Hi, I am Dương
My name is Nguyễn Ngọc Dương. I was born in 1998 in Phu Son, a small village in Lao Cai Province, Northwest Vietnam. From our house, every direction is green mountains covered in cinnamon trees — some so old and thick that I cannot wrap my arms around the trunk.
A Childhood Shaped by Cinnamon
Growing up, cinnamon was part of everything. After school, I would take the family buffalo out to graze on the hillside. Along the way, I picked up cinnamon seeds that had fallen on the dirt paths. When I got older and braver, I climbed the trees to prune small branches — what we call “quế chi tiêm” — and sold them to local traders. They use these branches in traditional medicine, cutting them into small pieces to improve blood circulation and relieve cold symptoms. For me, it was just pocket money to buy notebooks and pens. That was how I earned pocket money.
As a teenager, I helped with the harder work: collecting seeds from cinnamon fruits, nurturing seedlings in small nursery pots, then carrying them up the hillside to plant one by one.
And then you wait. At least seven years before a tree is ready to harvest. Seven years of patience for a single crop.
How Harvest Works
When a cinnamon tree is finally harvested, its bark is carefully peeled by hand — and the tree does not survive. That is the nature of cinnamon farming: you give a tree seven years to grow, you take everything it has, and then you start again.
But nothing goes to waste. The bark becomes spice and medicine. The leaves are boiled to extract essential oil. The wood is used for building or firewood. Every part of the tree has a purpose.
Drying the bark is an art in itself. If the sun is too strong, it damages the essential oils and lowers the quality. So on hot days, we move the bark into the shade during peak heat and bring it back out when the sun softens. It takes three to five days of careful attention to get it right.
What Cinnamon Means to Us
In our village, cinnamon is not just a product. It is the foundation of our entire community. Families have built homes, educated their children, and transformed their lives through cinnamon farming.
But the reality is complicated. Our village only got reliable internet a few years ago. Many families do not have bank accounts, much less access to international payment systems. When traders show up and name a price, most farmers have no alternative — they accept whatever is offered.
Large companies have also established operations in the area. They provide employment, which matters. But they also set the terms. Farmers become dependent on prices they have no power to negotiate. The hardest labor stays in the village. The real value is captured elsewhere.
Why I Started This
Like many young people in rural Vietnam, I left for the city. It has been years since I last harvested cinnamon myself. But the memories are still vivid — the early mornings on the hillside, the smell of fresh bark, the weight of bundles on my back. Those experiences never left me.
I found work in e-commerce and learned how products move from producers to consumers around the world. And even in the city, the same thought kept coming back: why can we not do this with our cinnamon? Why should our village depend on traders when the tools to reach global consumers already exist?
That childhood dream never faded. It only grew clearer. I want to bring our cinnamon — the same cinnamon I collected as a boy — directly to people around the world.
I understand that turning raw cinnamon bark into a retail product involves real costs — processing, quality control, packaging, certifications, shipping. The price difference between farm and shelf is not all exploitation. Much of it is legitimate.
But I also know that if farmers could capture even a little more of that value, it would change lives. So I built this website myself, and I started selling our cinnamon directly to people who appreciate where it comes from.
The Dream Ahead
As this grows, I plan to do it properly — registering a business, obtaining food safety certifications, meeting international export standards. I want Vietnam Cassia to be not only authentic but fully professional.
My larger dream is to one day establish a cooperative in our area: a place where local families can process and sell their own cinnamon products, earn fair prices, and build something lasting. I want young people like me to see a future in the village, not just in the city.
I know I am young. I know this is small. But I believe that someone has to try.
What I Promise
- 100% real cinnamon from our village in Lao Cai Province
- Honest descriptions — I will tell you exactly what you are getting
- Fair pricing — premium quality at prices that also support our farmers
- Direct communication — message me anytime on WhatsApp, I will reply personally
- Continuous improvement — proper certifications and export standards as we grow
— Dương Nguyễn, Phu Son Village, Lao Cai Province, Vietnam