys, armed with sticks, clubs, chains, even daggers. I was beaten savagely and had to stay
in bed for two months, abandonning my class. My friends wanted to fight back for revenge, we had enough
force to beat them out. But I told all my friends to stop. It was really hard for them to accept that, but in
the end they agreed. The second day after that ambush, my cousin, the one I loved the most in my life,
came to pay me visit. She burst into tears as she looked at my face. I rubbed her hair, and knew deep in
my heart that my adolescent years had come to an end.

------------------------

JOKES

Sat, 31 May 2008 19:36 EST

JOKES

                                                  (Added some new ones)
                                            To Lady Sheila and Lady HUGS
                                           For some moments of relaxation

------------

NAIVE CUSTOMER

A man walked into a sporting-goods shop where he was approached by a clerk.
"May I help you?" the clerk asked.
"Yes, I'd like some shoes."
"What do you want to use them for - tennis, volleyball, basketball, hiking, running, jogging?"
The customer looked around at the different types of shoes, then back at the eager young salesman
and answered, rather timorously:
"Well, I, uh, thought I'd just walk around in them. Is that ok?"

---------------------------

NAIVE WIFE

A tearful house wife stood before the judge and said," Your Honor, I want to charge my husband
with adultery. I think he has been unfaithful to me."
"Do you have any evidence?" asked the judge.
"Well, Your Honor, I' ve been studying the faces of my three children and not one of them looks
like him!"

------------------------

NAIVE HUSBAND!

"I was relaxing in my favorite chair on Sunday," said a man to his friend, "reading the newspaper,
watching a ball game on TV, and listening to another on the radio, drinking beer, eating a snack
and scratching the dog with my foot - and my wife has the nerve to accuse me of just sitting there
doing nothing!"

--------------------

GENTLE HUSBAND!

Husband to wife as they watch television:
" I'd like to get my hands on whoever approves all this violence on TV!"

--------------------------

POOR HUSBAND!

Husband to wife, " I was not yawning the whole time you were talking. I was trying to say something."

-------------------

NAIVE SAINT PETER! POOR MINISTER!

Saint Peter greeted the two ministers at the Pearly Gates and said:
"Your condos aren't ready yet. Until they're finished, you can return to Earth as anything you want."
"Fine," said the first minister. "I've always wanted to be an eagle soaring over the Grand Canyon."
"And I'd like to be a real cool stud," said the second.
Poof! Their wishes were granted.
When the condos were finished, Saint Peter asked an assistant to bring the two ministers back.
"How will I find them?" the assistant asked.
"One is soaring over the Grand Canyon," Saint Peter replied.
"The other may be tough to locate. He's somewhere in Detroit - on a snow tire."

(NOTE. stud: 1. a sexually promiscuous man (Slang)
2. a nail head)

---------------------

CUTE WORDS!

Although he likes it a lot, my brother-in-law is not good in music, especially a tune that he doesn't
carry well. One afternoon, after listening to him for an interminable time, I overheard my sister ask,
"Why do you always hum that song?"
"Because it haunts me, " he answered.
"No wonder," she said, "you're murdering it."

---------------------

FAIRNESS IN MARRIAGE LIFE

Married for 52 years, my grandparents are considered by many to have the ideal marriage. They always
do things together and have never had a dispute. On their 52nd wedding anniversary our grandparents
were asked to reveal their secret for a lasting marriage.
"We have always agreed on a simple arrangement," replied my grand-father. "In the morning she does
what she wants, and in the afternoon I do what she wants."

--------------------

A GHOST STORY

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 01:16 EST

A GHOST STORY

Dedicated to: Jazzie, for her comment
nody, Hnadi, Mtv (long time no see!), Angel of Kuwait
and all my young friends...

