Sidewalk stories

The first days I returned to Vinh, what I remembered most were the sidewalks of Hanoi. I remembered the cramped umbrellas, with street vendors, tea shops, and rows of fragrant roses, daisies... I remembered the rays of autumn sunlight slanting through the cold rice leaves, the purple-flowered lagerstroemia, and the Indian almond trees perched on the old brick floor. And, in the vague nostalgia of someone who once thought he had to belong to Hanoi, I was so happy to see a corner on a Vinh sidewalk that looked so much like Hanoi. That was the corner of Dinh Cong Trang Street leading to the roundabout - the intersection of Le Mao, Ho Tung Mau, and Nguyen Thi Minh Khai Streets.

There, under the shade of the trumpet vine, royal poinciana and lagerstroemia trees, there are tea shops nestled against the fence of the Viba Station and Nghe An Television Station. The tea shops with slanting rays of sunlight, old tables and chairs, shaded above your head, occasionally a few yellow leaves falling from the branches will land on the green, moldy brick floor at your feet. One of those simple tea shops is Uncle Huong's tea shop. He is a war invalid, lost a leg in the Southwest battlefield. He said, "I came to the sidewalk in 1986", starting with a table and small chairs, selling green tea and cigarettes. Then, more than 20 years later, the tea shop has "upgraded" to many more "products". In addition to green tea, there are also artemisia, sugarcane juice, some candies, sunflower seeds, etc. Mr. Huong said that thanks to this tea shop, combined with disability benefits, he and his wife have gradually raised two children, both of whom are studying at universities in Hanoi. "In the summer and fall, we still have an income of more or less than a million, but in the winter, sitting on the cold sidewalk, few people come here" - he said. However, every day, from 7 to 8 am, he goes to this corner to set up "it must be within the allowed line, otherwise the orderly will come to ask and remind all the time", then sell until 7 or 8 pm and go home. “Mainly office guests from nearby agencies, people waiting for appointments. But there are also many sad and happy stories. There are also people who come here, just to sit alone, saying it resembles a certain street corner where they used to sit in the past, like you often say it resembles Hanoi. Maybe those are people who like nostalgia. But I think, isn’t it better to love the present? To be honest with you, in the past, I also often had the disease of comparing the past. I always thought about the glorious past on the battlefield, the blood that was shed by me and my comrades… Then I got annoyed with the present. But isn’t it, life is getting better and better, the city is developing day by day. Coming here to see, right on this street, the years when I first came here to sell water and was still wild, now houses have sprung up close together, and it’s too narrow and crowded to become a one-way street. If I just stayed at home, I would probably die of boredom. But coming here, besides the idea of life, it is also a pleasure to see oneself "moving" with society.

The 55-year-old war invalid's confession startled me. Yes, why not love this present? Why don't I love this street because it is my Vinh street, not because it resembles a street I once knew somewhere. This sidewalk, isn't it inherently extremely lovely, why does it need to borrow the appearance of somewhere else? Aren't the vông trees, royal poinciana trees, and banyan trees growing on this land green? Aren't the flower seasons blooming for me, for the people of this street? So simple, a love that I've only just realized now?

Also on the sidewalk, I met “the oldest bicycle repairman in Vinh city” according to many neighbors. His name is Nguyen Danh Chinh and the sidewalk he sat on was a row of palm trees right in Nguyen Tat Thanh park (Truong Thi street). With a thin, austere appearance, wearing a worn-out army uniform, he looked like an old image of a city that was growing up every day. “Perhaps, he is the only one who refuses to change” - a friend of mine said so when leading me past the row of palm trees with the green grass glowing with the yellow of tiny daisies. The hardship weighed heavily on his thin shoulders, but it did not make him smile less. He chatted with us cheerfully, even when his hands were dirty with the broken chain of the old bicycle that the junk woman had just brought to him for repair. A broken inner tube stood with a hand pump, an old wooden toolbox beside a tree on the sidewalk, no need for a sign, just him sitting there with his almost white hair fluttering in the wind. And people knew, that was Mr. Chinh who patched tires.

