LOCATION: TraQue WaterWheel (Hoi An), Vietnam
It all started with a pack of curry powder and five spice. "It's a gift for you" , she said in her semi-polished english at the central market before we would go off farming, cooking and riding water buffaloes. Slowly but surely, the future memory of her was leaving its tiny indents on a subconscious all too caught up on plucking seaweed out of the lake behind the water wheel, for the sole purpose of placing it in soil to act as fertilizer. She had quietly transformed from a figure whose aura hid under a traditional rice farmer's hat and a heather grey knitted sweater, one that made me wonder if she was burning like an oven on the inside, to a young lady with a grace and beauty that caught me way off guard. Following interactions would lead to her "sisters", joking on whenever we would be seen with each other. After taking a polaroid picture of her sisters, as well as one of herself, one that turned out way too dark, they had invited me to drop by the next morning for some tea and some coffee. In reality, I knew they wanted for me to continue flirting with their sister.
Oddly enough, before I packed up after eating an amazing meal that I had a hand in preparing, all thanks to Ngan herself, I was glad I hadn't booked the tour to Cham Islands that I was contemplating on taking when I had arrived at my homestay in Hoi An. At some point, my intuition had already decided that my best move was to come back and get to know this girl a little bit more.
My feet neither disagreed nor hesitated. The next morning I had set off an hour post greeting the sunrise, on the very path Ngan and I had biked through in order to get to the TraQue vegetable village the day prior.
My biggest fear was how i was going to convey certain thoughts knowing that the channel of communication wasn't as straightforward as I would like.
Alas, there we sat, under a rotating fan that tried its absolute best to provide a chill background on a scorching Vietnamese morning. Hian, one of her "sisters" brought me the famed ginger-lemon basil tea that had razzled my taste buds twice already.
She spoke softly, emphasizing certain words and phrases with an upward vietnamese twang to her speech.
I loved it.
We talked about her family. We talked about her hobbies. At one point I had called her "Saint Ngan" after she mentioned that she had spent time helping the kids of her local village find company and comfort. She laughed. She had told me that she had even set up dance competitions with music that she got off youtube in order help the kids in her small village to have fun and be happy. It tore away at me when she told me that she earns a mere $150 USD in a month, a salary that is actually a reflection of many Vietnamese workers earned wages. What even made it harder for me to digest was that she worked 12 hours a day, rising from 6 AM and would work through usually until 7 PM, every single day.
It provided some relief when she had said that she likes what she does, and thats the reason why she's able to endure such work hours. I mean, how else could one even justify such a lifestyle if he/she didn't find some comfort or happiness within it. She also mentioned that "days off work" are a rarity in the Vietnamese work schedule, and that her longest vacation ever was a mere 3 days in duration.
As the conversation went on, I couldn't help but think about how much I've overlooked my own personal "freedom".
It is times like this where we learn how to place perspective on aspects of life that we take for granted. It is a quite common conversation topic between travelers to discuss the standards of "vacation time", sometimes forgetting that some people just don't even have such a luxury of a "day off work". I know, for myself, it would be a grim reality knowing that work was all there was to life itself, and that I would be void of simple acts of leisure, such as going to the movies or hanging out with friends. In some way, I realize that maybe despite my attempts to understand and detach myself from a superficial way of living, I am still quite spoiled.
So in return, I just wanted to tell you a story about a girl whose smile serves not only as my fondest memory of my short stay in Hoi An, but also as a subtle reminder that the persistence of beauty resonates even through the blanketing presence of struggle and sacrifice.
A story about a smile that the world deserves to see more often than it does.
If you're ever in Hoi An, drop by the TraQue Water Wheel Restaurant and take a moment to say hello to such a wonderful and welcoming staff. And if you have a chance to meet the very girl whom I've simply wrote madly about, consider yourself to be very lucky. Tell her "ban dep" in your best Vietnamese impression, and watch the corners of her sun flushed cheeks give way to quite the spectacle for any set of eyes to lay sight upon.
Not only because it would mean the world to her, but also because it would also mean the world to me.
Ladies & Gentlemen
I present to you
Ngan Kim, The HOA (flower) Of HOI AN
-PASSPORTkenny