Hoi An's optimism during historic flooding inspires American couple, turns them into residents

Rachel, a travel content creator, and her husband Stephen Howze, had come to Hoi An expecting a peaceful trip, but the floodwaters that swept through the town gave them an experience far beyond anything they had anticipated.

"Floodwaters submerged the streets, and the streets became rivers," Stephen says.

On the evening of Oct. 27 water levels in the Huong and Bo rivers exceeded level 3, the highest, submerging many parts of the town under one to two meters of water.

Their rented house was half a meter under water, and the ground floors of surrounding homes seemed to vanish beneath the murky currents.

Boats became the only means of transportation.

Stephen described the atmosphere as surprisingly calm.

"In the U.S., we tend to dramatize everything—a clogged toilet can feel like a catastrophe.

"In contrast, Hoi An's residents remained remarkably composed as they navigated the floods. Their calm shrugs seemed to reflect an entire philosophy of life."

Many said: "We've been through this before. And we'll go through it again."

For Stephen, the resilience seemed understated and real.

"Where I grew up, resilience was just a politician's speech or a hashtag. Here, it's the default way of life."

What moved the couple most was the strong community spirit.

Stranded on their second floor, they watched neighbors wade through chest-high water to deliver food for them even as those enduring their own losses offered comfort to others.

Rachel notes a stark contrast with the U.S., where crisis responses are often slowed by insurance procedures and bureaucracy.

"People want to help, but the system can get in the way."

But in Hoi An, help came immediately.

"No hotlines, no speeches. Authorities sent boats, neighbors brought food, others grabbed brooms. Assistance was everywhere before the media even had a chance to report it."

Here, people help simply because they can—the question is not who needs help, but where I can help, Rachel said.

Hoi An in disarray after historic flood, Oct. 31, 2025. Photo by VnExpress/Nguyen Dong

When the waters receded, the cleanup began at once.

Neighbors showed Rachel and Stephen how to sweep away the mud. After cleaning their rented home, they joined others in the alleys to tidy up together.

"At that moment I truly felt part of this place," Rachel says.

Life resumed quickly. Once the cement floors were visible again, residents set up tables in the alleys, grilling meat and singing karaoke.

Despite the losses, the rhythms of everyday life returned.

Stephen and Rachel have no intention of returning to the U.S.

Life in Hoi An is not easy, but it is profoundly meaningful. Here, they feel valued—not for their skills, but for their presence and willingness to contribute.

"This experience made me feel more authentic—not trying to 'reinvent' myself, but reconnecting with the simplest, kindest aspects of human nature," Stephen says.