Sweaty, sun-weary and traipsing around the Cham district of Chau Doc in Vietnam, I was drawn to a noisy group of chirpy Cham Muslim boys congregated outside a house on the dusty main road. Taking out my camera in order to snap away at them in their traditional dress, I was beckoned over excitely and guided into the forecourt of the dazzlingly white house. Inside, beyond the guard of kneeling, shrouded matriarchs a recently married couple accepted the best wishes from a line of guests. As beautiful as the bride was, it was this young mother with her black headscarf that caught my attention. Despite initially thinking I wanted her out of the photo, I managed, through my flustered and clumsy gesturing, to get her to look directly at me and part with an unsure smile that betrays her humbleness and a sublety of sadness – this young woman was a widow.