My house, where I lived throughout my childhood with my parents, is surrounded on
three sides by rivers, the other side is a range of hills and mountains. The river at the
back of my house is just a branch of the great river in front. It flows, at numerous spots,
between the gardens and deserted lands on the two banks, with thick shrubs and big trees,
and gets very dark at night. My early years were full of ghost stories. My grandma used to
tell us that whenever she passed that section of river on boat by night, she heard a voice
urging from the deep water "Row fast!... Row fast!..", and the boat man hurried to push
his oars. Otherwise, a white hand would raise up from the water and grab the boat-side
and only God knew what would happen.
So we never dared to bath in that river at night.
When I grew up and came to the University, I forgot all those stories. I used to take bath
in that small river by night, and swim along the big river in daytime.
One night, I went to attend a ceremony party at a friend's home in a nearby hamlet. Past
midnight, as I walked back home, I chose a shortcut which led straight to my garden on
the other side of that small dark river.
But there was no bridge at that spot, and I decided to swim across the river. I put out all
my clothes then swim across the river with a hand raising up, holding them over the water.
Reaching to the bank on my garden, I stepped up and began to put on my clothes again.
But when I picked up my shirt and looked up, I saw the girl.
She was standing on the other riverbank, right at the spot I just left some fifteen minutes
before.
The night was lit with a vague moon, which made all the shadows darker. But the girl was
standing right in the moon light, clearly distinguished from the dark background of trees,
looking in my direction. I thought I could see a fixed look on her white face. A white and
pale face.
I had a shudder.
Various ideas came into my mind. The memories and fears from childhood... the curiosity...
the philosophical thinking and conviction of a young student... the desire to know if there
were ghosts or there were not ghosts... etc. So I looked at the girl once more, then putting
on only my shorts, I swam back to the place on the other riverside.
When I reached the bank, the girl disappeared.
I kind of looked around, but she was nowhere. It was just a vision.
I swam back again to my garden after shrugging my shoulders. "Illusion!..." I told myself.
But as I put on my shirt, and looked toward that direction just for a try, I saw the girl again.
She was standing at the same place, fixed her look at me.
And this time, she waved to me. A white hand, waving. Imperceptibly... but I was sure that
she moved something.
Then she waved to me again, this time very clearly. I could see her hand waving and waving...
You can laugh, but I was a little drunk that night, after the party. I swam back again to the
girl, for the second time.
I thought she was probably a ghost, and I would be able to see her, maybe talk with her,
and I would know the truth about that question. There's still no proof to show the existence
of ghosts, but there's also no proof to affirm their non-existence.
Once more, I got to the spot, and once more, the girl disappeared. I was very disappointed,
and a little angered.
I stood there, looking around... then I moved a little around, searching...
Then I understood.
The banana tree, and the moon!
There was a banana tree at the edge of that garden, and it was lightened when the moon
got out of a flowing cloud... then sunk into the shadow when the moon was hidden behind
another cloud. The banana big leaves, reflecting the moon light, gave me the vision of the girl.
And it also gave me a feeling of cold. I don't know if ever I meet a real ghost, I would have
that same feeling...

Dear friends - and Dear jazzie,
Just for you, to have a certain moment of relaxation... if you're not scared.
My ghost stories are not real ghosts, though they might be scary sometimes. But I have been
told of many real ghost stories from trust-worthy people. I will tell you some, when we have
the opportunity. OK?
Best regards,

THE STORY OF K'TE THE LAZY

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 16:06 EST

                                           The Story of K'Te the Lazy

(I told my friends V. and N. that I would tell them a story about a brave Chinese lady.
But as the story was too long, I would have to cut out a large portion, which I hadn't
done yet! So I wrote this in its place.)
                                                            ------

                                 In dedication to V, Nostalgia, c, and JAN.

In the Spring 1995, I had a mission in a mountainous area deep in one of the largest
forests of VN, called the "Three-Frontiers Area". I had two friends going along
with me, a journalist and an ethnologist, both ladies.
After two days staying in the Central Highlands, we moved far deep into the forest
and reach to the ethnic minority of Mah, one of the most noteworthy tribal minority
of VN. The women are mostly silent yet beautiful and all the children have deep
black eyes. And what did strike me the most was their sincerity and hospitality. Once
they believe us, they would never forget us and be so kind that we could hardly betray
them.
These people have a nice way of showing their hospitality. As they had been informed
in advance of our arrival, when we reached the forest's edge, in the dim light of sunset,
we heard the sound of a merry musical melody, played by specific instruments called
Gongs, like a warm welcome from that far-away hamlet. After two hours of drinking with
them their famous wine "Ruou Can" in a large Jar, we took leave. Twelve men, among
them some old men, ran up to the places they put their Gongs. Another melody raised
up, this time sad, sweet and desolate, as the men clapped to their gongs and danced
their gracious traditional dance, following the rhythm of the song to see us off. That
sorrowful and poignant melody followed us till the edge of the forest.
The next evening, the Chief of the district organized a party to greet us. A number of
those ethnic minority people were invited. That's when we met K'Te the Lazy.
He was famous in his tribe because of his laziness. In this land of old fixed traditions,
where the girls ask the boys to marry them at the cost of a number of buffaloes and
jars plus a span of land to cultivate coffee trees, he has not been asked till this day by
any girl, because he was very lazy, and all the girls might think he would let them die
of hunger and did nothing. So he was sitting there with his drink, silent and morose,
and replied by curt answers to some friends passing by, talking to him.
My friend the ethnologist is an excellent wine drinker. She could beat us all with drinking
wine. The more she drank, the more her face became pale and beautiful. So that night,
M., as she was called, had been drinking a lot and was a little bit drunk.
She saw K'Te The Lazy, and as she got a little naughty, she came up to his place,
"Hey, K'Te!"
"Hey!" K'Te replied, not deigning to look up.
"Why are you sitting alone like that, K'Te?"
"Hmmmm! That's it!" was all the answer.
Some people laughed.
"Would you drink with me?" M. asked.
"Why?"
"Because I love you!"
"Hmmmm!"
I came up, but M. was getting drunk.
"Would you marry me, K'Te?"
"Why?"
"Because I love you!"
People laughed, but K'Te remained gloomy and irritable.
"What would you request?"
"Uhmm... not much! five hundred holes to plant coffee tree, OK?"
"Hmmmm!... five hundred?"
For such a lazy guy as K'Te, to clear out a good land in the forest and dig 500 holes to
plant coffee tree was rather much!
I pulled my friend away, but she was really drunk.
"Yea! five hundred holes! OK?"
People laughed and laughed. I dragged her away.
"OK" The man replied, as sad and gloomy as always.
Surely, M forgot all of this, when she woke up the next morning. And we were setting
to do our job. But the following day, as she wandered by K'Te's hut, she saw him
digging earth vehemently. And working together with K'Te The Lazy was his brother,
also famous for his own laziness like him. There were about one hundred holes already
dug out in a plot of cleared forest land. K'Te the Lazy was not lazy at all.
M. was taken with fear. Those naive and frank people knew nothing about joking.
She came to me and asked me to leave, before things could become complicated!
I saw that she was really afraid. She is an ethnologist, and she knows about the ethnic
minority people. So I asked the District Chief to lend us three a car to leave early the
next morning.
I didn't know how K'Te knew that we're leaving. Perhaps some of his friends saw M.
prepare her traveling bag. But as the car turned round a hillside, we saw the man.
He ran along with us, leaping and jumping, at times disappeared behind shrubs and
trees, at times appeared on the hillside above us, waving and shouting!... I looked at M.
Her face was as white as a paper. After a certain time, we saw the man no more.

