[blind man on mini bus from Thạnh Trị to Sóc Trăng, 5/13/25]
In Sóc Trăng less than a day, I’ve befriended a frog, a dog, a sad lady who lost her dog months ago and a wedding photographer who gave me endless tips about how to graduate from being a clueless amateur who’s just wandering around shooting random sights in the worst possible ways. If I want to make a fat guy appear thinner, I must shoot from this angle, at this distance. My Canon is OK for indoor scenes, but I must invest in a Nikon for outside shots. From the wrong angles, I’ll deform the prettiest woman, he warned. On and on this maven was trying to straighten me out. His father was among the best photographers in Sóc Trăng, he informed me, so his undeniable genius is inherited.
I’m at my third café, Kiều. My first this morning was Hoàng Lan, right next door. A minute after I had sat down, a black frog hopped over to my table. Smaller than a cupcake, he paused at my bare feet to stare up. I couldn’t have asked for a better welcome.