437 Rubber Bands and the People I Met in Vietnam ー　2026/6/6(Sat)R8

Today, I counted the rubber bands I bought at a 100-yen shop.

The package only said “70g.” It did not say how many rubber bands were inside.

I had been curious about that for a while.

So I grouped them into sets of ten and counted them one by one.

The result was 437 rubber bands.

Of course, I may have made a mistake somewhere, but it satisfied my curiosity.

Then I looked at the back of the package.

It said:

Made in Vietnam

That small label brought back memories of a trip to Vietnam that my husband and I took years ago.

During that trip, we visited a workshop where people with disabilities worked together making handicrafts, embroidery, and sewn goods.

Some had difficulties with their legs.

Some had difficulties with their hands.

Yet each person contributed what they could, creating beautiful products with great care.

I remember ordering a traditional Vietnamese outfit there.

The staff encouraged me to choose a bright color, but I asked for black because I wanted to wear it at formal events in Japan.

They explained that black was often associated with funerals and was not considered a cheerful color.

Still, they kindly made it for me, and the finished outfit was delivered the very next day.

I still have it today.

Perhaps that is why I cannot look at a “Made in Vietnam” label without wondering about the people behind it.

Who made this product?

What kind of factory was it made in?

What are the lives of those workers like?

How does a package of rubber bands travel all the way from Vietnam to a small shop in Japan?

As I counted 437 rubber bands, I realized that what interested me most was not the number itself.

It was the people on the other side of that small label.

Sometimes a simple object can connect us to memories, places, and people we have met along the way.

Today, a bag of rubber bands did exactly that.

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