I dropped out that place, and chose another site for my job. It seemed that M. didn't
came back there during a longtime afterwards. I really wish all the people mentioned in
this story got all the best things!

À TOI ...

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 01:03 EST

À Toi...

Un soir, je me sentis si fatigué, quand je suis venu voir une de mes amies, que
je me suis endormi presque aussitôt. Quand je m'éveillis, je sentais à ma tête
quelque chose étrange, douce et chatouillante, et j'ai appercu que mon amie
me caressait les cheveux... Que c'est consolant! Alors je me souvenais de ce
poème de Rimbaud. Je le tape ici comme un tout petit cadeau envoyé à mes deux
amies, Lady Véronica et Lady Orchidée.

Pour leur lecture...
----

LES CHERCHEUSES DE POUX

"Quand le front de l'enfant, pleine de rouges tourmentes.
Implore l'essaim blanc des rêves indistincts,
Il vient près de son lit deux grandes soeurs charmantes
Avec de frêles doigts aux ongles argentins.

Elles assoient l'enfant auprès d'une croisée
Grande ouverte où l'air bleu baigne un foullis de fleurs,
Et dans ses lourds cheveux où tombe la rosée
Promènent leurs doigts fins, terribles et charmeurs.

Il écoute chanter leurs haleines craintives
Qui fleurent de longs miels végétaux et rosés,
Et qu'interrompt parfois un sifflement, salives,
Reprises sur la lèvre ou désirs de baisers.

Il entend leurs cils noirs battant sous les silences
Parfumés; et leurs doigts électriques et doux
Font crépiter parmi ses grises indolences
Sous leurs ongles royaux la mort des petits poux.

Voilà que monte en lui le vin de la Paresse.
Soupir d'harmonica qui pourrait délirer;
L'enfant se sent, selon la lenteur des caresses,
Sourdre et mourir sans cesse un désir de pleurer.

ARTHUR RIMBAUD

JOKES

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 00:56 EST

JOKES
To my new friends
Ladies Trudy, Ionita, Jan, Nostalgia, Janet, c, Muna, elen, Lhita and BlackBird
for some relaxed moments...
------

MISTAKEN ANGELS!
(Poor Arthur!)

Arthur rubbed the old lamp he'd purchased at a flea market, and sure enough,
a genie appeared.
"Thanks for setting me free," said the grateful spirit.
"Aren't you going to grant me a wish?" asked hopeful Arthur, who loves angel stories.
"Are you kidding?" answered the genie. "If I could grant wishes, would I have been
in that lousy lamp all this time?"

MISTAKEN IDENTITY!
(Poor Jan!)

At a party, my sister Jan withdrew for a while to breast-fed her two-month-old son.
A seven-year-old at the party, who was looking at her since some moment, asked
if she could go with her and watched with interest.
"Does milk really come out of there?" she asked Jan.
Jan convinced her that it did.
There was complete silence. Then the youngster suddenly asked,
"Do you eat grass too?"

