Ex Rat: Conversations Overheard

"Oh my god, that maid of mine..."

A rat peeks out from under calentia bush close to where a woman is lounging by the pool.
The woman tuts at web footage on her phone of photographers hounding Air France relatives, white with shock, as they arrived at the terminal to await news.

"How awful."

The pool guy looks up and smiles. The waitress in an ao dai has let a tray of bottled water slip from her grip and one has fallen and rolled into the pool, its slender neck bobbing in the breeze.

" How can they show these pictures, these people deserve to be left alone. Awful.
I can't stand to see people crying."

"Huh?"

The woman's husband lifts his head out of the rippling water, smoothing his hair back as he squints into the sun.

" What did you say?"

"The maid is stealing from us. There was money in the draw and now it's not there."

"Why are you leaving money in a drawer?"

"Why is she stealing the money? We pay her enough."

The man lifts himself out of the pool, his arms tanned, chest white. He nods to the pool man who is scooping dead leaves out of the water while watching the bottle bob.

"It's cultural."

The woman laughs.

"It's theft, pure and simple. Aren't these people Buddhists?"

The man too notices the mineral water bottle floating towards the deep end and he kicks his legs to make waves and the bottle lurches towards the side.

The pool man stops mid scoop when he sees the rat twitching under the woman's sun lounger. He smiles, wags his finger at it with mock admonishment then walks over to where the water bottle is now knocking against the side.

"You want me to fire her?"

"It's awful. The responsibility. She has children. What will happen to them? Is there a safety net here?"

To be continued...

Returned Both Ways [2] Hoi An

It was the right idea, a now tried and tested route; from long haul to short break; from moving around as much as we could to staying still, limiting need to beverage decision and the sugary dilemma of where to eat. Such sloth beguiled by willing hands paid at local rate; such was our jet lag we sank into neo-colonial roles and listened to the splash of pool water, the rustle of palm fronds and the chink of china on tiled tables; this was our mosaic for three days.

Hoi An itself wriggled at a slow pace unlike the jerky peristalsis of Saigon and the party people have made sure that this history has been ring-fenced; old timber protected from the tsunami of concrete pouring into the rest of the country. There is revenue in such preservation of course and nearby Danang is being cut up by rapid condo developments but there is also value for both visitor and expat alike. The pace of life has not entirely been kick started by aspiration; contentment exists as sometimes the status quo need not be changed.

Returned Both Ways [1]