I walk down the 1/2 mile small gravel path down a large hill to the main road from my hostel/hotel/resort. It's a nice situation to sleep in a $6 dorm bed in a prison like room of metal beds and wake up and wander over to the resort like pool setting with a breeze, tables with chairs, mood music and couples sitting pool side sipping smoothies.
Lining the gravel path there are ladies selling fish from sheets along the sides of the street. One says to me in English? "You want? You buy?" I mumble back, no, sorry, wish I could, sorry. They look like they would make a delicious paella. Plus, I'm sure it would cost $1 for the whole sheet full. There's also fruit stands with herbs and onions, beer and bottled water. Bags of chips and tourist brand shampoos.
I'm at the main road and the cross the street where my Banh Mi lady awaits....she charges me local prices. 15,000 Dong for an Egg Banh Mi. Today there's a wait. A van of locals is across the street and the old woman with the triangle bamboo hat is working as fast as she can. 4, 5, 6, all going into a bag as more mopeds line up for their regulars and I stand by and watch happily enjoying the feeling of being part of something normal. Everyone waits the same together. For a moment we are all equals....waiting for our Banh Mi Breakfast sandwiches. A young women appears from behind me, she asks in perfect English what I ordered, then how much I paid. I'm a little startled as this has never happened before. She tells me it's a good price. The van of locals had sent her over to check and make sure I wasn't being scammed (a very regular occurrence here to be charged 5 or 6 times the local price. As it is, I know I'm paying double.) she smiles and walks back across the street. As the van pulls away, a few women wave at me thru the back window. I feel a little tingle of something...warm fuzzies?...what is it?
She fries my eggs, then adds the pickled veggies, cuts some fresh cilantro, adds a black sauce, some chile sauce, then wraps the sandwich with a used receipt paper from a restaurant, a rubber and places it in a plastic bag. I give the money to the young boy next to her who looks a little perplexed at me....I don't know why, something else I've gotten used to, looks of
concern or frustration or just plain old misunderstand. Communication is super tough beyond "hello, 1, 2, goodbye, thank you" and all the body language. I was looking for a bathroom a few days ago and after not verbally clarifying bathroo,, washroom, toilet, I broke out in interpretive dance for the waitress, trying to look like I needed to pee badly, but I kind of accidentally added some graceful hand motions for dramatic effect and she got even more confused.
So, with warm piping hot Banh Mi in hand I walk the block plus long alleyway to the beach. Russians are walking their morning walks. Some are playing volleyball. Chinese woman are walking with umbrellas. There's a little Chinese girl in full body suit running to and from the waves in pure joy as her parents look on smiling. She seems to have more fun running from the waves then running into them.
I eat my sandwich on an old tree stump watching the little craps peak in and out of their holes in the sand in front of me. They sit for a brief moment out of doors and then, poof. Gone! I watch couples walk by. I watch older men in sneakers with darkly tanned skin and swimming shorts run by. Of course there's also the ocean swishing in and out. I listen and eat and think about all of it. Everyone all on this beach together from so many places, all having gotten up early to enjoy this moment before the sun hits and the heat blooms and the kite surfing shops open for business. Before the wind picks up and the waves become angry. I dig a hole in the sand with my feet. It feels good to have my feet covered in and sand. I hitch up my skirt to walk thru the foot high water as it pushes onto the beach, foamy and sleepy and sinks down again. I smile at the little girls parents who are laughing amongst her shrieks of joy as she runs away and runs back in. I know exactly how she feels. Maybe all of the grown ups on the beach are feeling that same urge, to shriek with high pitched joy smiling from ear to ear at the playful game the ocean plays with our feet....is it gonna get me? Nope. Not this time....oh wait! AHHH!!! Whoooosh!
I plop my sandy feet into my sandals and walk back to the alleyway. It's piled with trash....junk food bags and red wrapping paper....that's right...it was Tet.
It's only been an hour since I woke up and I'm already feeling like being here is one of the most special things I've done as a calm and a peace of ocean waves and happy kids and kind thoughtful locals who smile thru van Windows makes me want to share all those happy moments.....so there you go!
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