My Menopause Blog

Photo Credit: Sue Richards

I met Momma in December of 1998, at her village of DocLet Beach, on the south shore of Viet Nam. At the time she claimed to be 72 year’s old.

Every day, her two daughters, one daughter-in-law and several grand daughters would set up shop under the palms of the backpackers enclave where we were staying. The South China Sea roared with fury and the sky stayed grey for days thanks to an offshore hurricane.

Momma was clearly a crone in charge of her flock. Her daughters cooked big, fresh shrimp for tourists on rudimentary yoke carried BBQ’s. In between mealtimes, they did careful manicures and pedicure for women on the beach. The girls sold gum, chips, and fresh fruit, carrying filled baskets on their heads. Momma offered a basic, deep massage and seemed to be the clans Chief Financial Officer.

Because the weather was poor, my man and I were sometimes their only customers for the day. Knowing this, we intentionally bought a service or product from each of the generations knowing full well that our commerce was their daily bread. And to ease speculation and reduce the haggling, we pre-arranged the next days services in advance.

After our business transactions were complete, we’d buy a round of lemon drinks and some food and sit together. They spoke little English and we just a few words of Vietnamese. And yet, we grew fond of each other by hanging out on the wind swept beach. There was always something to laugh about.
Now, looking at this photo I wish I knew more about Momma’s life story.

It seems that my menopause is helping me see older women differently.

Sue Richards

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