-^-for posterity-^-

the allure of the streets grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. my gray, soviet bicycle carried me to all corners of this mysterious city. today i really lived.

i hoped on my steed early this afternoon. the heat of the day had driven some people from the roads but those of us who had pressing issues pedaled on. my pressing issue was exploration and adventure. i love feeling the bike strain under me as i head off. i love the effect of having only one gear. there is so much effort required to start pedaling.

first, i headed to send some postcards. traffic was light and i was sweating quickly. one small post office couldn't handle what i required. an old lady came from the back and explained to me how much it would cost. i understood only pieces but pretended to be right with her. deceiving her was fun. she left and told me to head off to the large post office. i left grinning.

the big post office is located right next to the cathedral. the church is placed in the middle of the road and there's a picture of a very sad virgin mary looking off in the distance. for a moment i was shocked at how sad her marble face looked. it quickly passed. the post office is ornate and looks like a barn. the front opens like a mouth into the street spitting people to and fro. i asked a very small man to watch my bike. he smiled and mumbled something. his face was like a dried piece of beef. flesh hanging on ancient bone.

i mailed my letters and came out to find my friend waiting for me by my bike. he was smiling and someone was waiting with him. turns out that his friend had come out early but they had waited for me in any case. what generosity. trust and faith. do nothing out of fear.

i left to drop off some film. heading down into the tourist area is always makes me nervous. many white faces looking at me on my old bicycle. either they're jealous of curious. i pedal furiously to keep up with the motorcycles. it's hard to breathe and the sun is ferocious. sweat. i arrive and talk to the people behind the counter. they know me and we're all smiles. if my job description here was to make friends, i have succeeded.

i left and pedaled back towards home. from my house to the center of saigon is downhill. from saigon to my house it's just the opposite and the sun wasn't giving me any relief. i pedaled and stopped. pedaled and stopped. breathed heavily, looked at people, peddled and stopped.

before i arrived at home i stopped for a plate of goi. it's a hilarious dish of shaved papaya, dried beef and some mint leaves. it's all covered in some sweet sauce that's a little spicy. it's terrible tasty. that refueled my tank and i was off.

i love driving a bike around this great city. it feels like i'm breaking some kind of societal barrier. the only people who drive bicycles are poor people or students. no white faces at all. the only white faces are riding around in tourist cyclos or driving very nice motorcycles. people standing in ditches with their shirts off digging stare at me. people selling fruit on the corner stare at me. poor people stare at me. they're not staring at me because i'm a white face. they're not staring at me because i'm doing something wrong. they're staring at me because i'm becoming one of them. i'm pedaling and sucking in exhaust. i'm sweating and avoiding the city busses. in a way, it feels like i'm doing something good.