By Andy On The Go

Some Huế mornings are so gentle you can hear a leaf fall. I stepped through the old wooden gate of Lan Viên Cố Tích to the faint scent of lotus tea. The garden opened: green, quiet, tiled roofs mossed over, old ceramic jars lining the path. She appeared: small frame, bright eyes, a slow, welcoming smile.

A hot cup of lotus tea, a plate of Huế longans, sweet lotus-seed dessert, a palm fan for the summer heat by the Perfume River. I knew this conversation would stay with me for a long time. I first met her through Tùng—an architect friend in Huế, introduced by Hưng. She guided me room by room, pointing out each artifact and telling its story: a chair from a mandarin’s home, a plank bed once kept in a timber house by the An Cựu River, ceremonial garments once seen inside the Imperial City. When she spoke, it wasn’t information—it was color, fragrance, the hush of a time still alive.

From the upper floor we looked over the garden. She showed me a pine gifted by her mother from Sa Đéc, speaking of it like an old friend. On the veranda, she opened Huế for me: dawn bells of Thiên Mụ, afternoon winds skimming Tam Giang Lagoon, people quiet and steadfast like the Hương River itself. She spoke of artist friends—those who’ve left, those who remain—each name a face, a smile, a gaze. Of my yoga, she teased I’d need a corner here for a handstand.

Then books. The ones she’s written, like Letters to My Child—not only poems of Huế and longing but whispering letters for anyone who knows how to love. She read a passage on the “warmth of human breath”—the trust and shared caretaking that keep a life upright without waste or excess. Listening, I felt her patience and the way she holds language like a small treasure. Culture, to her, isn’t a display case, it’s a living current needing daily tending.

Evening in Huế drifted like the river outside. At the gate she handed me Huệ Tím; “Violet Huế”and Đốt lò hương. “See you soon, Ân and Hưng,” she said in that soft Huế lilt. I knew I’d return for lotus tea, river pottery, and stories of the people she loves so the soul of Huế she keeps could rest a little deeper in me.

Sài Gòn, 15.08.2025