Come to Soul, Sell the Delusions

In Buon Ma Thuot during the early days of the dry season, the weather was truly delightful. On Friday, the sun shone brightly, and the wind was so strong it felt like I was being blown away from Mother Elephant Rock as I stood on its summit taking pictures. Yellow sunflowers swayed in swathes along the hillsides bordering National Highway 27. Young rice paddies stretched like velvet carpets at the foot of Father Elephant Rock. The wind made the wind chimes hanging from the Bao Dai Palace tinkle loudly beneath the ancient frangipani trees. The wind also churned up the waves on Lake Lak, preventing tourist boats from going out to sea to carry passengers…

Saturday was milder, soaking my new shirt, which was still damp from a day wandering deep in the Yok Don forest. It was soaked enough when the sudden jungle rains came, and I stood silently gazing at the majestic Buddha Waterfall, full of water even in the dry season, its foaming water cascading down amidst the vast wilderness.

Visiting Buon Ma Thuot without drinking coffee is pointless. But for the first two days, engrossed in my journey as I first set foot in Dak Lak, captivated by dishes like chicken stew with bamboo shoots, catfish cooked with sour leaves, sticky rice cooked in bamboo tubes, and wild boar fried in fish sauce… I only managed to have two cups of coffee at breakfast at the hotel. I consoled myself: since I'm already in Buon Ma Thuot, the coffee will be the same no matter where I drink it. On Friday night, feeling like my caffeine level wasn't high enough after that awful morning coffee at the airport, I walked to Ngo Quyen Street for a quick iced black coffee, which left me tossing and turning all night.

On my last day in Buon Ma Thuot, I asked the hotel receptionist to rent a motorbike, put on a light jacket and backpack, and explored the rest of this capital city of the Central Highlands. I asked my friend, who is a "native" of Buon Ma Thuot but now spends more time on airplanes than at home: "Where can I find good coffee in Buon Ma Thuot?" She directed me there, adding: "Go there, and you won't regret it."

Buon Ma Thuot is not inherently noisy, and Nguyen Khuyen Street, where this Soul cafe is located, isn't in the city center. Soul reminded me of a cafe nestled on a flower-filled hillside in Sapa long ago, when I wandered around on a similarly cloudy afternoon. In front of Soul is an old villa, and outside the gate, a variety of purple, yellow, white, red, and green flowers are vying to show off their colors. Stepping inside Soul, the spaciousness and openness of a modern cafe with a very Central Highlands style—tall, wide, and full of light—overwhelmed me, a city dweller accustomed to cramped cafe spaces—turning right and bumping into things on the left, turning left and bumping into things above—with an undisguised sense of delight.

And unlike the typical cafes I frequent, where the central area is mostly dedicated to counters, cups, filters, and brewing equipment, at Soul, these things look rather neatly tucked away, as if they were there to "decorate" the spaciousness of the place.

It was late afternoon on Sunday, so the cafe wasn't too crowded. I wandered around, admiring the decor, the wall paintings depicting the vibrant colors of the Central Highlands, the colorful coffee bags, the fragrant herbal tea bags, and the various jars and containers holding different types of coffee beans and powder from Ethiopia, Kenya, Colombia, and more. The cafe was designed in the style of a Central Highlands longhouse, and even sitting deep inside, you could still enjoy abundant natural light thanks to the glass panels on the roof that brought the Central Highlands' sunshine into every corner.

I ordered a drink, chose a corner in the cafe, sat down, and sipped the subtly bitter, cold brew coffee infused with the aroma of roses and rosemary. Using a round, shiny black metal spoon, I dipped a soft, cool, sweet lychee into my mouth, and it felt like all my dreams were melting away…

Talking to the young salesgirl, she learned I was from Hanoi and enthusiastically sat down to chat, telling me about Soul, about coffee, about Buon Ma Thuot. Her eyes lit up as she spoke of the youthful, open-minded style, yet still rich in the flavors of traditional and innovative coffee, of the chain of cafes stretching from North to South.

I looked around and asked about the price of a bottle of rice wine, but hesitated because I'm generally reluctant to carry a lot of luggage when traveling. The staff enthusiastically said that if I liked it, I could visit their Hanoi branch to buy one.

It was time to go, the young shopkeeper pointed to the road to the left of the exit (about 500m from the shop) leading to Ako Dhong village – a famous tourist destination in Buon Ma Thuot, and to the right was the World Coffee Museum, two places I had planned for my trip.

Even after leaving, the mind of a wanderlust, a lover of fun and excitement, of the wonder and surprise of the world's scenery and products, was filled with regret. Regret because my time in the Highlands was too short, regret because I only visited this place now.

I will return to Soul, so I can continue my pursuit of these delusions.

Le Hong Lam