The rain forecast is hanging in a tree

Ho Chi Minh City in the rainy season. I went to the hospital in the morning, finished my errand, and stepped outside. The sky was a bit overcast, but I thought it would still be alright. Just as I started walking with that thought, I found it.

Blue, green, pink, purple — hanging from the trees along the street. These are colorful vinyl raincoats for motorbikes. Sometimes a biker rushes to buy one when a sudden squall hits. It's just a flimsy vinyl product, but having even one on hand really saves you. Living in Ho Chi Minh City, this has become a kind of little weather forecast for me. When a raincoat vendor appears on the roadside, it means the rain is about to come. It's the city's own rain sign. But at that time it still hadn't started raining, and while clinging to the hope that I might somehow be able to get away with it, I was out looking for a restaurant. You see, I was absolutely, ravenously starving! The place I stopped by was a chicken rice (okowa) shop. In Vietnamese, it's called "Xôi gà.

In front of the shop, a big pot is full of glutinous rice. Beside it, shredded chicken, sausages, quail eggs, and offal simmered into all sorts of dishes. Every time an order comes in, the staff's hands never stop moving. They scoop the glutinous rice onto a plastic plate, top it with the fillings, pour on the sauce, add pickled daikon and carrot to cleanse the palate, and put on the lid.

Just watching their skillful hands at work is enjoyable in itself. Perhaps because it's a shop that's even been featured in the Michelin Guide, there are many foreign tourists too. The only table in the small shop, set out front, is completely full. Well then, let's do as usual—get it to take away and eat it at a café somewhere. With that thought, I set off on foot with my xôi in hand. Lately, though, more and more cafés in Ho Chi Minh City have started banning outside food from being brought in. Especially in tourist-heavy areas, just as it used to be, if you just ordered a drink, you could openly bring things in. But now, 'no eating or drinking' illustrations are posted on doors and walls. That freedom has gradually stopped working. We're standing at a turning point in culture. Since there's nothing for it, I walk around holding my Zoigas. Drip. Drip. I knew it would come. Those colorful raincoats from earlier were right after all. As the rain grew heavier, a cart suddenly blocked the front of the sidewalk. A banana seller!

To avoid the rain, they've driven the car right up onto the sidewalk. Just then, a woman from the neighborhood came in to buy something, and she's chatting with the shop owner about something or other. They're both laughing away. It's hard to tell whether it's taking shelter from the rain, shopping, or just casual conversation. The line between them isn't really clear. It's somehow such a nice scene that I almost ended up buying bananas too. No, wait. That's not it. I'm just hungry right now. And in my hand, there's still a zoiger I haven't eaten yet. This is no time to be buying bananas. And then the rain finally turned into a real downpour. Oh no, I can't take it anymore. I dashed into the first café I spotted. If they refuse to let me bring outside food in, I'll think about it then. But this place looks like it should be fine. Everyone around me is openly spreading out bags of nuts and banh mi on their tables too. I ordered one of those flower teas that have been trendy lately (no sugar), Finally, we open the lid of the Zoiger.

I thought it might have gotten cold from walking around so much, but the styrofoam container kept it nice and warm. On top of the sticky rice, there's plenty of shredded chicken. This time, since I also added organ and egg stew, it came to about 40,000 VND—roughly 240 yen. The savory aroma of fried onions. And there's more pickled vegetables inside than I expected. Just when the sticky rice and meat might feel heavy, This sourness lightens things just right. Though I was hungry, I feel quite satisfied. Outside, the rain continues falling. On my way back from the hospital, I bought sticky rice. I walked around looking for a place to eat. Halfway there, a banana vendor blocked my path. At a cafe I happened to stumble into, I eat lunch while thinking about the route to my next destination. The rain shows no signs of stopping yet. Just that kind of afternoon. Ho Chi Minh City in the rainy season won't let you walk straight to your destination. Those detours turn out to be surprisingly interesting. Expat Life Ranking