I love Hanoi, but only in the winters
I saw a girl by the lake, with a drink in her hand and a beer next to her. A little while later, when I walked past her again, the drink was half gone but the beer was untouched.
Perhaps there was a a lover or a friend who used to come here with her. I should know. A sudden strong miss of someone in China.
A while back I saw some sharp kids strolling along suddenly stop at a street vendor granny. They didn’t buy anything but they seemed to be enthralled by her tales.
Reminded me of a tribute to Hanoi from a Chinese writer from a decade back.
“a city of spreading banyan trees along the streets, dilapidated government buildings, and vendors who do not have to run at rumors of the approach of chengguan ("urban management") officials. Strangely, when our landscape becomes dominated by high-rises, boulevards, expansive squares, landmarks, manicured lawns and neon lights, we become a bit nostalgic for the unpretentious old city where children could safely mingle in the neighborhood, vendors could hawk their wares loud and clear in the side lanes, and streets were shaded by the canopy of plane trees”