{Entry for the Humanities Impression Contest - Faculty of International Studies} Humanities Cafeteria

For anyone thinking about a school, the familiar image that comes to mind is probably the teachers and the lecture hall, because those are clearly the most beautiful and cherished images. However, there is a beloved corner for generations of students and faculty that should not be forgotten – the school cafeteria. The cafeteria not only fills empty stomachs and warms hands on a cold winter day with a hot cup of tea, but also connects countless generations of teachers and students. For the author, the cafeteria holds the traces of the passing years.

I entered the University of Social Sciences and Humanities on an autumn day more than 18 years ago. Since then, I have spent my youth here. At that time, building G, where the main lecture halls of the university now are, was under construction, building E was still unfinished, and buildings A, B, and C were separated by green spaces.

Back then, the Humanities students in my mind were filled with the bright joy of being a first-year university student!

I still remember the school canteen located in a corner of what is now a car garage. Calling it a canteen is probably a bit fancy, because back then, besides iced tea, a few bottles of soda, sunflower seeds, some dried beef, donuts, and peanut candy, there weren't many other snacks. In front of the canteen was a banyan tree, part of its stump still visible. The canteen back then wasn't bright, didn't have gleaming glass display cases, and of course, air conditioning was unthinkable. But back then, simplicity created a sense of nostalgia. Far away, I remember the strumming of guitars played by the newly learned students from the Faculty of Natural Sciences, the simple singing of the student volunteer groups from the Faculty of Humanities who always chose the canteen as their gathering place, and the smoke from the cigarettes of my teachers as they discussed matters and rested before class. I remember the radiant faces of my fellow students from that era. To me, that little corner was vibrant, warm, and dear. I call that canteen the "Generation 1.0" canteen.

A few years later, perhaps in 2009, when building E was completed (where floors 1, 2, and 3 housed the library), the canteen was located in a modest corner on the second floor connecting buildings H and E. The stairs leading to the canteen were somewhat precarious, making it a little awkward for women in dresses. The tables and chairs were crammed together in a small space, sometimes making it difficult for those with backpacks full of books to squeeze through. However, that small corner was enough for students to meet and faculty to socialize. For us staff, in a hectic life filled with teaching, research topics, family matters, and children, a few seconds of meeting, exchanging a few words, waving from opposite corners of the canteen was enough to warm our hearts. Ah, so he's still healthy, she's still working at the university, he's doing research, that professor just retired...

That second-generation canteen has instant noodles with lemon, rice rolls, sandwiches with spring rolls and sweet potato, and sweet sausages. These dishes have become so familiar that if you happen to eat them elsewhere, even if it's the same food and the restaurant is famous, something feels missing. It lacks the flavor of habit, the feeling of peace, the essence of Vietnamese culture.

Now, the school cafeteria is located between buildings B and C. It's spacious, with a cafe and a small supermarket. I used to think that the gleaming glass doors, the overwhelming comfort of the air conditioning, and the free Wi-Fi had severed the sweetness, warmth, simplicity, and connection of the old cafeteria. I used to reminisce and miss the cafeterias of the past, generations 1.0 and 2.0. But after an afternoon chatting with my classmates from the innovation and creativity class under the bougainvillea, watching students diligently studying and discussing their lessons, and listening to groups of students softly singing along to the cafeteria's music, I felt different. I also felt warmer knowing that my students no longer have to wander far for a place to eat or tirelessly search for a corner to rest at lunchtime. "The cafeteria food is delicious and not expensive at all," I said, my eyes welling up with tears. I realized I needed to change my way of thinking. The cafeteria is modern and clean now. And just think, I myself find that a cafe with good music, not too noisy or chaotic, with the presence of friends whether studying or watching a movie, makes life feel complete, colorful, and full of charm. And in a society where social media is gradually making people forget about real relationships, this 3.0 cafeteria is still a place where real interaction takes place every day. Winter hasn't arrived yet for me to recapture the warmth of a hot cup of tea from the old days. But the days of social distancing due to Covid-19 made me realize how much I love the cafeteria. During those days, thinking about the image of the cafeteria with groups of students practicing flashmob and cups of iced coffee in hand makes me smile involuntarily. A sweet feeling creeps into my heart.

My 18 years at the Faculty of Humanities were wonderful because of the teachers, friends, and students. Those 18 years were always associated with images of the lecture halls and the library. And those 18 years wouldn't be complete without the cafeteria, whether it was 1.0, 2.0, or 3.0.