MISTAKEN PURPOSE!
(Poor me!)

On my first visit to Singapore, I was descending a long escalator at the beautiful airport.
I put my heavy overnight bag on the step beside me as I admired the surroundings. But
when I bent down to pick up the bag, I missed the trap, over balanced and landed on
my backside on the moving step.
At the bottom, the escalator eased me smoothly onto the floor. An elderly Chinese lady
standing there was most concerned at this unorthodox arrival of the decently-clad
gentleman who was me.
To hide my embarrassment and reassure her, I hooped up quickly and laughed. Her
concern changed to surprised mock. "Just for fun?" she asked.

-----------

JOKES

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 00:43 EST

JOKES

To Ladies Sheila, HUGS and BABIE
for their laughs...
-------

DUE TO LANGUAGE OR WHAT?
(Received from my nephew on net. Just for fun. No hints!)

An Arabian was interviewed at the US Embassy.
Consul: What is your name?
Arabian: Abdul Aziz.
Consul: Sex?
Arabian: Six to twelve times a week.
Consul: I mean, male or female?
Arabian: Both male and female, sometimes even camels.
Consul: Holy cow!
Arabian: Yes, cows and dogs too.
Consul: Man, isn't it hostile?
Arabian: Horse style, dog style, any style.
Consul: Oh dear!
Arabian: Deer? No deer, they run too fast!

(Ha! Ha! Ha!)

-------

PLAYING WITH WORDS!

I was sitting on our home verandah, when I saw my 17 year-old little sister
walking out of the bathroom. She has just arranged and sprayed her hair
into a huge mess, style of a renowned rock singer - and was met by
my mother who has just come back up from the supermarket.
"What has you done to your hair?" Mom demanded.
"I've just teased it", my sister replied, smiling at her own smart language.
"Teased?" Mom snapped back. "You've driven it insane!"

-------

A TRUE STORY OF GHOSTS

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 22:43 EST

A TRUE STORY OF GHOSTS

     In dedication to my new friends
     Mai, Sally
     Jazzie, Yaqun, Shan, 迟, Rebecarebecu, Khaingsu
     and all my friends.

Ten years before, I was acquainted with a young girl, named V. , who was
teaching music in a local elementary school. After a certain time, I knew she
was a good player of Dan Tranh, a vietnamese 16-chord zither, so I had
talked with her about this subject a lot. She was very sincere, nice and gentle,
and we became close friends and she invited me to drop by her home and
see her, when I had time and opportunities.
One evening, as I wandered around and got tired, I realized that I was passing
close to her house, and I decided to come to visit her. But as the house was
located in a complex quarter with several crossing alleys, I had some
difficulty in finding it. Then I heard a voice calling my name "Here, Mr. Ly!"...
It was my friend, who was standing at the threshold of a small house some
30m away, smiling at me.
I told her jokingly as we're entering past the doorstep, "Your sixth sense is
excellent!"
She smiled with her nice smile, "It's no instinct! I do know you come."
I smiled back, and said with a clear doubt, "How's that?"
She answered, "I was playing on my zither, then one cord was broken and
I knew someone close to me was coming!"
I have heard about these cases when an musical instrument got its string
broken as someone was eavesdropping to it, or when some close people was
coming. So as we talked about this subject, I came to tell her about a poem
of the Chinese poet Li Pai describing a boat passing between two cliffs. It was
moving with a speed so great that the cries of the monkey on the two riverbanks
were just heard of within a second then passed out away.
I said, "When someone tried to play this poem on his flute, the tone was so
high that the flute was broken in two!"
V. replied, "Yes, but mostly, that is the melodies which can have such impacts.
You surely know about those old legendary musical melodies which could bring
forth birds... or bring about rains and storms..."
She looked at me, "Have you ever heard about the melodies which can bring
back the dead... I mean ghosts... the melodies that the ghosts loved and would
come to hear? I HAVE! I witnessed it with my eyes!"
So that late evening, in her cozy room, V. told me about the strange night, when
she witnessed some ghosts coming to listen to a kind of mysterious music.
Here is her story...

