Here in An Bang Beach, Hoi An, we’ve become intimately acquainted with our neighbourhood’s nightly symphony. Last night, like all others, we were once again awakened by a medley of sounds that sent me reaching for my trusty earplugs – now well-worn and in need of replacement. As I lay there waiting for the noises to subside, Billy Collins’ poem “Another Reason Why I Don’t Keep A Gun In The House” came to mind, and I found myself smiling and grateful that we have no such armaments available here either.  

Collins’ poem captures something profoundly humourous, particularly in these lines: “….. and now I can see him [the dog] sitting in the orchestra, his head raised confidently as if Beethoven had included a part for a barking dog.” This image resonates (pun intended) perfectly with our experience here, where sound is abundant and part of the tapestry.  

The locals here are passionate about their karaoke, their enthusiastic (and very echoy) performances creating a soundtrack that flows through day and night, only pausing in the wee hours. That’s when the dogs of An Bang – in all shapes, sizes and volume – take their turn in the orchestra, performing until dawn when the neighborhood roosters step in for their morning movement. 

The parallel with Collins’ humorous observation reminds me of a deeper truth: sound is merely sound – it’s our response to it that shapes our experience. The karaoke enthusiasts, the chorus of dogs, even the persistent honking – they’re all notes in the symphony of our daily lives here in Hoi An. 

Perhaps the true insight lies not in the sounds themselves, but in how we choose to perceive them. We can opt for frustration, letting the cacophony wear us down, or we can find humor and harmony in this unique orchestration. After all, isn’t this the essence of life in community – finding our rhythm within the collective melody, even when it plays in keys we didn’t expect?