The rustic bamboo bridges of the orchard countryside have long been deeply engraved in the memories of people in the Southwestern region as a distinctive cultural symbol of the riverine landscape. Bamboo bridges, or “monkey bridges,” spanning rivers, canals, and intricate waterways, represent a uniquely charming aspect of both scenery and daily life in the Mekong Delta.

In the past, rivers and canals were the economic lifelines of rural communities. Back then, when the countryside was still poor, bamboo bridges faithfully accompanied the homeland and became a familiar sight for rural people. From adults to children, everyone seemed accustomed to the gentle swaying and unevenness each time they crossed the bridge on the way to school or back home. “Even if the wooden bridge is nailed firm, The bamboo bridge still sways, uneven and hard to cross. Hard though it is, the mother leads her child across, The child goes to school, the mother to the school of life.” Perhaps that bond began the moment a child was born. The image of the bridge grew along with the mother’s lullabies through the years. And even when we grow up and travel far away, childhood images still follow each of us like precious baggage, binding emotions together and evoking gentle affection. When people think of the Southwestern countryside, they immediately imagine vast and fertile riverlands. Alongside monkey bridges, the three-plank boat also holds an important cultural place in daily life. While bamboo bridges are familiar to orchard folk, they often evoke fear in city dwellers—trembling steps taken lightly upon the “bare back” of the bridge, resembling the fragile legs of an elderly person. During the rainy season, rising waters flood canals and streams. Bamboo bridges submerged for long periods become slippery with algae and mud. Each time students go to school, one hand grips the bridge railing while the other tightly holds a small schoolbag, fearing a slip that might send them into the water and soak their notebooks.

That is the way of rural bamboo bridges—always simple and humble. With a few bamboo poles, some wild trees such as gáo, bần, areca, coconut, sao, or sến, along with turtle-vine ropes, forest rattan, and ferns, a bridge emerges beside the quiet flow of village waterways. Neither elaborate nor grand, the bridge blends into canal life, linking two banks so people may pass and connect with one another, day after day bringing moments of joyful encounters across village streams. The wobbly bridge adds beauty to the countryside where roads are divided by rivers and canals. When the water is shallow and the canal narrow, the bridge is compact, connecting both sides with a simple log. Where waters run deep and rivers widen, the bridge stretches across with many spans, forming a swaying structure over the water through countless seasons. Long bridges may have three, five, or seven spans, crossing canals whose banks lie far apart. Bamboo bridges often have an odd number of spans, as people leave the middle span above the deepest water so heavily loaded boats can pass easily beneath, dividing the river evenly into two parts. Situated within canals and streams, each bridge bears the unique character of gentle waterways, muddy channels, and rustic lands. Without mud on its surface, sun on its handrails, rain overhead, or water rocking its legs like those of an old man, it would no longer be the familiar wobbly bamboo bridge of the countryside. Each segment of the bridge is like a fragment of bygone years, leaving behind a dull brown hue imprinted with countless footsteps.

Concrete bridges have gradually appeared along rivers and canals, and bamboo bridges have slowly disappeared from many waterways across the delta. Today, it is no longer easy to encounter the image of a child learning to cross a bridge by sitting down and inching forward before mastering the art of walking steadily on a hometown bamboo bridge. How we miss those uneven bridges of the past through simple folk verses—rustic melodies filled with affection. We miss bright moonlit nights in the countryside, where rural youths perched on bridges, dangling their feet into the water, nudging drifting water hyacinths as gentle breezes carried a profound sense of peace across the homeland. Today, my homeland changes day by day, with many new and sturdy bridges rising to replace the monkey bridges that once connected both banks. Yet deep within village alleys, one can still find a few bridges stretching across to serve the people. It can be said that bamboo bridges are a symbol of the land and people of the Mekong Delta—rustic, warm, and rich in heartfelt affection.