December in Prague is not a particularly cheerful time of the year, it is not terribly cold but the temperature manages to stay constantly around zero degrees, which in combination with the scattered snow and the gloom of rain clouds makes the overall feeling of the city, well, gloomy. To overcompensate, I think, big Christmas Markets are set up, not only on the main square, but all around the city; full of cheap figurines, hipster crafts, spiced wine and sausages, these markets were meant to provide people refuge from the gloom, but ended up turning into yet another tourist attraction.
Prague is home to the second largest community of Vietnamese people outside of Vietnam, right next to San José California, they learn the language, they adjust to the country just fine but end up making very tight communities. It is now, not uncommon to see second or third generation Vietnamese speaking, what sounds to me, perfect Czech. All of them seem to converge once in a while in Sapa or 'Little Hanoi' a wet market that feels taken straight out of Hanoi (except for the cold), Sapa was founded by Vietnamese immigrants and it now stands proudly at the outskirts of the city; a place of refuge for those who know where to find it. People gather here to do their shopping, pray at the Budhhist Temple or eat some Phò, which ironically feels more fitted to be eaten in cold weather than in the tropical heat where it was brought to existence.
His name was Dùc, Vietnamese father and Czech mother, his parents died when he was a kid, and the community refused to take him in (unsure if it was because of his Czech mother or his dick father), thus grew up in foster care and in the streets, he never really learnt Vietnamese, he grew up resenting his own people and the only real connection to them he has kept is Phò.
Living in the streets is not easy, there is never enough food or money yes, that is easy to imagine, but there are some other not-so-easy-to-imagine; like how to get a smoke, where to leave your stuff, where to get a drink, how to watch tv, where to check your facebook and so on. By his twentieth birthday Duc had all these figured out. He kept his belongings to a minimum, he had stolen an Iphone and connected to any public WiFi he could, he enjoyed reading and had taught himself English, Russian and German. He would read, use the toilette and watch the occasionally movie at the library, he would get cigarettes from drunk tourists outside of clubs and would finish any drink left over on the streets. He had befriended servers in many restaurants so food was not really an issue. He hated shelters where the 'volunteers' treated him like garbage, but sometimes he had no choice and had to swallow his pride and spend the night. Money was a different matter though, living in a country that was not particularly rich, it was hard to get welfare, asking for money was no better, tourists were not particularly generous and preferred helping old ladies praying at the bridge than a young looking Asian man; he did not have any particularly exploitable talent other than his dark humour so putting on a show was not an option. And a job? Well those were hard to come by for 'normal' people, let alone for a foreign looking guy who had to carry all his belongings with him. But whenever some ash got to his pocket he would start a journey to Sapa, right outside the city limits, a good two hour walk from his usual resting place just off the Kafka museum. His path was always the same, down the river to the left, he would count the light posts and traffic lights all these in an unconscious attempt to bring some normalcy to his own life.
People at the market knew who he was, they knew that fourteen years ago they had refused to take him into their community and essentially abandoned one of their own. Duc's presence was a reminder of a bad decision. And instead of making amends for a mistake, they, at most humans often do, tried to ignore and wished he would just go away soon enough.
He resented them, yes, he might even hated them, but in his mind he did not have the energy to even ask them why... and in the end none of that really mattered when that beautiful steaming bowl of long cooked beef broth and noodles was in front of him, six leaves of mint, a bunch of bean sprouts, half a lemon squeezed and a good dash of sriracha was his way. He would eat the meat and noodles first, then the broth, that first sip of broth had always brought his feelings to the front; happiness about a life long ago forgotten, love for a mother whose face he did not remember, hate for a father whose name had fallen into oblivion, longing for something he may had never had.
It was only during these moments in the markets when he allowed himself to feel the cold air outside and how it contrasted with his warm and full belly. His eyes always watered for a good few seconds.
The walk back was spent in introspection, he didn't mind his life but he always asked himself if he wanted something else, and if so, how would he get it. He never managed to get a clear answer from himself and would just head to Lètna park to observe people and imagine how their lives would be like.
Summer was more comfortable for people watching in the park, but winter is ideal as there is always only a handful of people, there is time to come up with a story for each of them. Tonight Dùc positioned himself right under the metronome, which, surprise surprise, was stuck.
- That business man with the suit looks stressed, he is about to loose a contract which will start a chain reaction that will end up with him loosing everything he had, in a year from now him and Duc will share a bowl of Pho at the market.
- That blonde chick with the big tit implants and collagen filled lips looks nostalgic in between each of her selfies, she is about to turn forty and is trying to cling to her youth as much as she can... in doing so she has alienated every single person in her life except for her instagram followers.
- That couple pushing a stroller look tired, they were having problems and decided that a child would bring them together and would be the end of their problems. Daniel, the baby served as a temporary anchor, bound by the hard work of raising a child they will remain together for five more years, realising in the end that they were just growing apart by the minute.
- That old man has no idea what to do now that his wife has passed away. He always thought that due to his life of excess he would leave first, but here he was, without her to drink coffee in the morning.
- That young couple teasing each other look annoyingly happy, they fight a lot, they love each other a lot, she thinks he is an idiot, sometimes he thinks she is annoying. They like travel, food and markets.
- "Not a bad life", said Duc to himself.
The metronome stayed still, Duc walked around the wall towards the service entrance to take a piss, he then noticed the opened door, curious as he had always been he walked in, when his eyes adjusted to the dark, a dead body appeared in front of him; slit throat and an arm stuck in the metronome's gears, a pocket knife laid on a pool of blood. As he reached down to pick up the blade, he slipped on the blood projecting himself against the gears, he lost consciousness and fell on-top of the dead guy releasing the arm from the gears. the metronome quickly gained momentum and recovered that elusive allegro.
The young couple will return from the museum and pass by the exact same spot, they will notice that the metronome would work again and will pick up the pace, they are late for dinner.
Duc didn't die, but because of the cold, he will never wake up, no agony, no life flashing in front of his eyes, just peace. The police will find the bodies in the early spring, it will be labelled as a drug related murder, and Duc will be to blame; it is just easier this way, no investigation, nobody to complain. The story will make the third page of all newspapers, news will be widely discussed in the Sapa Market, confirmation of their good judgement of character, they were right about Duc and they should not and will not change their ways.
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