Michael Nguyen SVD
…“Waking up from my siesta,” you continue, “I went down to the dining room. The waitress in her Vietnamese outfit, they call Áo Dài, approached me, ‘Sir, can I take your order for your afternoon tea?’ ‘What do you have?’ ‘You have a choice of green tea or coffee.’ Oh, Tea! I love tea. I love green tea! I love the Oriental tea which the Oriental legend believes has the power to grant longevity to those who imbibe this heavenly tea (made from the leaves of the tea trees, grown on the top of a very high mountain, picked up by the monkeys with the white fur). This thought quickly flashed by and was processed in my mind. ‘Tea! Green tea, please!’ I replied, hoping I would be served with this special green tea. The waitress looked very young, 20? or 22?, with thick, long, smooth, sleek black hair, the typical texture of the Oriental hair that I love, disappeared. While waiting for my cuppa, I turned my eyes to the glassy windows of the room. The summer was clearly portrayed through the tropical sunny light, the very green leaves of the high palm trees, and the sticky air of the humid tropical atmosphere I could feel it. I allowed my mind to wander while waiting for the cuppa of green tea. Tomorrow I will be in Hue, and then Hanoi, Ha Long Bay… Ha Long Bay, my friends told me, was one of the best tourist places… My mind stopped wandering when I saw the shadows of my Oriental angel cast on the floor. She walked on her high heel shoes, amazingly, without causing a single sound… She was carrying on her arms, as I expected, a wooden tray on which a cup of green tea was placed. The tea was hot, I can tell, for a trail of white vapor was rising up from the cup. Next to the cup was, nevertheless, not a biscuit. ‘What is it?’ I pointed at the item. The young lady politely said, with a clear and articulate voice, ‘Sir, it is a rice cake.’”
Rice! Oh Rice! Oh Rice.
Before leaving my table, she smiled at me with a very typical Oriental smile, informing, “At 4 pm, there is a tour bus scheduled to take our tourists to a field to enjoy the sunset…”
“What field?” I was curious,
“Rice field, sir.” She added, “Our tourists always enjoy such scenery, a-rice-field-by-sunset scenery.”
And then dinner, tea time came, after the tour to the rice field by sunset. I hoped the chief had varied the menu. But, no! Rice, rice, oh rice. I was served with rice again.”
“You know what, Jesus’ famous saying, ‘I am the bread of life’ should have been read, ‘I am the rice of life’ in the Vietnamese culture.”
“Really…” I am surprised.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“See, Jesus is a Jew. He eats bread. His people also eat bread. In the desert, he multiplies the bread for the hungry crowds. That’s why he declared, ‘I am the bread of life. Anyone who does not eat the bread of life granted from heaven will not have eternal life.’ You guys don’t eat bread. You eat rice! Rice! Rice! Oh Rice! If Jesus was born as a Vietnamese, he might have said, ‘I am the rice of life’.”
Source: www.nguyentrungtay.net/riceohrice.html
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