"When I was a student, I boarded a little house in a city of the Central Part
to attend my university classes. I was fond of playing Zither so I got a lot of
acquaintances among people like me. I knew a number of new things from
these people about techniques, anecdotes and legends of our traditional music
and instruments. Then I heard of that strange and mysterious woman who was
a master of 16-chord Zither and the famous monochord of Dan Bau of ours.
Rumors had it that her house was haunted, and every time she played her
monochord, she would draw the ghosts come to her house.
I tried to get in contact with her. It was not easy. But after a certain time, I got
her invitation to come to her home. I went there right away. Her house was
located in a deserted area, surrounded by thick bamboos. It had a gloomy look.
But when I entered her room, it was clean, cozy and nice. After some weeks,
when I got close enough to her, I asked her about all the rumor on the mystery
of her music... about the ghosts coming to hear her playing the Monocord.
She hesitated at first, then she told me that this house twenty years ago
belonged to a music teacher living alone and her mother was her best student.
When the lady died, she left her house to her favorite student. Then her mother
taught her that music and had told her not to play it in this very house, in the
nights of full moon, for there were ghosts who would come to listen to it.
She said pensively, "You know my dear, I have played this music several times,
not much, but not so few. I sensed that there were some invisible people coming
in here. Maybe you wont believe me, but among those who came listening,
there's a person, a woman, who always came alone, and I can sense that was
her, without any doubt. It seems I have some relation with that woman. Every time
she comes, I play my best for her, and I don't know why, I cry every time she
is here..."
I listened all that with much curiosity, a little sadness and a little fear... but I was
young and curious, as well as obstinate... ( V. smiled)... so I held on asking her
to play that music, and let me come to hear with "her" ghosts.
She said, "Ok, young girl, if you are not scared, come over here at Tuesday
next week, it's the 15th night of lunar year, and let's see if there's something
happen."
When the awaited night came at last, I went to the lady's home since nightfall,
bringing with me some food and cakes to share with her. She thanked me,
ate with me, and we had some talks with each other.
Then as midnight was drawing near, she lead me into her own sitting-room,
where she would play her music. She closed all the doors and windows, pulled
down the curtains. Then she lighted two big candles, burned some aloe wood
in the incense-burner, and put out all lights except these two candles. Then we
both sat there waiting, no one spoke a word.
When the wall clock finished knocking its twelve hours, she began to play her
monochord. It was superb. As it went further and further, the tune become more
and more sorrowful, yet very sweet. At a certain point I was lost in the sounds
of the music when I suddenly felt something happened.
I looked. The curtain was trembling, then slightly pushed aside, as if someone
was passing through it. I sensed very clearly that THERE WAS SOMEONE in
the room... as clearly as we can sense the presence of somebody, though we
dont see them, when they are close to us in the dark. Then I sensed that someone
was sitting down by my side, and I had a feeling of chill running across my spine.
I looked at my lady friend. Her face was as white as a paper as she went on playing
her music.
Everything was perfectly silent, except for the music. At times I thought I heard
some strange sounds as the sobbing sounds. As if someone was weeping from
a far distance...
Then the melodies come to an end. When the final sounds was still vibrating in
the air, I heard a long sigh, a long heavy sigh, sad and desolate, which made
all my hair stand on end! Then the curtain was trembling, and pushed aside.
Someone was leaving the room. I looked at my lady friend again. Tears were
running down her cheeks.
She seemed extremely exhausted. I wanted to stay with her that night. But she
thanked me and said she wanted to stay alone. So I went back home on my bike.
Then I was graduated, and I left the town. I had come two times to see her and
say good bye, but she was not in. I never saw her back again."

V. had told me this story. She is a real person, and this story is true.
If ever she read these words, may her know that I have been often thinking of her...

THE JADE HEART

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 13:42 EST

THE JADE HEART

There is an old legend in my country about a great love that was crystallized
into a heart of jade. One of our most talented musical composer wrote a song
for it.
This story is put in as a greetings to my new friends Mai, Sally, Hustuft, MEEH,
Ephyoe, Yaqun, Shan, ♥♥ βŜАŃŤ ♥♥, Bianca, Nicole, Carine, Kris, Lavinia,
LoVeLy_LaDy, Celia, Dianita, Jazzie and my old friend Matavee.
Once upon a time...

