Getting soppy

This morning I went to Hang's house as I did this time last month to help her and her neighbours to prepare food to give out at a local hospital. I took a taxi at 6.30am and found myself getting emotional looking out of the window and trying to absorb the surroundings that I will be leaving behind in two days' time. The narrow streets and tall buildings, the dark webs of telephone lines, the stacks of red pastic stools set beside peeling yellow walls, the faces of people drinking coffee on the streets, and even the motorbikes; this is the scenery I have grown to love and will soon feel millions of miles away from.

I had pulled myself together by the time I reached Hang's home in district three; it was nice to see her again. The boxes being prepared this month were rice, beancurd and vegetables served with a hot, oily plastic bag of sweet and sour soup. I helped at various points on the amateur production line that was assembled on the street outside the house, but I did struggle with the strain of sitting on a low stool in a cramped spot, leant over and working at a fast pace with the sun on my back. Hang could see I was tired and set me to the easy task of serving the food parcels from a makeshift stall set on the back of a row of motorbikes to the street workers, elderly people and children who approached us. Later I went with a few others to the same hospital in district five we visited last time to hand out some of the 750 meals that had been prepared. The experience was slightly tainted by the suspicion of Hang and her friends that a nurse who had taken a box of twenty meals to deliver to bed-bound, disabled patients had in fact taken them for the hospital staff; Hang thought the food should go to the patients and not the staff, but there was little she could do. Her friends seemed disappointed; "Charity is difficult," said Minh.

I spent the afternoon back home, working on my PowerPoint slides for tomorrow's presentation. I spent some time working in the cafe at the end of my street where I indulged in a Ca Phe Sua Da (iced Vietnamese coffee with condensed milk), one of my favourite culinary discoveries. In the evening I met up with Gretchen at Crescent Mall for a farewell dinner at Boomerang, an Australian/international restaurant. She can't attend my leaving do tomorrow as it coincides with her school prom. This farewell dinner was not at all emotional, as yesterday's with Yvonne, Jessie and Jasmine was somewhat; it was a nice, casual meal and a last chance to hang out together.

However, I got a little emotional again at home after Thuy had come to my room to present me with a little gift she had made for me, the second thing she has made for me on her sewing machine in recent weeks. I feel really close to Thuy, particularly so in the last six weeks while Jessica has been away, and I will be so sad to say goodbye to her.