An oasis of tranquillity – that’s how many describe Reaching Out Tea House.
They’re not wrong.
Unexpectedly, it also turned out to be a trove of lessons about travel and life, something I’m grateful for beyond the traditional Vietnamese hospitality, the fair-trade teas and coffees and the delectable cookies.
Central Vietnam’s Hoi An is as alluring as my fellow travellers describe. Particularly, it’s its mustard-yellow-painted and dark-wood pillared Ancient Town that charms you. Known as phố cổ (old quarter) in Vietnamese, Hoi An Ancient Town is a UNESCO World Cultural Heritage Site. It’s a well-preserved trading hub that was bustling with activity and cultural exchange between the 5th and 19th centuries, a melting pot of architectural styles of the Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese and French. So, I wasn’t surprised when phố cổ, a must-see on travellers’ lists, was packed to spilling with throngs of tourists from across the world.
Still, making it through a slowly strolling crowd in Ancient Town can take its toll on you. Throw in the sapping heat and humidity of central Vietnam’s coast, plus the constant pleas of street vendors coaxing you to buy snacks, fruits or souvenirs, and you’re left with a near-empty personal fuel tank, and patience that is hanging by a flimsy thread. With every step, the cacophony leaves you feeling less and less charmed by Hoi An’s picturesque cobbled streets and architecture, and more and more frustrated at being hoodwinked into visiting what many call a ‘tourist trap’.
Remember that 90’s Indian glucose drink ad where a cocky animated sun sucks the juice out of a dog-tired child’s head? That’s how I felt one noon in phố cổ Hoi An, as I dragged my feet through Trần Phú Street, in search of a tea house that had caught my eye on a friend’s Instagram post years ago. I passed many old yellow-and-brown buildings that now host souvenir stores, tailoring shops and cafes, till Google Maps led me to the threshold of an unassuming deep brown-wooded house with open windows. Unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss Reaching Out Tea House, because of how well it disguises itself in a seemingly drab facade in the midst of neighbouring floral drapes and amber walls.
What’s so special about a tea house?
The second you step in, the din and dissonance of Hoi An’s streets start to seem distant. It’s cool inside, the pastel green walls offering your eyes the much-needed respite from the bright buttery yellows of phố cổ’s buildings. A wave of peace gently washes over you, as you take your place at a table either within the Tea House or in the little open garden towards the back.
The best part? You hear nothing.
Well, except for the sounds of cutlery against cutlery, tea being poured into ceramic and glass cups, hushed shuffling of feet and soft whispers that would have our school teachers proud (the closest one can get to ‘pin-drop silence’), there’s nary a peep from anyone.
Reaching Out is a Tea House with a Purpose
There’s a reason why you will see artwork highlighting the importance of silence here.
Reaching Out Tea House was founded by Quyen Mai and her husband Binh Le Nguyen. A medical mishap in a hospital in Da Nang rendered Binh physically disabled, which left him questioning the meaning of his existence. But he found joy in Quyen – a Hoi An native – who he married. Through Binh, Quyen could view the world as experienced by those who are disabled, something she says she never thought she would’ve paid as much attention to otherwise. Thus, Reaching Out was born in 2000 as a handicrafts enterprise, in an effort by the couple to provide inclusive work opportunities to disabled locals.
After gaining experience running the handicrafts store, the couple opened Reaching Out Tea House on one of phố cổ Hoi An’s busiest streets. The Tea House is run by a staff of the sweetest and most graceful speech-and-hearing-impaired female workers, who have turned the harshness of silence for the self, into a place of peace for those who crave it.
Lesson 1: The Power of Silence
I’m no stranger to noise. I live in Bangalore, a city known for traffic jams, busy pavements and the constant hustle-and-bustle that comes with being the IT capital of the country, and more recently, the Startup Capital of India. So the busy streets of Hoi An Ancient Town didn’t disorient me too much, or so I thought.
