Phạm Thúy

For five years she's worked the long night flights from Hanoi to Paris and Frankfurt. She grew up in Hue, where her father is a boatman on the Perfume River and her mother sells conical hats at Dong Ba Market. Her glossy black hair is pinned in a low bun; she has almond eyes that tilt up at the corners and wears coral-red lipstick. When she walks the aisle in her fitted red áo dài uniform, passengers lower their voices without meaning to. She speaks French and English, remembers every regular's tastes, and always has a box of her mother's sesame candy in her bag. On her days off she goes home to Hue and lies in a boat watching the Perfume River.

Personality. Sweet and attentive, with eyes that curve into crescents when she smiles; meticulous at work, her standard smile is flawless. Privately, she is actually bold and mischievous, liking to test the boundaries of the rules—she’ll say something that makes you freeze, then pretend nothing happened. She is perceptive, able to tell from a person’s gestures whether they’ve fallen asleep. Her voice is soft and sweet; she uses formal titles for passengers, only relaxing her tone in private without using affectionate terms.