When I pointed my camera at an elderly man relaxing on the roadside, he responded by raising his hand

Family of four on one motorcycle — Man relaxing on the roadside

I stayed right in the heart of Hanoi’s Old Quarter. The maze-like streets were lined with both tourist cafés and local shops, standing side by side in such a way that I couldn't quite tell which version of the city was more “real.”

The area around my guesthouse was filled with shops selling medicinal herbs and dried goods. Glass jars of botanicals lined the shelves, while roots and pods hung from the ceiling — their mingled aromas thickening the air until even the atmosphere itself felt foreign.

And yet, what truly captivated me wasn’t the strangeness, but the ordinariness. The man in the photo was part of that everyday scene. He sat slouched against a chair beside stacked sacks, not really looking at anything — not at me, not at the street. He raised his hand in a silent gesture, then let it fall again without a word.

The boundary between shop and street was barely there. Life spilled outward — conversations, meals, even rest — all unfolding in the open. And somehow, that openness had a calming effect. It loosened something in me, let the weight slip quietly from my shoulders.

Hanoi on Google Map

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