The routine has remained unchanged for 30 years with a 72-year-old womanwho helps preserve Hanoi’s old-world charm in her unique way.
At daybreak, Nguyen Thi Tim picks up a few handfuls of grain andscatters them under a large Senegal mahogany tree that stands in frontof her small, typical street-side tea stall.
On cue, wild sparrows descend and begin a pecking frenzy, charming early customers, many of whom are regulars.
Tim began this unique tradition when her husband passed away, leavingher with three small daughters to bring up. Two daughters still livewith her and off the small tea-stall at the corner of BaTrieu Street andTo Hien Thanh Street.
Joining her mother inthrowing a handful of paddy, the daughter answered on Tim's behalf aquestion on whether it was costly to feed the wild birds everyday:"expensive or not has nothing to do with feeding them."
Pointing at the nylon bag of paddy hung on the pavement's railing, Timsaid the food must be readily available to feed the birds because shefeels uneasy when they go hungry.
"How can you know when they are hungry?"
"They call out loudly for food."
As she talked, birds perched above on electric wires and tree brancheswaited for a group of passers-by to cross the feeding area and thendived down in droves.
As the birds jumped around andpecked, Nguyen Van Dung, 50, another Hanoi native and regular customer,took out his smart phone to capture the moment.
Praising the old woman's good heart, he remarked that that she was doingwas "a simple thing, but not something everyone can do, or is willingto do, or can succeed in doing."
Inspired by hersuccess, many people, including her relatives, have tried to do the samething, scattering paddy in the yards of their homes, but the birds havestayed away.
Dung said Tim is the only wild birdfeeder he has seen in the neighborhood. However, there are otherHanoians who also show their kindness to animals and an inclination toliving in harmony with nature, he said.
"Just astone's throw from her home in the Old Quarter, there is another oldwoman who everyday asks for bread crumbs and stale bread from nearbyrestaurants to feed the fish in the Hoan Kiem (Sword) Lake."
He is grateful for such people, Dung said, adding that they help preserve a precious little piece of old Hanoi.
"Decades ago, I would wake up every morning to birds singing, but thisrapid urbanisation and population growth has made this rare. We can nolonger hear birds sing in trees."
Dung was alsoangry about what he said was a trend among city youth – hunting wildbirds in tree-lined streets. This had driven many birds away, he said.
"The young think that the more modern theirbird-hunting gun is, the more stylish they are. It has become anostentatious display of wealth."
Tim said that untila few years ago, the mahogany tree used to be home to a flock of wildfowl large as the palm of a human hand. The birds' droppings had coveredthe area below in white, she said.
"But since some young hunters came and shot at them, the birds have been scared away," she said with evident sadness.
Tim and her two daughters take turns to keep the tiny stall open dayand night. All they sell is tea, some snacks and cigarettes. Tim takescharge during the day and the two girls cover the night shift.
She has met no hindrance to feeding the birds first thing in the morning, Tim said.
"The street cleaner never complains. She is happy to see the birds and so are the local police.
"They are present here almost all day and all year round in thesurrounding trees or on the electric wires but most crowded in theafternoon," she said, adding that she has no idea why it is so.
She also said that she misses the birds when she returns from the stall and retires for the night.
Recently, Tim has seen that her beloved sparrow family has expandedwith the addition of four strange rock sparrows, smaller in size thanthe original. She does not know where they have come from.
"They could be lost birds or escaped from someone's cage," she surmised.
For Dung, the image of the slow-moving old woman feeding hundreds ofbirds is therapeutic. It offers peace and continuity in a fast-changingHanoi landscape.
"When I was at a park in Bangkok, I was surrounded by pigeons there. They perched on my shoulders and hands.
"I would love my Hanoi – which we proudly call a City of Peace –to have more people like Tim so that the city becomes more livable andattractive for everyone, for us and for international tourists."-VNA
At daybreak, Nguyen Thi Tim picks up a few handfuls of grain andscatters them under a large Senegal mahogany tree that stands in frontof her small, typical street-side tea stall.
On cue, wild sparrows descend and begin a pecking frenzy, charming early customers, many of whom are regulars.
Tim began this unique tradition when her husband passed away, leavingher with three small daughters to bring up. Two daughters still livewith her and off the small tea-stall at the corner of BaTrieu Street andTo Hien Thanh Street.
Joining her mother inthrowing a handful of paddy, the daughter answered on Tim's behalf aquestion on whether it was costly to feed the wild birds everyday:"expensive or not has nothing to do with feeding them."
Pointing at the nylon bag of paddy hung on the pavement's railing, Timsaid the food must be readily available to feed the birds because shefeels uneasy when they go hungry.
"How can you know when they are hungry?"
"They call out loudly for food."
As she talked, birds perched above on electric wires and tree brancheswaited for a group of passers-by to cross the feeding area and thendived down in droves.
As the birds jumped around andpecked, Nguyen Van Dung, 50, another Hanoi native and regular customer,took out his smart phone to capture the moment.
Praising the old woman's good heart, he remarked that that she was doingwas "a simple thing, but not something everyone can do, or is willingto do, or can succeed in doing."
Inspired by hersuccess, many people, including her relatives, have tried to do the samething, scattering paddy in the yards of their homes, but the birds havestayed away.
Dung said Tim is the only wild birdfeeder he has seen in the neighborhood. However, there are otherHanoians who also show their kindness to animals and an inclination toliving in harmony with nature, he said.
"Just astone's throw from her home in the Old Quarter, there is another oldwoman who everyday asks for bread crumbs and stale bread from nearbyrestaurants to feed the fish in the Hoan Kiem (Sword) Lake."
He is grateful for such people, Dung said, adding that they help preserve a precious little piece of old Hanoi.
"Decades ago, I would wake up every morning to birds singing, but thisrapid urbanisation and population growth has made this rare. We can nolonger hear birds sing in trees."
Dung was alsoangry about what he said was a trend among city youth – hunting wildbirds in tree-lined streets. This had driven many birds away, he said.
"The young think that the more modern theirbird-hunting gun is, the more stylish they are. It has become anostentatious display of wealth."
Tim said that untila few years ago, the mahogany tree used to be home to a flock of wildfowl large as the palm of a human hand. The birds' droppings had coveredthe area below in white, she said.
"But since some young hunters came and shot at them, the birds have been scared away," she said with evident sadness.
Tim and her two daughters take turns to keep the tiny stall open dayand night. All they sell is tea, some snacks and cigarettes. Tim takescharge during the day and the two girls cover the night shift.
She has met no hindrance to feeding the birds first thing in the morning, Tim said.
"The street cleaner never complains. She is happy to see the birds and so are the local police.
"They are present here almost all day and all year round in thesurrounding trees or on the electric wires but most crowded in theafternoon," she said, adding that she has no idea why it is so.
She also said that she misses the birds when she returns from the stall and retires for the night.
Recently, Tim has seen that her beloved sparrow family has expandedwith the addition of four strange rock sparrows, smaller in size thanthe original. She does not know where they have come from.
"They could be lost birds or escaped from someone's cage," she surmised.
For Dung, the image of the slow-moving old woman feeding hundreds ofbirds is therapeutic. It offers peace and continuity in a fast-changingHanoi landscape.
"When I was at a park in Bangkok, I was surrounded by pigeons there. They perched on my shoulders and hands.
"I would love my Hanoi – which we proudly call a City of Peace –to have more people like Tim so that the city becomes more livable andattractive for everyone, for us and for international tourists."-VNA
