My ankles swollen from the prolonged flight created a chain that clasped against my wretched legs; each step weighed a considerable amount, as I dragged the suitcase that carried the small fraction of me into the unknown. Alike to a baby and their blanket, I clutched onto my sister’s arm as she pushed the trolley. Various noises enchanted my ears; loud motorbikes zooming past; crowds of people conversing with occasional bursts of laughter; and the patter of children’s sandals scattered around the exit. I glanced over to my mum bearing the heavy backpack upon her shoulders as her eyes darted rapidly taking moments on each face, searching for any recognition of family members. I strained my eyes to focus on the features that was blurred due to the distance I was at; it was then when several hands started to appear, waving. My eyes began to glisten as I could distinguish the vague figures into people I had seen in pictures, my family. A warm feeling overwhelmed my body, trickling excitement across me; yet nervousness grew within my mouth that made me clench my teeth rigidly against each other. The pace quickened, steps became faster, faster, faster. A smile was stretched and plastered onto my face. I saw a cousin of mine, his features dark, his skin tanned from the searing sun, however still with a smooth complexion, still at a youthful age of twenty-three as his face appeared young. He gave a fleeting look to me, his eyes in deep comfort he said to me “Em cần trợ giúp không?” the words resounded in my head, I was struck with surprise, I had been incredibly used to hearing the standard English. He extended his arm towards my vibrant red luggage and lightly lifted it away from me, as he pointed towards the distance. I glanced in the direction of his hand, and I saw more people approaching. My aunt came first, with crystal tears gathered in her eyes, yet she was beaming with happiness. She stepped closer to me, staring at my eyes, nose, mouth, as her hands caressed my cheeks in affection, exclaiming how much I’ve changed. I lifted a smile, uncertain of the words I needed to express. I saw her as a stranger, someone unfamiliar, touching me, holding me, speaking to me.
I greeted my family, countless kisses being placed upon my cheek alike to small stamps of approval; they embraced me so tenderly; yet despite all the affection that surrounded me, and how welcoming they were, I felt awfully secluded as I stepped out onto the streets. A warm thick humid blanket in the atmosphere enraptured me, stifling the breath in my lungs. The cool whisperings of summertime breezes to my skin that I had been well acquainted with, would become a sensation I longed for but would soon forget. My family were large and I was showered with questions, but my tongue felt twisted and knotted as I tried to unravel it. I felt under pressure to impress them with my use of Vietnamese, however found great difficulty translating my words into Vietnamese. I was able to pull through the brief introductions with simple comments, but felt disappointment at my weak grasp of the language, as I felt it would taint the connection that I had with my family.
I felt mute on the journey from the airport. We rode in a large 10 man taxi, followed by a number of relatives on motorcycles. We whizzed and snaked through the traffic as a torrential rain broke out, travelling through busy streets filled with bright lights and shop after shop that sold anything and everything, from cute cuddly plush toys that were hung all around the entrance of the shop, to filthy motorcycle tires. The streets were truly buzzing with life, my eyes felt overwhelmed with all the strange and wonderful sights, there was simply too much to take in. I saw the city lights gleaming out to me, like arms pulling me into the new lifestyle I was entering. The rain made the experience more alive as I heard the loud beeping of horns and clothes being switched into bright water coats. I sat in silence, in awe as the people in the taxi nattered around me. 
I arrived to the main street that was a market; we stepped out of the taxi as our relatives hauled our heavy suitcases out. I could hear the hustle and bustle of people selling vegetables, soups, bakery as the strong smell wafted into my noise sending a growl to occur in the pit of my stomach. I was hit by astonishment, as I was taken back after realising that people were still working in such wet conditions. My cousins treated me in such luxury as they held an bright blue umbrella above me it contrasted with my surroundings as it was rather dark and the only light that was given out were from houses and shops. I was driven back to feeling inapt. The eyes of the people stood fixated upon my family as we were not recognisable nor wore the same clothes they did, as we carried our luggage.
We were heading towards my aunt’s house, weaving through narrow alley ways, with tall houses looming over us with great large gates bolted for security. We carried on walking stepping into puddles whilst the rain dispersed into small patters, avoiding motorbikes that drove past us. When we reached the house, there was a wide metal pale green gate that blocked me from seeing most of the house. I waited whilst my aunt took her key out to unlock the gate, I heard merry tunes playing from people on bicycles, cycling by wit basket full of goods, using it to lure in customers. As the gates opened we stepped onto a small porch where a washing line was held up along it, with tall exotic plants sitting at each end. I peered up to take a greater glimpse of the house I was to stay in, there was a balcony and windows, the structure slim but elevated. Once I stepped into the house, with the gate totally opened, the house felt rather exposed, displaying all possessions as if there was no divide to cut out the world outside, the complete opposite to England. They kept the doors wide opened most of the day to let in some air as a large fan upon the high ceiling span above us. Long dark brown wooden seats were placed on the sides of the pale cream walls to reduce heat being absorbed, A large fancy display cabinet was the centre of the attention in the living room as it held the Television, pictures, small figures and various other items that must have had sentimental value. My eyes seem to be captivated by the spiral staircase that lay leading up to rooms. We went a few streets down towards where my grandparents live, passing children playing football on the dirty roads and watching their parents working at the market, their clothes were quite tattered from playing. The sun was scorching down onto us, roasting me slowly, the heat was overpowering, sweat trickled along my face. I wiped it with the side of my hand. Once we entered my grandparent’s house the room was quite dim, yet incredibly ventilated, the heat that had accumulated in my body diminished quickly. My mother had always taught me the common courtesy within Vietnamese families, I crossed my arms together and bowed lightly, formally addressing each family member, firstly greeting the woman that opened the door with “Chao Bac”. My family seemed to have known her, yet I couldn’t recognise her, her face was rather plain yet her height was exceedingly small as she was merely just above my shoulder.
After the meetings with family, my ventures into the city began. It was night that my cousin, Anh Minh, I had met at the airport, introduced me to a diverse side to Vietnam on a motorbike. My mother earlier had called out precautions and ordering him to take care of me, as it became a significant moment of hers letting me have freedom; as she was used to keeping me at home most of the time; due to the dangers of London.
The motorbike sent a fresh cool breeze that gently brush past my cheeks, the strands of my hair flowed into the air like a river. The journey made me feel alive, yet small tremors of apprehension emerged as I was not used to such a open, exposed form of transport, no doors, no roof, no windows. We held a conversation discussing the life I was leading England, whilst having continuous stares from people on other motorbikes, without even a flinch in their eyes. I looked away towards amazed, realising how the streets were filled with workers, students, families, lovers that weren’t seen in daylight often as the heat is tremendous.
I was engulfed with such a sight, as the night life whizzed by me. We paused several times at the traffic lights, and I took a glance over my shoulder, slightly moving my metallic silver helmet upwards; my nose began to inhale a luscious aroma. I turned my head towards the direction to the smell and found the source, there was a small stall serving hot noodle dishes on the streets, the steam rose with a strong smell of spices as the woman was making the dishes, taking the noodles out with a large filter spoon. There were groups of friends and families on a few small plastic tables and chairs holding wooden chopsticks devouring their food. As the light turned green we sped off, I held onto my cousin, we passed other grand exotically decorated bar/restaurants. These venues almost every night I had stayed in Vietnam, were overflowing with people.
No comments:
Post a Comment