It was only after I stepped into the bubble of silence at Reaching Out Tea House, did I realized how much my ears craved quietness. I sat at a table next to a window; my thoughts – just as chaotic as the outside – took a backseat. The silence inside Reaching Out Tea House didn’t feel heavy, alien or uncomfortable, but was welcoming and homely. Like the gentlest breeze of spring or the first rains of the monsoon.
At the time of my travels to the central coast of Vietnam, I was without a job. Being employer-free was a choice, caused by deteriorating mental health and a feeling of worthlessness that came from being in a not-so-great work environment. And while it gave me back some semblance of mental wellness, and time to slowly explore central Vietnam, being employer-free also meant a fast-emptying bank account and an intensely powerful imposter syndrome. And that feeling of worthlessness? It only became stronger, because I was constantly surrounded by noise – from brands shoving messages down my throat, making me feel like my life is incomplete without X product and Y service, and from people constantly sharing their many accomplishments; accomplishments mine pale in comparison to.
This noise added to the screeching in my already-loud mind. While my goals may not be fame and wealth, they are challenging and, to put it mildly, many, and all over the place. My brain needed a break. And it found that break, unexpectedly, in a tea house in the heart of phố cổ Hoi An.
There was little to distract me here. And with fewer distractions, comes focus. I was, after months, able to quieten my mind and direct my energy to only my most urgent and important goals – the ones that bring me true joy, the ones that are not a result of comparing my journey to others’ accomplishments.
In this silence also came true enjoyment of the traditional Vietnamese offerings at Reaching Out Tea House. The tranquil atmosphere allows for genuine appreciation of the coffee slowly dripping through the phin (Vietnamese for filter), or the slow pour of tea from a beautifully crafted kettle. The hushed ambience directed my mind to focus on just one thing – the simple pleasure of having a cup of cold coffee on a hot summer day.
Lesson 2: The Importance of Contrast
What caught my eye at Reaching Out was the contrast between the enchanting raucousness of Hoi An Ancient Town’s streets and the veil of serene silence that enveloped me within the Tea House. And while we are often wont to criticising one and praising the other, I relearnt that we fail to realize that one cannot be appreciated without the other.
If not for the sweltering heat outside, I wouldn’t have been as grateful for the coolness inside Reaching Out Tea House. If not for the charming but straining yellow walls of Hoi An Ancient Town, I would not have basked in the calming hues of delicate mint green inside the Tea House. Had it not been for the constant pleas of vendors urging me to buy something off of them on the streets, the beauty of gentle, quiet service inside Reaching Out Tea House would go unappreciated.
If it’s always daylight, we will never see the stars. And if it’s always nighttime, we are sure to miss the warmth of a glowing summer sun (also, we perish because the sun is the life force of our planet and of every living organism). And if it hadn’t been for a refreshing respite within Reaching Out, I wouldn’t have had the energy to continue exploring phố cổ Hoi An by foot, in the heat that was.
Lesson 3: The Forgotten Art of Slowing Down
When in Vietnam, have coffee the Vietnamese way. So, I decided to fix myself a cà phê sữa đá – iced coffee with sweet condensed milk. My simple order of Local Coffee – a medium roasted blend of Arabica from Cau Dat and Robusta from Ea H’leo – soon arrived in the loveliest serve ware I’ve ever seen.
With only myself for company and nothing to do but sip on a refreshing cup of coffee, I felt time slow down – a rare occurrence these days, since instant gratification is the norm and slowing down isn’t a viable option. I’m guilty of succumbing to the need for speed, and I know I’m not the only one who feels like a fast-paced life fuelled by never-ending wants is killing us.
Similarly, we often find ourselves travelling from one place to another at a pace like never before, because social media has us constantly believing that our lives and experiences are somehow less significant unless we visit ten different places this year or do fifteen different things when travelling. A culture of toxic urgency has seeped into our daily lives. Don’t get me wrong. I’m continuously in awe of the creativity, skill and hard work that content creation requires. I’m doubly in awe of people who possess the above and the passion to go with it.
