The journey of creating the Ba Giang conical hat

Come to Thong Nhat Ba Sang, hometown of the white leaf hats and golden silk. Durable and sturdy, thick and heavy. The white meets the rim, polished smooth with bamboo strips and pure white cord. This is the leaf hat of Thong Nhat Ba Sang. The leaf hats here are renowned near and far for their unique layers. Carrying the character of central Vietnam's harsh, windy climate. And the very spirit of the people of Phu Viet craft village. See, the rustic hat is different. The rustic hat only has two layers. A two-layer rustic hat, that's their way, they only make two layers but they press them tight. The everyday Phu Viet hat goes all the way through, it's solid all the way. The rustic hat might be a bit loose in places. It can carry weight on your head, withstand the rain on your head. But the rustic hat is only for wearing, the rain, it just can't take it. What's special is, wherever the hat gets worn, the bamboo shows through more. The everyday Phu Viet hat is different from that picture, they make two thin layers. So it's heavy, but a proper everyday Phu Viet hat of three layers over a few years becomes soft. That's why people love the everyday Phu Viet hat dearly. The leaf hat has been the pride of generations. Born and raised on this land. And for those far from home, still deeply in love with the craft I've followed since childhood. Around six or seven years old, you'd see people heading to school. Going to receive awards, some doing the weaving. It meant someone had to take charge of all the work. Mothers had to tell their children to help out. The whole village would work till about 11, 12. Some homes till midnight, and on rainy days they count right through the night. Phong Nhat Hamlet, Phu Viet, is just like this hat, children go to school. For instance, for my niece's child, I had to save a whole season just to send her to high school. So every household had to make these hats to earn enough for their kids' schooling. Please step into Phu Viet, rest your feet. Let the sun slip into the green shade. With rows of palm leaves bright and full. And a folk song carrying tender weight. A bright sliver of soul etched in memory. A hat-making village, bustling in rhythm, lives on in so many memories. Even as life changes, the people of Phu Viet still shave bamboo and stitch leaves, tenaciously holding on to the traditional craft steeped in hometown affection. If another hat-making village is it's mostly women devoted to the craft, here in Phu Viet, from old to young. Men and women alike are all skilled at every step of making a leaf hat. Making a hat, you see, is very demanding, many stages. The first step is shaving the rim. The frame has three layers, an inner one, a middle one, and an outer one. A hat has two kinds of rim, the fine rim and the regular rim. The fine rim is the best one, the lower rim. The fine rim must be made from young bamboo. When the small rims are all there, the rims can be evenly spaced. But anyone who irons the frame wants to be sure it stays stiffer, makes the hat stiffer too. Young bamboo is stiffer, a whole rim made from young bamboo holds up better. But first, you have to pick the right bamboo strips before loosening the ties. Once the ties are loose, thin them out, the old bamboo, if it's too thin, has to go. It can't be used for a hat, the hat would warp. The rim wouldn't be firm. Long ago, the hat makers of Ba Seng Thang Nhat village braved storms and crossed the sea to find the leaves. The leaves were brought back and dried in every courtyard and along the village paths. Hat leaves, green at first, turn white under the sun. Now, the hat makers in the village no longer have to journey far to find the leaves. The leaves are brought right to the village. To make a hat, the leaves must be flat. So the hat makers iron each leaf smooth. To iron, a cloth is dipped in water, heated over a fire, then gently pressed over the leaf to straighten it. To craft a beautiful, round, balanced hat, the maker uses a wooden frame with 16 ribs. Each rib has 16 even joints to set the hat rings in place. The hat rim is made from fine bamboo strips, carefully shaved smooth and even. Shaping the rim also calls for great patience and skill. It may look simple, but making a hat takes care, precision, and the coordination of many steps. Assembling the leaves is the final stage in shaping the hat, laying them over the frame. The leaves are layered, one end cut on a slant, and pinned to the hat frame with a needle. By the rim of a leaf hat, the people of Phung Nhat, Phu Viet, see themselves as they were in childhood, when they first knew the craft, learned it, and followed the experience passed down by their grandparents and ancestors. For the village women, leaf hats even follow them to their husband's homes, becoming their means of livelihood. To them, leaf hats are more than an occupation, they are the pride of every family and of their homeland. Artisans always put their heart into every hat, for it is both their livelihood and the lifeblood of the craft village. The people of Phung Nhat hope the hat-making tradition will endure and be passed down to future generations. This is our craft, child, and it's a hard way to make a living. When there's enough to eat, you can send the children to school. If you want a decent life, you have to work hard. If you have no money, they say your hands are clumsy, with money, you can manage somehow. Nowadays, it isn't even enough to live on. With this work, you can't rush things. You have to take it slowly, but the income is only so much. Now, though, it mainly relies on tradition. The main thing is passing it on to the younger generation, so the craft may continue through our children. Who comes to Phung Nhat, Ba John? Our homeland beneath white clouds, fragrant with poetry. Right here. The hat-makers of Phung Viet pass it down from generation to generation, through the love they've poured into these hats of our homeland. That love runs in our very blood, settled deep in the songs we sing. So that one day, if we stopped making hats, it would be nothing but longing and regret. Like forgetting something close, something dear. I reach into the bundle of dried leaves we sun-dried, steamed, and stored, because we had to dry them well, store them right, make sure they're ready when we need them for the frame. If the frame's good, dad keeps working until it's done. Because if you're my child, no matter where you go, when you come back, you just keep on making leaves. We have to have the big frames to hold the leaves, the big frames are what make our village ours. If some can be let go, fine. Though life keeps changing, the leaf hat is everywhere across this land. Shading the rain, the sun, for the hard-working women from dawn on. Easing the burdens of a life of endless toil and hardship. Still the old hat, adorning the gentle grace of Vietnamese girls. The pale rim shy and tender, gleaming with the memory of the countryside. Why don't you come back to visit my hometown, and help me stitch the very first leaves? Hands weave the leaves, hands pierce the hat, 16 rims, 16 moons rising.