The Grab ride home was an easy one. I left the building after the late night movie shift, took out my phone and worked out the address with some taps on the screen. I knew where the guy was taking me very well, even though the strong graffiti design on the driver’s helmet diverted my attention sometimes, and my heart throbbed a few seconds while the motorbike accelerated freely on the highway. The Phasa Thai language on street signals and billboards guided me home, which only a year ago seemed to me like festive ornaments on a Christmas tree. Gigantic BTS skytrains roofing over my head, I wouldn’t blame them for veiling the sky. “Yellow seats, solid handrails and alone time on books and music. Khop-khun-kha on the speakers gets me easily dancing to. I’m only meters from Saphan Taksin, one call away from you.”
Chao Phraya River emerged in full bloom from the kingdom of lights, taking form of long hair streams gently rocked by ferries and boats. I extended my wider look to the river, mind racing as much as my travels across Sai Gon River to Thao Dien back in my home-from-home Ho Chi Minh City. The dazzling lights of Asiatique and IconSiam are equivalents to those sparks flying from the neighbourhood of Dist. 1, Dist. 2 and Dist. 7. And just as I was exiting the overpass, China Town embraced my ears with distinct dialects, sending all my senses into motion at the same rate as a ride in the endless buzz-filled Thu Thiem Tunnel. I featured myself in that scene from Perks of Being a Wallflower wherein I was wired to stand on the motorbike seat and inhale all the breezes under my skin. Everything that were ‘could have been’s, now became 365 ‘have been’s.
2019 flashed before my eyes every time I crashed a hidden alley in Bangkok. Bits by bits it lay open lively sequences of my life movie, untangled among the fog of insecurities. I am thankful to have kept myself grounded over the last year still. Each and every single day I keep telling myself, from now on, there’ll only be better days.
It all started from the day clear communication of wants and needs is no longer a taboo.
…and the spirit will just live on forever. In words. In pictures. In love
It has been a long relationship with words and solitude. I highly doubt there will be any better emotional release than running through your feelings with words — to let your emotions penetrate your fingertips and to conceptualise scattered thoughts. Every line and choice of word is an internal struggle to set free confusion in my head, and all the things that have caged me for the past years of being unheard. I wouldn’t be without care to diagnose myself with depression, yet I bet those disorganised meals, lonely home and romanticisation of suicidal thoughts must have squashed me at some point in time. Now my one-room rented apartment is where I turn to when I’ve decided to call it a day. I have words and solitude to keep me company, and creativity would just come along.
Someone telling me it made them feel better reading what I’ve got to say, that would light up my day. I guess I still play in team eventually.
I tried to run away from Hanoi, but then the city seems to have a way with her rebellious son.
I go to school in Hanoi. I go to work in Hanoi. Every time I go past Thuy Khue on my way to the office, I subconsciously know the clock is ticking down for my stay, and so I naturally dial up my love for the city.
“This is gonna be our year”. And just by that Hanoi endearingly chains me to many more strings. My Hanoi moments are collaged into those familiar faces I share cool things with on a regular basis.
These ‘purple minions’ charmed me into the competition to be more kind-hearted every day. Giggles were often heard through classroom doors. How contagious happiness could be! Every work station and every face screamed optimism loud and clear.
In other cities, I find myself easily falling in love with hard raves and reckless fun — here’s to all those silhouettes of tall buildings that promise future, and all those networks that ensure defining moments. Hanoi, nonetheless, with its light touches of sluggishness wrapped under the wings of run-down infrastructure, succeeds in storing most of my memories. I’m emotionally attached to sleepless nights carefully planning for my next destinations, then in the morning losing it all to the irresistibly inviting Pho Hue, Quan Thanh, Thuy Khue and all. Not in anywhere else did I talk about the past and think about the future as much as I do in Hanoi.
There comes Mẹ, one of my best friends. She wasn’t born in Hanoi, but she tried her hardest to rid me of unhealthy remarks from my hometown and make sure we got by well amidst hustle and bustle of this ever-changing city. She’s that person I mention in almost every job interview. When asked about a major achievement I’ve ever had, I’ll just casually bring up our friendship and how it lasted us through escapes, poverty and stereotypes. Her mentality transitioned from a responsibility bearer to a human being with flaws and perseverance. I always find it rewarding to be there and grow up with her all along.
Taking mum abroad for the first time in 2019: Check
I’m no expert at Hanoi-ology, nor do I come close to exhibiting what they call the real indicators of a Hanoian. I’m happy in a way and confused in a way, that anywhere I’ve been to, I constantly search for differences and similarities of the place in comparison with Hanoi.
