Chapter 18 — The Bookmobile Through the Mountains

As promised, Mr. Than Quoc Vinh arranged a time to visit Nam Cay on a midweek day, accompanied by Nghi and Bao Yen, who took advantage of a few days off to go to the Van Thac highland to work on a reportage. The group departed early in the morning, Mr. Vinh sat in the district's official vehicle, while Nghi and Yen traveled with the familiar bookmobile.

The road to Nam Cay, as usual, is still bumpy and difficult to travel. The district's public service vehicle, which was not used to moving on such terrain, twice almost got stuck in muddy sections, forcing Mr. Vinh to get out of the car and walk a section, his shiny leather shoes stained with mud after only half an hour.

"The road to get here is so difficult," Mr. Vinh panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead, his eyes could not hide his surprise. "I didn't think the conditions would be that harsh."

"This is just the dry season," Nghi replied, his voice calm but not hiding his desire to emphasize reality. "During the rainy season, this road is almost impassable by any motorized vehicle, including motorbikes."

When the group finally arrived at Nam Cay school, Nam was waiting at the school gate, along with Ms. Ngan and a group of students arranged to welcome the special group of guests. But what immediately caught Mr. Vinh's attention was not the warm welcome, but a tablet kiosk that had been experimentally installed not far away, at the nearest commune center - one of the first pilot points of the digital library project that the district Culture Department had implemented a few months earlier.

"Can we stop by and see the pilot kiosk?" Mr. Vinh suggested, perhaps wanting to take advantage of the opportunity to personally verify the actual situation of both models.

Nam nodded, leading the group to the kiosk area, a fairly modern metal and glass structure that stood out among the surrounding simple village scene. But when they got closer, everyone immediately recognized the problem — the kiosk screen was dark, not working, a thin layer of dust had covered the glass surface, and the solar panel mounted on top was partially obscured by the encroaching foliage of forest trees.

"This has been broken for a long time, uncle," a resident passing by saw the group of people standing and watching, and immediately explained. "It's been about three months since installation. I used it for the first few weeks. Then it rained continuously, the battery didn't have enough sunlight to charge, and the screen kept turning off. One time, the kids in the village even tried tapping the screen to see if it would light up again, but it didn't do anything."

Mr. Vinh stood silently, looking at the dark kiosk, his face gradually changed into a complex shade - both confused and somewhat disappointed. "So the equipment supplier doesn't send someone to do maintenance?"

"It happened once, it was fixed for a few days, then it broke again," the resident replied, sounding somewhat depressed. "The road is too far, each time it's expensive for maintenance, they probably don't want to go up often."

Nghi stood aside, saying nothing more, letting reality speak for itself, just like what she and Nam had discussed before - no attack, no pressure, simply letting Mr. Vinh witness with his own eyes. Yen, standing in the back, quietly took a few photos of the broken kiosk and quickly took notes in her notebook, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of a journalist who has just found a valuable detail for the article.

The group continued to move to Nam Cay school, where Nam had prepared a special demonstration lesson. He let the students sit around the corner of the small bookshelf that Nghi and he had built together earlier, allowing them to freely choose books, read and share their feelings in the presence of Mr. Vinh.

Sung A Dinh, although not from this school, happened to follow his grandfather to visit an acquaintance near Nam Cay that day. He also stopped by to join, excitedly telling Mr. Vinh about the book on wild animal footprints he had read countless times, about his dream of becoming a ranger to protect his homeland's forests. Lo Van Pao also shared about how he is diligently studying with the Advanced Math book he borrowed, preparing for the upcoming boarding school entrance exam.

Mr. Vinh sat and listened, occasionally asking a few questions. His eyes gradually softened, no longer looking as calculating and searching as in previous meetings. At the end of the session, when the students had dispersed to play, he turned to Nghi, his voice lowered, taking on a completely different tone than the meeting at the district office.

"Miss Nghi, I have to be honest with you," he said, "I believed too much in the numbers and flashy reports from the equipment supplier, without ever actually setting foot in places like this. Looking at that broken kiosk, then looking at the children here passionately reading books, I realized I was somewhat biased in my assessment."

"I understand, uncle," Nghi replied, his voice sincere without any triumph. "I think both models have their own value, they just need to be applied in the right place, under the right conditions. Perhaps the digital library project will work better in areas that already have stable electricity and signal infrastructure, and in places like Nam Cay, mobile bookmobiles will still be the most practical solution for many years to come."

Mr. Vinh nodded, pondered for a moment, then spoke, his voice much more open. "I will include what I witnessed today in the report submitted to the hearing. I cannot promise the final result, because it depends on many other factors, but I believe, based on what I just saw, my opinion will definitely change significantly."

On the way back, Yen walked next to Nghi, her voice full of excitement. "You know, that broken kiosk is the most valuable detail of my reportage. There's no need to say anything more, just put the two images next to each other - one side is the dark kiosk covered in dust, the other is the children eagerly gathering around the corner of the book - readers will immediately understand what the story wants to say."

Nghi smiled, even though he was still a little guilty because he was "lucky" to witness his opponent's defeat right before Mr. Vinh's eyes. But she also understands that this is not about winning or losing personally, but about finding the most suitable and effective solution for the children in the highlands, and today, reality spoke for itself more clearly than any convincing words she could give.

Before leaving the school, Mr. Vinh lingered to chat more with Nam, asking about specific difficulties in teaching in remote areas, about what the school really needed to improve learning conditions for students. Nam took advantage of the opportunity and spoke frankly about the shortage of teachers, about the degraded facilities, and about the difficulties that he and Ms. Ngan faced every day, but did not forget to emphasize that, amidst all these difficulties, the mobile bookmobile program is one of the few resources that has been truly effective and persistent for many years.

"I've been here for six years, witnessed many working groups come and go, promising many things but not always coming true," Nam said, his voice straightforward but not harsh. "Ms. Nghi's program is one of the few that is truly sustainable, because it does not depend on short-term movements, but on a long-term commitment, on the trust that has been built over many years with each particular family and child."

Mr. Vinh nodded, jotting down a few things in his official notebook. His face now had a thoughtful look, completely different from the somewhat arrogant confidence that Nghi had witnessed during their first meeting at the district office. "Thank you, Mr. Nam, for sharing frankly. I will fully acknowledge these opinions in my report."

On the way down the mountain, even though her body was tired after a long day of traveling and working, Nghi still felt an indescribable excitement. She looked through the rearview mirror and saw Mr. Vinh's official vehicle carefully crawling behind, much slower than when going up, perhaps because the whole group was tired, but maybe because Mr. Vinh was taking the opportunity to take a closer look at the mountain and forest scenery that he had never had the opportunity to fully experience before.

Yen sat next to Nghi in the car's cabin, taking the opportunity to add a few final notes to the report, occasionally looking up to ask for a few more details to ensure the information was accurate. "I think this article will not just stop at the scope of the provincial newspaper, Nghi. Your story has all the elements touch the hearts of readers - father-son love, heritage, love in the highlands, and even a little gentle drama between two opposing models. I will try to complete the article as soon as possible, along with a few short video interviews with the children, which will definitely create a good ripple effect."

"Thank you very much, Yen," Nghi said, her voice sincere. "Without you, I probably wouldn't know how to make this story reach more people."

"This is my job, besides, I believe in what you are doing," Yen replied, smiling. "I just hope the article comes out at the right time, in time to create an effect before the hearing, to add another voice to support your program."

The car continued to roll in the sunset, carrying not only tired people after a long day, but also a new hope, sparked by the obvious truth that the whole group had just witnessed together in the middle of the Nam Cay mountains and forests.