     "There was once a night,
     when all the musical instruments were chanting their melodies,
     and the flowers forgetting their withering time
     when the white clouds were flowing in search of their kins
     and the human heart was sobbing in its closed place of luxurious rooms."
       (song)
A beautiful Princess heard from her palace a distant voice singing a sweet
song. The voice was so nice, sweet yet so lonely that she took compassion,
then became fond of it.
     "There was once a night, listening to that song,
     she lovingly gave away her fragrant fan,
     sending her kiss to be blown with the wind to the one
     whose voice was hovering over the waves of the river..."
From then on, every night, she was impatiently waiting to hear that voice
singing to her the complaint of a love in life...
    "It sounds then it fades out, Strange Singer, your complaint that I am
     listening to now!
     I love you, singing somewhere on the cold river in the dark!
     Who loves me, sitting here in the sad palace, at this late hour in the night?"
Then she was sick, lovesick with the stranger who sang outside of her walls.
    "Missing you, with my secret feelings buried in pain,
     my eyelashes fade away, my hair languish like streams of tears
     and my lips lose their vivid freshness..."
Her father, that powerful Prime Minister of the Court, gave orders to find
the man and bring him over.
Then the princess saw the man, a poor and ugly fisherman, named Truong Chi,
and all her dreams crumbled. The fisherman was drawn away.
But that poor man, once he saw the lovely princess, who was the very image
of the girl we would all love, at any time within our life through centuries,
seeing her, with all her charm, her loveliness, her gentleness of a young heart,
he fell in love with her - with a profound love beyond all consideration.
    "There was once a night, on a solitary boat ,
    a man with a love that was denied and hindered by life,
    when would ever his sorrow and bitterness be over?"
Then one night, when the full moon was at its most radiant brightness, the man
let his boat sunk into the river. His heart, with all of its warmth and sincerity
of a profound love, was crystallized into a precious stone - a jade.
A jewelry artisan got that jade and sculptured it into a beautiful tea cup.
By a curious turn of circumstances or destiny, the precious cup was sold
to His Highness Prime Minister, who gave it to his cherished daughter.
    "How many years have passed!...
     How many pains have got faded!"
One night, a maid brought forth that cup to the Princess.
     "Here was the tray with the glass of Truong Chi's heart!
     For a tea party in that merry home of the princess...
     Just as it was poured in with water, an image was seen
     the image of a fisherman on his boat rowing round the glass!
     and there was heard from some distance a sad voice
     singing that old complaint of an impossible love."
and the Princess cried.
     "Oh you, what a worsening of love! I have formerly betrayed you !
     Let me repay you now with my tears as my last greetings to you!"
Her teardrops were falling into the cup, and it was broken into pieces...
     "Thinking of you who exist no more,
     Raising that glass to my lips
     and sending my love to that far away sky of yours
     I had let my tears fall onto your melancholic love song."
From generation to generation, this story has been told at bedtimes,
and has become a legend which brews so many songs, many theatrical plays
among our people.
     "Oh love! It has been paid! Someone has been loved by somone,
     Tears have been presented as a gift! The jade heart has been broken!
     Its pieces have been transformed into a song lulling my softened heart!"

Almost all people in my country know that story - The legend of Truong Chi's
heart of jade.
It is not a complaint as it can look. It's a praise to the worth of true love.

-----------

JOKES

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 09:26 EST

JOKES

To Little Tink Angel
      J@ckelyn, nody, Hugs, doubleH
      and all my friends. Relax!

                    ------

STUMBLED!

Late last year, two German young lady friends of mine came to see me
in my city.
We took a lazy stroll through some quiet streets of Saigon, then they started
to chat in their mother tongue while looking at the shoes of a woman who was
just passing by.
In order to take part in the conversation, I asked in our common English,
"Are you talking about that woman's horrible ugly shoes?"
"No," replied one. "We were just saying that they're exactly the same as mine."

I just bought an apartment and began repainting it.
I had applied the second coat of sunny yellow to the bathroom when a friend
dropped in. Proudly, I showed him over the rooms, commenting,
"I have to paint the bathroom first."
"I can see why," said my friend, "I'd paint it too, if it were that color."

My lady friend complained to me that her neighbors were practicing bird calls
with whistles. She said she had told them to keep the noise down, but to no avail.
So she was going to report to the police.
A deputy was sent to her house the next day. He located the source of the noise.
It was a bird.

AND SMART STEPS

As we kids always made a mess at everything in the house, my mother had to
work hard cleaning and cleaning. My father, who according to his habitude,
never did housework to help her, but he resented that. So one afternoon as she just
cleaned the floor and was cleaning other things, we returned home from school
and came charging into the kitchen to eat, my father said,
"Now, if anyone spills anything on the floor, they have to wipe it up and then
spend an hour in their room."
Without hesitation, my Mom deliberately poured some of her coffee on the floor,
wiped it up, and headed straight upstairs. We didn't see her again for an hour.

My sister-in-law admitted to being a less than fastidious housekeeper.
My brother was not so happy about that, but he got no chance to say it out.
One evening he returned home from work, walked into the kitchen and said,
"You know, dear, I can write my name in the dust on the mantel."
My sister-in-law turned to him and sweetly replied, "Well, darling, that's why
I married an University graduate."

AND FUNNY STEPS

It was Christmas and the judge was in a benevolent mood as he question
the prisoner. "What are you charged with?" he asked.
"Doing my Christmas shopping early," replied the defendant.
"That's no offense,"said the judge. "How early were you doing this shopping?"
"Before the store opened," countered the prisoner.

A woman drove a mini-van filled with a dozen screaming kids through the
parking lot, looking for a space.
Obviously frazzled, she coasted through a stop sign.
"Hey, lady, have you forgotten how to stop?" yell an irate man.
She rolled down her window and said, "What make you think these kids
are all mine?"

