badminton. what a wonderful sport. i had the privilege of taking two badminton courses when i was in high school. somehow i slipped through the cracks. you see, you had to take two physical education courses in your junior and senior year. i choose badminton twice.
the thrill of smashing a birdie. lifeless drop shots that deflate your adversary. shuttlecocks flying in all directions. what a wonderful sport. i was invited to play badminton this saturday morning. i’ve noticed many games taking place randomly around the city. people tie nets between signs or trees and go at it. we have street hockey, they have street badminton.
one email i received said that i was to meet my badminton competition at 6:30 in the morning. the other said 6:50. i awoke at 6:15 and dressed. oh, i was excited. i could imagine running around on a sidewalk swinging deftly at the birdie. the eyes of the vietnamese would open and they would all proclaim, “oh, the american is a wonderful badminton player!” we would all be taken out for fresh lemon juice or maybe coconut juice with ice. it would be wonderful. i walked outside to wait.
outside the city was already bubbling. people seemed quite awake for 6:30. i stood in the threshold of the narrow alley that stretched from my apartment. i stood behind a wall so all of the oncoming traffic wouldn’t stare. there was an old man selling lottery tickets across the way. he stared at me frequently. 6:40. the old man was brought an iced coffee by a young girl. she smiled and said something while quickly walking away. 6:50. ok, i was too early but no worries. they’ll still be coming. i kept thinking that my promptness was a true reflection of my culture. if someone said 6:30, they meant 6:28. if you arrive late you must come with many excuses and apologies. 7:00. the traffic flowed by in neat patterns. there was a light up the road and it would let a rush of motorbikes pass. there would be a pause as the light would change. this went on and on and on. the little girl brought more coffee to another vendor further down the street. the old man kept looking at me. 7:10. a bug bit my ankle and i thought, only for a brief moment, that i had contracted malaria. maybe the dengue. it was fleeting. 7:15. now, this was getting on my nerves. they might have been late, but this late? 45 minutes standing in one place looking quite out of place. 7:30. ok, i’ll wait until the next rush of motorbikes passes. it did.
i ambled back to my room and fell asleep. before i slept, i remembered a conversation with ms. hà. she said that ms. phýõng was sick and wouldn’t be playing badminton today. i told her i was emailing someone else and that he was going to pick me up. surely this game of badminton didn’t hinge on the health of one person. the guy i was emailing said surely they would play. he didn’t say anything about ms. phýõng. ms. hà insisted that because ms. phýõng was sick there wouldn’t be any badminton. i refused to listen. i was arrogant. just another lesson to learn.\
well, i stood on the corner of the street for an hour this morning. i got to watch the city wake up and it was wonderful. maybe i’ll play another day.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment