Ngũ Phụng commune was once famous for its rice paper craft, with products even shipped to the mainland for sale. Now, it’s just a small remnant. In that village, only a few houses remain, along with the craft… At best, preserving a beautiful image of the village’s old-time profession.
The cassava harvest season in Phú Quý usually falls in January and February. At that time, cassava prices are low, so farmers select the best roots to cut, soak, then grind and sift into flour for making rice paper. “Only good cassava makes good rice paper. Back then, we sold by the ‘thiên’ (1,000 pieces), now it’s sold by kilograms. The price is a few dozen thousand dong per kilogram. It’s hard work, but there’s nothing else to do. We do it out of love to keep the craft alive.”
This job is very demanding — they have to stay up until midnight and continue making rice paper until noon the next day to catch the sun for drying. It requires many helpers, but hiring is too costly, so mostly family members do it. Sometimes, when drying the rice paper, rain comes suddenly, and the whole neighborhood rushes to carry the rice paper inside to protect it.
Ngũ Phụng commune has three hamlets: Quý Thạnh, Thương Châu, and Phú An. In the past, Ngũ Phụng was known almost entirely as a craft village. Every house made rice paper; every person was involved. During cassava season, the hamlets buzzed with activity—spreading batter and drying rice paper. Some families made it to sell, others to preserve memories from their parents and grandparents or for family use. That lively atmosphere is gone now.
Today, the cassava rice paper craft in Ngũ Phụng survives only faintly in a few houses in Quý Thạnh hamlet. It’s hard to estimate how many families still make rice paper; it’s rare to find a family that continues the craft continuously. In those alleys, amid sparse lowlands, you might see an elderly woman waving a bamboo stick to shoo insects away from the drying racks. Above the stove, the crackling sound of dry firewood burning can be heard as Ms. Thiện adds more wood to make the last batches of rice paper, exhausted. This craft may soon disappear, and the scent of rice paper will drift away into some unknown space, leaving only the locals to witness the changes of their homeland and feel the loss.
