I never pass up an opportunity to reflect on chò nâu and its dipterocarp relative, cây sao. The massive trees that gracefully drag bare limbs upwards to unfurl canopies far above our heads were brought from their native highland terrains by the French in the 19th century and grown in Thảo Cầm Viên Sài Gòn. From there, they were distributed throughout colonial developments, including Trà Vinh. Today, they not only provide shade and beauty but invite ruminations on legacies of nature's place in subjugation and self-determination.
Image via VnExpress.
Upon first approach, the rows of sao encircling Ao Bà Om call to mind the curtain wall of a fortified castle. But the imposing lines of trees are simply meant to beautify the surroundings as conceptualized by French aesthetics.
The manmade pond long predates the trees or French colonialists, however, with Khmer legends explaining it was the work of a group of women besting a contingency of men in an ancient competition to establish marital traditions or naming conventions. In an inspiring fable about female work ethic, they succeeded through diligence while the men got drunk and frittered away the night.
Photos by Paul Christiansen.
While many Khmer remain in the area, the locality is Vietnamese territory, as it was once French. The sao trees here, of course, have no concept of this, just as they have no awareness that they were not “designed” for miền Tây. The gnarled roots that swell, angle above the soil and make them so popular for social media photos underscore the fact that they did not evolve for these conditions. Such growth in their native land would result in them getting blown down in a windstorm.
Yet, the trees thrive here in Trà Vinh, and add immense value to the city, while instilling pride in its citizens. Their treasured place in the community is exemplified by what is happening now that many of the trees are growing old and dying. The government is planting new ones. Fragile saplings supported by wires and junk wood braces now grow beside the towering trunks.
During my visit last week, I observed a group of Khmer having a picnic beneath the old trees; a site that their descendants will hopefully enjoy too thanks to these new trees. The nationality of the hands who planted the sao trees should make no difference to the comfort offered by their shade. I wonder if the Vietnamese enjoyed them the same way when the French controlled the area. Perhaps it is true that we must defeat our oppressors before we can appreciate their art without guilt or anger, but the art crafted by nature far exceeds what humans can create.
[Top image via Lao Động]
