AS THE RICE GROWS
In the Mekong province of Tra Vinh, life moves as the rice grows. Each day is slower here and the land is dark as soon as the sky dims, a blanket of silken blue-black descending on a place where the people rise even before it lifts. My Vietnamese family live outside Tra Vinh town, down a long lane that balances on the nib of a man-made ridge between fields. They farm rice for a living and have done so for as long as they can remember.