In the late afternoon, inside a small alley on Nam Chau Street, Ward 11, Tan Binh District, Ho Chi Minh City, there is a small pushcart selling noodle soup that many people whisper to each other is "made in Quang Ngai ".
That's the noodle cart of Mrs. Le Thi Hue, 61 years old, from Duc Pho town, Quang Ngai province.
She recounted that in 1995, when her youngest son was just 20 months old, she decided to leave her impoverished village (Duc Pho district) and move to Ho Chi Minh City to find a livelihood. Back home, she had "secretly" learned how to cook the distinctive Quang Nam-style noodle soup, so when she moved south, she decided to make a living selling noodle soup from a mobile cart. She's been selling noodle soup since the days when a "cheap" bowl cost only a few thousand dong, and now it costs around 25,000 dong, or 30,000 dong if it includes pork sausage. In total, she's been "attached" to her noodle soup cart in this area for almost 30 years.
Ms. Hue always cheerfully prepares hot noodle soup for customers. (PHOTO: TGCC)
She said, "Back then, people from Quang Nam province who left their hometowns to make a living in Ho Chi Minh City, like me, had to go around the neighborhood and alley selling noodle soup to be 'proper,' what people commonly called... 'noodle soup sold by tapping'." The tools used to sell noodle soup by tapping around the alleys were just two small, round pieces of wood. The person tapping would hold the two pieces of wood and tap them together, making a "clunking" sound. She hired people to tap the noodle soup around the alleys. On evenings when her children weren't in school, they would help their mother and go tap the noodle soup.
With a gentle smile and the characteristic cheerful tone of the people of Quang Nam, she said, "Selling noodle soup now isn't as strenuous as it was more than a decade ago. Sometimes, regular customers who want a hot bowl of noodle soup call me and I'll deliver it to their house. It's less tiring, but sometimes I feel like something is missing. There are times when I sit selling and feel a pang in my heart, suddenly longing for the feeling of hearing the tapping sound, the 'clack, clack' sound of two pieces of wood hitting each other, the sound of those who have been selling noodle soup far from home like me for decades."
Many regular customers visit Mrs. Hue's familiar noodle cart every afternoon to enjoy a hot bowl of noodle soup. Some have been loyal customers for nearly 30 years, like Mr. Nguyen Van Dung (a worker from Phu Yen province) who said, "The taste of Mrs. Hue's noodle soup is truly authentic Central Vietnamese, from the rich and unforgettable seasoning to the spices, bean sprouts, chives... all originating from Central Vietnam..."
Most of the regulars who come to eat the noodle soup at her stall come from all walks of life, rich and poor, but the majority are students, laborers, or night-time street sweepers and scrap collectors.
She recounted that for decades, she had countless times sold her food "for free" or on credit to impoverished people struggling to make a living in the dark of night. Sometimes it was a cleaning lady who forgot her money, sometimes a poor old woman collecting scrap metal at night who didn't have enough money for a bowl of noodle soup, and sometimes it was someone stranded at night who had lost all their money. Some people would order a hot bowl of noodle soup, slurp it up, and only realize they'd forgotten their money after checking their pockets. She would smile kindly and say, "It's okay, come back another time when you're free and pay me later."
Our conversation was temporarily interrupted when her phone rang. It was a regular customer ordering two bowls of noodle soup. Putting down the phone, with nimble, professional hands, she prepared the two bowls of noodle soup as requested by her regular customer and took them away…
She said, "To get a delicious bowl of noodle soup with a flavorful broth that suits customers' tastes and has a unique and distinctive taste, especially for regular customers from Quang Nam province, I have my own secret when seasoning and adding characteristic spices from my hometown when cooking noodle soup. Every time I go back to my hometown, I buy and bring back these characteristic spices from my hometown to keep..."
On busy days when she sells out early, she doesn't get back to her rented room until almost 11 PM. But on slow days, especially during the rainy season when the streets are deserted and there are few customers, it's common for her to trudge back to her room alone in the middle of the night. She says she tries to sell everything, hoping that customers who are out late will stop by for a hot bowl of noodle soup.
For the past few years, especially since the pandemic, her noodle cart has seen much slower sales than before. Sometimes, she only sells a dozen bowls in a single evening, resulting in reduced profits. But she hasn't given up her cart or her profession because selling noodles is in her blood, her livelihood, and the source of income for her entire family.
When I asked her, an elderly woman living alone on the streets, if she was afraid of danger or criminals, she smiled gently and said, "My life has been difficult, making a living with this noodle cart for decades. I'm sure bad people know that I don't have much money, only a few pennies. But I guess God is merciful, because I've been selling at this familiar street corner for decades and have always been safe and sound, only meeting good people who care about me."
"I haven't let my profession down, and my profession hasn't let me down. Thanks to this noodle cart for the past few decades, I've been able to support my husband and raise my children, providing them with an education," she expressed. Her eldest son and second daughter have graduated and been working for many years now. It's also thanks to this noodle cart that she's been able to care for her husband and her elderly, ailing mother back home. And, thanks to this noodle cart, after decades of making a living in Saigon, she's been able to build a more solid house to protect them from the sun and rain.
She said that having sold noodle soup in Ho Chi Minh City for decades, she had become accustomed to renting a room there. Whenever she had to return to her hometown for a memorial service or to care for her ailing elderly mother for about ten or fifteen days, she would intensely miss the city. She missed the poor neighborhood where she lived and was cared for by others, and she missed the familiar spot where she sold her noodle soup from her pushcart in the alley where she had lived and earned her living for more than half her life…
With eyes brimming with the determination and faith of a woman from Central Vietnam, from "Quang Nam province," she said, "I will try to stay in this land, stick with this noodle cart, with the profession I've chosen for decades, until I feel I no longer have the strength to sell. Because selling noodles is my life, my reason for living."
Thanhnien.vn
Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nuoi-con-an-hoc-tu-xe-hu-tieu-go-made-in-quang-ngai-185241007084710822.htm
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