Maya

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 01:44 EST

                                          MAYA

                                    In dedication to
                                   my new friends:
                        Lady Mai and her friend Sally
                                   Lady DoubleH
                                    Lady Hustuft
                               Lady ♥♥ βŜАŃŤ ♥♥
           and my Indian Sister Megha and her friend Cali


I just read a story about the relativity of time, an old story from India,
that great cradle of our world's and Asian cultures. I like it and I want
to tell it, summarized, to you, all my net friends.

On one of those hot afternoons, the ascetic Narada is sitting in meditation
in the solitude of the forest, when Vishnu comes in the voice of the wind
which passes by and makes all the leaves quivered.
The God of Preservation of the Universe ( one of the Indian Trinity -
Brahma, Vishnu and Siva) asks him what he is looking for to be meditating
with such an endeavor in this deserted forest, and Narada replies
he wants nothing except to know the secret of MAYA - the illusory world
of the senses...
Vishnu tells him, "So be it, but go and fetch me some water."
The ascetic goes, and reaches the first hamlet. He calls out. A young girl
opens a door. Her voice is so sweet, it seems as if a golden noose
slips round his neck. Yet the occupants treat him as a member of the family
whom they have been long awaiting to return. He has been always one
of them. He has forgotten the water. He will marry the girl, and they all
expect him to marry her.
He has also married the earth, the warm rice-fields, the rising sun, the twilight
over the palm roofs, even the pink flame of the little dung fires in the night.
He knows all the people, from the acrobats to the usurer in the town with
their little common temple with infantile gods. He experiments all the pain,
sorrow and joy of living, the happiness in the time of prosperity and the
compassion for the smile of the thin children in the years of famine.
When his father-in-law dies, he becomes the head of the family.
One night during the twelfth year, the periodic floods drown the livestock
and carry away the houses. Narada flees through the avalanche of mud,
leading two of his children and carrying the third, and supporting his wife.
Then the child he is carrying slips from his shoulder. He lets go of the two
other and of his wife to pick it up again. These three are carried away in
their turn. Then as he is upright gain, he gets felled by an uprooted tree.
In the darkness filled with the roar of the sticky flood, he is flung onto
a rock by the torrent.
When he regains consciousness, he is surrounded by nothing but a sea
of mud through which there drift the corpses of trees full of monkeys.
He weeps in the fading wind. "My children, my children..."
"My child", echoes the voice of the wind become suddenly grave,
"where is the water? I have been waiting more than half an hour."

The man who shot Liberty Valance

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 12:55 EST

The man who shot Liberty Valance

I just came across an old country song "The man who shot Liberty Valance",
then another - "Sutter's Mill"... all about the West Journey in the USA's history.
It's the time when people rushed to that wild unsettled land of the West
for a promise land and prosperity.
It reminds me of a film that I viewed, long ago, and which i liked very much.
I'll try to tell it summarily, as i can, for you, friends of mine, and You.
Just for some moment of relax.
That was the old-timed famous film "The man who shot Liberty Valance"
by Director John Ford, starring , if I remember well, James Stewart,
John Wayne, Lee Marvin and the pretty Vera Mills. She was the lovely girl
that the two heroes of the story loved and cherished in their own way.
One was the young lawyer who came to try establishing a new order of law
and justice in that small town of Shinbone -... Ransom Stoddard.
The other was the taciturn cowboy Tom Doniphon, living there, but
moved away often herding the cattle to far meadows.
Ransom and Tom loved that gentle girl Hallie, but Ransom had more
opportunities. He boarded her house, taught her law and other things.
He was nice, young and handsome, while Tom was stoic, taciturn and harsh.
At that time, there reigned in the town the familiar law of the West - the law
of the guns. Ransom was confronted with the most dreadful man of the town,
the vile gunslinger Liberty Valance. He had been beaten once by Liberty,
then saved by Tom, who brought him to the town. He tried to put Liberty in jail
by law, and the latter tried to beat him down by his mastery of the gun.
... "When Liberty Valance rode to town
The womenfolk would hide,
When Liberty Valance walked around
The men would step aside
Cause the point of a gun was the only law
That Liberty understood
When it came to shooting straight and fast
He was mighty good!..."
(Song)
There was only a man whom Liberty would fear, that was Tom, but he was
almost gone away all the time.
So when it came to the showdown, that was just before the election between
the two representatives to the state senate. One side was the cattlemen
- they hired Valance - who feared a new law would confirm the right of
propriety and so would end the state of free land for herding their cattles,
and the other side were the townspeople who want to be protected by law,
supporting Ransom. The balance weighed down for the townsmen. Liberty
challenged Ransom for a gun duel, and he had to accept.
I loved this scene. It was the familiar amazing image of Western films,
the deserted streets, the dead silence of the town as everybody stayed
inside their closed houses, the two men facing each other in the afternoon
sun, and the sound of the wind whistling ...
Two gunshots were heard. Everybody rushed out. Liberty lied dead on
the ground. Ransom was cheered up as the hero who saved the entire town
from its threat. He was elected, became a senator and married Hallie.
I remember the scene when Tom heard the news that Liberty Valance
has finally been put down. While the crowd was noisily celebrating the death
of the wicked Valance, he looked angry, went out of his home, stroke a match,
lighted a cigarette, then went onto the main deserted street, and walked off
into the night. Some days after, he burned down the house he had built up
in order to marry Hallie and left the town.
Some twenty years later, I don't remember exactly, at the news of Tom's
death, the Senator Ransom and his wife came back from Washington
to attend the poor funeral of their old friend. And then Ransom told to his wife
and others the truth about that fateful afternoon, when he faced Valance,
gun in hand, in that mortal duel which decided everything for the town,
as for him and his girl at the time.
He told them he didn't fire a single shoot, he couldn't draw his gun as fast as
Liberty Valance and was not good to such a degree that could kill Valance.
Now that the real hero was dead, he couldn't keep any more the secrecy
of the whole story. Another man, not him, had shot down Valance, had saved
him and the town as well. And every body knew who was that man, especially
Hallie.
It was an excellent film, but it was somehow sad.

