Singing amidst a life of wandering

Under the bright lights of the lottery stage, amidst the lively music, many people earn their living through singing. Behind these performances lie life stories rarely spoken aloud.

As evening fell on an empty plot of land on Nguyen Hoang Street, Long Xuyen Ward, a makeshift stage, temporarily erected with tarpaulins, hastily strung electrical wires, and a few flickering colored lights, appeared for several weeks in a row, attracting the attention of the local people. Before the show began, I listened to the story of Ms. Phuong Anh (58 years old), originally from Dong Nai province and the owner of the Phuong Anh lottery troupe, interspersed with the jarring music.

Through Ms. Anh's story, the tale of a life intertwined with the profession of lottery calling unfolds vividly. Aware of her sexual orientation, she was fortunate to have her family's support in "being herself." Nearly 40 years ago, she joined a lottery-calling troupe, freely wearing beautiful, glamorous costumes and showcasing her singing talent before an audience, even a noisy, inattentive fairground crowd. She considers herself "tied to lottery calling as her destiny." Throughout her decades of wandering, she has left and returned many times, forming her own troupe… like an endless cycle. "There were times I thought about quitting completely and finding a more stable job. But then I couldn't bear it. I missed the stage, the music, the feeling of standing in front of a crowd… so I came back," Ms. Anh recounted, her voice softening.

Ms. Tran Thi Hong (70 years old), residing in Binh Duc ward, watched the lottery numbers being called out on stage while recounting: “The Phuong Anh Lottery Show, returning to the stage in 2025, once helped me win a high prize in a television program. A few months ago, I felt a connection with the empty plot of land in Long Xuyen ward, so I asked the ward's People's Committee leaders to organize it nightly. It includes children's games like a train, fishing, and a bouncy house, as well as a dart game for adults, and especially a colorful lottery stage. My husband and I are busy selling porridge all day, and in the evening, when he's free, he takes me here to play a few rounds of lottery for fun. When I was little, I used to sneak away from my parents to watch the show, and now sitting here brings back old memories.”

Members of the Phuong Anh lottery troupe perform. Photo: GIA KHANH

“Every profession has its dark side, but I want my lottery troupe to be ‘clean’: no hidden vices, no cheating, and the women in the troupe support each other every day. The income depends on the number of customers each night. It’s not just for making a living, but also for something hard to name: the joy of standing on stage, singing, and receiving applause from the audience. It’s through singing that people have the motivation to buy clothes, eagerly anticipate each performance, and feel they aren’t superfluous in the labor market,” Ms. Phuong Anh recounted.

In the past, transgender people faced much discrimination. Today, attitudes are more open, and people view the LGBT community as a familiar part of life. As a result, traveling lottery theater troupes can operate more actively, receive performance licenses, and have a stable audience. Even with just 100 attendees, a show is considered a success, with the music and singing much more vibrant.

Having witnessed the many ups and downs of the profession, Ms. Bich Ngoc (65 years old), residing in Long Xuyen ward, is not yet ready to "retire," and every night she holds a stack of lottery tickets to attract customers. Once "famous" in a theater troupe for her vong co (traditional Vietnamese folk singing) style, especially in the cai luong (Vietnamese traditional opera) play "La Sau Rieng" (The Durian Leaf), Ms. Ngoc is now handing over the stage to younger generations, hoping their lives will be less difficult than hers. "For our generation, even growing long, flowing hair was difficult, let alone undergoing gender reassignment surgery. Performing lottery shows is a legitimate profession, but it's a nomadic life, with an unstable future, and my family's objections are understandable. It's just that, since I'm so passionate about it, I have no choice but to 'follow through'," Ms. Ngoc said sadly.

Bingo, originally a familiar folk game, has over time become a distinctive form of entertainment in Southern Vietnam. The witty chants, wordplay, and humorous remarks make the audience laugh heartily. "What number is this, what number will it be?", "I sell durian, but I don't sell love, number thirty is perfect..." are easy to remember and can be hummed along to. Sometimes, the singers pour their hearts into the melancholic verses: "The rain pours down, I dream of someone far away, I resent someone, my tears fill with sorrow, who can I find, my soulmate...?"

For transgender people in traveling lottery troupes, it's not just a job, but also a space for self-expression. They don't need to hide, they don't need to fear judgmental stares. On stage, they are themselves, radiant, confident, and full of life. Though hard work, it's fun; they have their fellow performers, the stage, the applause, and the watchful eyes of the audience. Having weathered many ups and downs, these traveling lottery troupes are no longer confined to empty riverside fields or the Tet (Lunar New Year) fair season. Wherever they are, that essence of the Mekong Delta remains undiminished. The lottery is a song of optimism, where sadness is wrapped in lively melodies, where those "drifting aimlessly" find each other and themselves.

As I write these lines, the Phuong Anh lottery troupe has departed, leaving behind the familiar empty plot of land. Ms. Anh bid farewell to me and the audience in Long Xuyen, continuing her journey to the southeastern provinces to avoid the upcoming prolonged rainy season in the South. As the vehicle rolled into the new land, they carried with them their makeshift stage and their small dream: to sing, to live, and to be accepted.

GIA KHANH

Source: https://baoangiang.com.vn/hat-giua-cuoc-doi-rong-ruoi-a481879.html