morning rituals

saigon.

the sun rises above the horizon and you are awakened not by the cock crowing nor the chirping of the birds, but the cacophony of honks from the mass of motorcycles and vans on the road. as the city awakes, roadside stalls start to set up, serving up vietnamese coffee (iced or hot), warm baguettes with your choice of pate or meatballs, or vermicelli. vehicles pull up to the roadside and stall owners have the baguette sandwiches ready beforehand for their regular customers. others sit on squat stools around tiny fold out tables and enjoy their coffee while watching the hustle and bustle of the morning traffic. you, the foreigner, observes this ritual with much interest and attempts to take part in it as well. you sip on the ice cold coffee and enjoy the sweet sensation and the bitter aftertaste. you have been initiated and you think you could live like this every morning. a motorbike carrying two huge blocks of ice, one between the rider's legs and the other behind, pulls up to the curb. you find this fascinating. the rider hauls on block onto the ground and drags it along the walkway to where the stall owner is. you look at what used to be a cup of iced coffee, now a cup of ice.