150428 Vinh Hy Harbour At first glance it all looks improvised and accidental – as if this life was invented just now. With time, however, the eye notices that everything has its place. At the spot on the water’s edge where the shadows of a mango tree and a palm cross each other, lies the centre of the village. People who sit on the red stools can help themselves to a small crepe with a sharp sauce – an array of syrups are available on the low table standing beside the blue stools nearby. In the harsh sunlight of the harbour basin fishermen in small round boats bring their nets out to their colourful cutters. Others exchange their neon pipes and tubes sitting in large numbers on the flanks of their boats – ready to lure the cuttlefish and octopuses of the South China Sea into perdition. When night falls one will see them gleaming out in the bay of Vinh Hay. And every boat has its place.
I am the only person here that knows not where he belongs. But one allows me to be lost, winks, giggles, offers me a crepe, and releases, with gentle pressure, the hand of the village-fool from my trousers. What luck that I’m free to simply stand here.
First Publication: 22-5-2015