This year, Mr. Chinh turned 72. After leaving the army, he returned to his hometown (Tan Loc block, Hung Dung ward), "also doing a few jobs to make a living before coming to this street corner" - he said. Then in 1982, he chose the job of repairing and patching bicycles, which he had been proficient in since his youth, and chose the then-deserted corner of Vinh street to sit. "Although it was deserted, it was the golden age of bicycle repair because back then, few people had motorbikes, let alone cars to drive." Still with this diligent and ascetic look, the old man went through the sun and rain, the seasons of palm trees and betel trees with moldy bark, while the city seemed to be getting "younger" every day, more prosperous, more bustling. I asked, if the city changed like this, there would come a time when he would lose his job. He mused, "I thought so, but behind all that glitter, there are still poor people." He said that his customers are mainly poor people, maybe street bread sellers, scrap collectors, poor mothers from the other side of Ben Thuy bridge rushing to take their children to the Obstetrics and Pediatrics Hospital for regular check-ups, "sometimes they don't even have 5,000 VND to pump up their tires". And many times he said that he doesn't take their money, even though he does this job to make a living, to support his 3 children and his constantly sick wife. "Working hard on the sidewalk, I earn seventy or one hundred a day. And I'm happy, I feel useful" - he shared. And like Mr. Huong, Mr. Chinh said that he gets to see the vibrant life around him, to chat and learn more about the people who make a living with him on this sidewalk, Mrs. An, Mrs. Tam who sell sugarcane juice, coconut juice in the summer, grilled corn and grilled potatoes in the winter, knowing which season the tree flowers and changes its leaves. “Trees are like people, they have love and hate, they are withered and they are happy” - he said that he has contemplated that, to choose to live happily, even though there are many hardships.

After 16 years of making a living on the sidewalk, Mr. Nguyen Van Thai was given an old stone table, he tied a mirror to the fence, made a long wooden chair and arranged a swivel chair, hung a small sign with the words "Haircut" written on it, and sat on the side of Le Nin Street, under the shade of a mango tree. He said he was a farmer's son, from the rice fields of Yen Thanh, and had lived in Vinh for a long time, but he was used to working, so even though it wasn't too hard, he still found a job. Moving to this corner after sitting on the sidewalk of Nguyen Sy Sach Street, he said he liked the cool shade of the trees here. His customers are mainly regulars, "there are people who have been cutting hair at my shop since I started working 16 years ago until now. Even those who are too old and can't come here anymore, they call me to come to their house. Maybe because I work carefully" - Mr. Thai shared "And this job also brings me a good income". He said, unlike many other cities where people fight for seats, and even have many problems happening right on the sidewalk, his city is different. He pointed to the motorbike taxi drivers sitting on his bench, waiting for customers and chatting: “There, although we all earn a living, living together is fun. My street is so crowded, but everyone gets to know each other. Once we go out on the sidewalk, we see each other as friends, brothers, and share everything. Even the police officers standing at the station right at this intersection are very happy. Every day when we can’t go out on the street, we miss each other.”

And so, the sidewalk stories go on and on, wide and wide. Here is Ms. Thong, Ms. Mai with her sleep right on the sidewalk of Tam Giac park after a half-day of cycling from Hung Nguyen to work as a porter or cleaner. Here is the purple-flowered Lagerstroemia tree on Nguyen Sy Sach street at the intersection with Phan Boi Chau, witnessing the story of "the last remaining three-wheeled vehicle drivers of the city", here is the street vendor from Hung Yen who chose a corner of Tran Phu street to sell clothes and at night she would lay down on the sidewalk to sleep under a mosquito net... Associated with the sun and rain, associated with the seasons of trees and flowers. And along with that are many contemplations about this life. They unexpectedly showed me a corner of Vinh city, different from the streams flowing on that street every day. Like a way of living slowly, beside the dizzying hustle and bustle. So that now, every time I go to Hanoi, I long to miss my street corner, long to miss the wide sidewalks with so many familiar faces ready to give each other smiles every time we meet.