THE LEADER

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 11:22 EST

THE LEADER

To Great Ladies:
matavee, j@ckelyn, lola, hnady, HUGS
(Just for fun. No hints!... (smile)... Don't kill me.)

A man goes into a pet shop looking for extraordinary parrots.
The owner leads him to a stall, where he ranges a lot of cages
of his favorite parrots, which are also the most expensive ones.
"What does it cost, this lovely blue and red one?" the man points
to a lush-plumaged parrot which seems to wink at him.
"What a choice, dear Sir!" the owner shouts, "that's a female,
a wonderful one, Sir! You can have her with just 350 dollars
and each beautiful morning she will greet you with loving words
from four languages!"
"I don't want female loving words," the irascible customer said,
"They're never true! let's drop it!"
"How much this one? What can it do?" he points to another,
a luxurious red yellow parrot which is looking proudly at him.
"It's a treasure, dear Sir. This one will fill up your idle time.
He speaks five languages so fluently that he can talk with you
about a number of subjects. He costs only 500 dollars Sir.
A real friend, I can say that!"
"Hum," the customer cut off, "he will make me nervous with
his arguments. I don't want him. And besides, your two parrots
are too expensive!"
Finally, he points to a puny parrot which is staring at him with
undisguised scorn, "How about this little one? It must be much
cheaper!"
"God Almighty! No sir! I daren't say!... He's more expensive.
He will cost you 2000 dollars."
"What?" the customer rolls his eyes, "How many languages
he can speak?"
"None Sir! He can speak no language!"
"What?" the man is bewildered, "so what are his extraordinary
talents?"
"None Sir! He has no talent! He's a normal commonplace parrot!"
"What?" the man is very confused, "so what's the reason he is
so expensive, man? What he has in superiority among them all?
"Dear Sir! He doesn't need all that. He's the leader."

JOKES

Tue, 05 Feb 2008 17:44 EST

                        JOKES

To My little dear Angel tinker bell
      Ladies j@ckelyn, matavee, nody,
      rubina, lola, hnady, HUGS, ionita

                        ----

BIG CAREER

The School of Agriculture's admission registrar
was interviewing a prospective student,
"Why have you chosen this career?" he asked.
"I dream of making a million dollars in farming,
like my father," the student replied.
"Your father made a million dollars in farming?"
said the impressed registrar.
"No," replied the applicant. "But he always dreamed of it."

GREAT DAD

"My Dad got Prince Charles' autograph," a boy boasted
to his classmates.
"That's nothing," snorted another boy. "My Dad got
Adam's apple!"

FUR AND LEATHER

(Overheard)
"People are more violently opposed to fur than to leather
because it's safer to harass rich women then motorcycle
gangs."

UH!

A man walks into a shop and say to the owner,
"You probably don't remember me, but about five years
ago I was broke. I came in here and asked you for
20 dollars, and you gave it to me."
The shop owner smiles and replies, "Yes, I remember."
The man says, "Want to do it again?"

When Frank returned home from playing golf with his new
friend Fred, his wife Anne asked him, "Why don't you play
with Ernie anymore?"
Said Frank, "Would you play with someone who swears
when they missed the hole, cheated with the score, throw
their clubs around and move the ball?"
"I suppose I wouldn't," replied Anne.
"Well, neither will Ernie, " replied Frank.

A woman says to a bank manager, "I'd like to talk with you
about a loan."
"Great!" the manager replies. "How much can you give us?"