Still, I couldn’t help but observe that there is a hunger for the trendy and the eyeball-grabbing which are fuelled by algorithms that push for trendy videos and eyeball-grabbing images. The vicious cycle hacks away at one’s sense of self and accomplishment – ‘Am I doing enough? Am I travelling enough? Am I enough?’ – whether you’re a consumer or a creator.
Why are we in such a hurry, always? It may be a privileged statement to say, but where do we have to reach that’s anywhere but where we’re all eventually going to end up? Our final destination is the same, our time here is limited. Why do we spend it rushing and worrying about not getting somewhere fast enough?
So, I seek to slow down, in travel and in living. Many, including me, can’t take up full-time travel, or explore just one place for weeks each time. We have jobs, and families to support. That doesn’t mean sustainable travel is impossible for us. Content on social media can be wonderful, uplifting, entertaining and inspiring but can also perpetuate trends that are unrealistic. It doesn’t display people’s failures or bad days, nor does it show how long it took someone to get to where they are. Accepting that we can’t have it all, is where it starts. We can then identify places to see and things to experience that actually bring us joy – where would I travel to if I couldn’t talk about it online? That’s where I ought to be.
And when it comes to sharing our experiences, we can do so mindfully to get the best of both worlds – engagement from our audience (or friends and family, in my case) and a sense of having contributed meaningful value. Trends are fun, authenticity is even better.
At Reaching Out Tea House, you sit in silence with your beverage of choice. You take comfort in the peace that surrounds you. You slow down your thoughts, you push your myriad of lists aside, you ignore the fast and the trendy. And you do nothing else. Life is too short to always be in a hurry. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.
More about Reaching Out Tea House
Reaching Out is one of those places that makes a great addition to your list if you wish to explore Hoi An slowly. Here are some deets to help you get there and about.
What can you get at Reaching Out?
A variety of hand-processed and fair trade teas, coffees, and juices, in beautifully handcrafted serve ware. You also get scrumptious in-house cookies that pair well with each beverage. Unsure of which coffee or tea to order? Opt for the coffee or tea samplers.
Beyond the outdoor garden, you can find handcrafted teaware and coffee filters, jewellery, homeware, locally produced teas and coffees, and even toys for sale, all made by specially-abled individuals at the Reaching Out craft shop. These make lovely keepsakes and gifts for yourself, your family and friends. I picked up a pair of dainty earrings, a glass coffee mug embellished with metallic dragonflies, silk lanterns and of course, lots of jasmine tea!
How do you place an order?
Since the Tea House staff is hearing and speech impaired, Reaching Out provides you with ample tools to communicate with them. While common gestures work, the Tea House has communication cubes placed on each table. You can simply show the cube pertaining to what you need to the staff.
To order, you’re offered a menu card, where you can tick the option(s) you’d like. It’s as simple as that!
Google Translate goes a long way when communicating in Vietnam. I found it especially helpful at Reaching Out Tea House to ask for directions to the bathroom and for some craft shop-related questions.
The Tea House accepts cash in Vietnamese Dong (VND) and USD, and major credit cards and debit cards.
Where is Reaching Out Tea House located?
Address:
131 Tran Phu Street
Hoi An, Quang Nam 560000, Vietnam
Opening Hours:
Monday – Friday: 8 am – 8 pm
Saturday – Sunday: 9.30 am – 4.30 pm
Plan accordingly!
I definitely didn’t have to go so far to relearn these essential life lessons. But if I HAD to experience them at a Tea House in Vietnam, so be it!
Should this Tea House be an essential thing to do in Hoi An? Not at all, just as nothing is an absolute must-do. However, if you find yourself craving solace, a treat for the senses and a few moments of undistracted calm, add Reaching Out Tea House to your list of places to visit in Hoi An, Vietnam. And I hope it teaches you something valuable too.