I quit reaching places for the sake of getting there while alternatively training to be more attentive to detail over time. Spontaneous occasions might present people and things that contain a rich wealth of knowledge in the form of moments. Moments happen, flee and happen, living the ebbs and flows of moments themselves. Those tiny incidents can carry wholesome experiences, which by no means allow for quick glimpses and hasty conclusion but deep time and immersion.
I will then go back to Hanoi with such incredible inputs, and we’ll figure out some ways to elevate our cultures from there.
When I was younger, I had this little fear that adulthood would only play down our ability to marvel at things. But at the end of the day I gotta come to terms with the fact that maturity does go along with less surprise at things. That’s a bitter truth, which, however, will never be whole without something sweet. As adults, we are now a bigger accumulation of experiences, so much so that we spot familiarity in most places and grow bored of the predictable. Maturity encourages us to seek things that are more uncertain, to find courage among challenges, and to boldly face uphill battles for greater achievements.
Quan Thanh, Hanoi, Dec 2020. Enveloped by the homely atmosphere of a nostalgic nook cafe harking back to the 1900s.
That was a good start for a morning discussing year in review. We made a promise to gather our nerves and jot down authentic words about 2019. So here I am actually jotting down my private thoughts, while our swift strolls around Tay Ho are still wrapping my head.
Turns out I could be brave and in a sober mind to put things straightforward. Guessing game is no fun really, ‘cos actually no one was born mind-readers in relationships with whoever that is. It’s funny most of us plainly act upon our guesses, set up a pathetic play in our head and assign those who care about us with a fixed set of characteristics. That night there was a little boy crawling cold and happy under his blankets, recalling over and over how many times he’d failed spectacularly in understanding his people a bit better. He had finally resisted the temptation to be a hypocrite for the first time.
“Why are you so kind to me?
Because you let me.”
Dinh-Long walked Mia, me and my mum out of the UN building on Rajdamnern Nok Avenue after lunch. ‘I can see you working here someday. Ready for some surprise visits?’, said my mum, who for the first time set her foot in an international office setting. I gave her a nod and a grin as a response, yet without a firm yes or no. I was content that after all this time, she got to breathe in some fresher air and dream of going places with or without me. Never before had I been able to spend a whole year with her since I entered college. I would normally go somewhere for a month or two, and then come back with some other ideas on where to go next. She revealed that it wasn’t easy for her at first, but it got easier through practice as my uni time is coming to an end. The more we talk about it, the more we’ve earned ourselves ‘appropriate’ excuses to hop on more trips together.
A few days ago I got a mail notification. It said that I was shortlisted for a phone interview with a good company in Singapore. I called Mum and played a calm tone of voice. No matter how much I told her that I was only initial steps into the hiring process and there was not much to say for sure at this point, she immediately pulled off an idea of exploring the island to the fullest.
“Everything will fall into place eventually, son”.
Just when I realised how close friends we’ve become, I came to value the fact that most of those who I befriended with in 2019 are so much older and wiser than me. Fear of missing out does get to me whenever I think of my surface-level presence at school and what I would be if there were more peer pressure around. Yet I believe the baby perk here is to be more comfortable in my own skin and stay true to myself. Last weekend I came home overjoyed from a Christmas party at an older friend’s in town. I talked to those artsy academia and had fun with those laid-back personalities, just to later go back home and discover that they also hold major positions in their industry. These kinds of acquaintances have taught me the essence of professional networking skills. First of all, be interesting and interested on a human being level.
“Next Station, Mo Chit”
Mum and I dragged our compact luggage out of the BTS station, down the staircase and arrived at the airport bus station. That was the third transport stop for the morning, but the last one for our 5 days in Thailand. Khop-Khun-Kha was the catchphrase my mum held dear to her heart — she managed to shop in local areas with a drop of that simple thank-you. The woman got all basic know-hows around the city, telling exactly where our hostel was and which highway led to Pattaya. My Google Maps, bus app and head-start youth could only beat her in the first few days, then soon gave in to her street smart wisdom at Chatuchak Market.
As soon as the plane took off, my mum resigned herself to the gleaming display of the city from above. She refused to talk, leaving me with my half-finished book in hand for the rest of the flight. She looked like a carefree kid in awe of anything that popped up outside the window — the cloud, the stars, the wing of the airplanes and the crowded lanes in every city we flew through. I breathed a sigh of relief to know that we have come this far not to only come this far.
Welcome to Noi Bai International Airport.
“So we’ve touched down already?”
“Just to rise again for the next years to come.”
