READING THE CITY
The city does not tell its past, but contains it like the lines of a hand.
Italo Calvino
Previous section: Shifting the
Gaze
Ghost Market
19-12 Market, Hanoi
Eight varieties of rice - stacks of
headless dogs -
giant snails - dappled frogs - spindly chicken feet.
Dazzled by a riot of crowd and noise, it's easy
to forget what we
wanted. Our eyes ricochet
from black fish in blue bowls - to golden noodles
-
fat curled eels - silky ducks - cascading greens.
Haphazardly, we
drift among stalls. Packed high,
they offer lotus - lumps of red meat -
lucky money.
Then we're told - this ground was a last barricade.
Here -
people stood - fought - and died - for ideals.
A few lost bones remain; our
feet might tread on
faces of defeated heroes. The soles of my shoes thin.
History looks me in the eye, weighs my life. I blink.
In my hand, our
shopping list - rice, beer, eggs.
Footnote: During
an uprising against the French colonial rulers on 19 December 1946, Vietnamese
citizens retreated to make a final stand on a small Hanoi market site. The
uprising was defeated. During the fighting, bodies were hastily buried on the
spot. Some time later they were removed. To commemorate the uprising, the market
is now called the 19-12 market. It is known colloquially as 'the ghost
market'.
|
