The precious (Vietnam)

Some weeks ago, I was waiting for gyoza at an izakaya in Saigon’s Japanese town. I noticed a young woman sitting at the far end of the bar counter on a high stool, talking to the owner. It seemed like an interview. Other customers and staff often interrupted the owner, leaving the woman mid-sentence. But she maintained her poise, using the pauses to glance around the cafe, trying to absorb the place. Occasionally, something would catch her interest, and I could see half a smile forming before she returned to seriousness when the owner resumed their conversation. She had an elegant face, and I started to sketch.

Last weekend, a few alleys away from that shop, I was looking for dinner. A boy at another izakaya called me and tried to explain the food in English. He was struggling to communicate as they usually hire for Japanese language skills in these parts. I heard a voice in English. I turned to see another employee. She calmly explained the menu to me. Surprise!!, It was the woman I had sketched a few weeks earlier.

I unlocked my phone and showed her the sketch I made weeks ago. I expected her to kick me for my amateur depiction. Instead, she borrowed my phone and went around showing the sketch to all her colleagues, beaming with pride at her new celebrity status.

You can travel half the world, but there is no point if you can’t make a girl smile.