-^-for posterity-^-

mr. khoa and me go out to eat. the night is warm and the air is thick. the air always feels thick here. like paste seeping down into your lungs. one week left in saigon and i have to say good bye to all of my temporary friends.

we eat at our usual restaurant. the owners haven’t seen me for a couple days and are very concerned. i explain that i’ve been traveling and then i tell them i’ll be leaving next week. they’re shocked. i must repeat myself a couple of times before it sets in. you mean you won’t be eating here every day? mr. khoa didn’t know either. we sit around awkwardly for a moment. they told me to bring my camera tomorrow and we would all take pictures. i told them that when i came back to ho chi minh city that i’d visit them.

mr. khoa and i drive around. he wants to go somewhere and i’m in no mood to argue. we drive out of the city to a friend’s house but no one’s home. movement is perpetual here. noise is also ubiquitous. right now, as i sit in my room four floors above the ground and 100 yards from the road i can hear the honking of the trucks.

he’s noticeably peeved and we drive back to the center of life here. we find another one of his friend’s houses and we go in and sit around chatting. mr. khoa’s friend’s wife is in the united states for some reason that i couldn’t quite understand. she’s coming back next week and he had pictures of her posing all over las vegas. was i ever in las vegas? is it close to new york? (i explain that i’m from philadelphia. when they don’t know where that is i say it’s close to new york. they all know new york.) i explain to them that las vegas is about as far from my home as bejing is from here.

we watched mtv. horrible. it was a combination of boy bands from the mid nineties. the plastic expressions and frosted hair were unnerving. the pseudo-emotion was enough to make me sick. mr. khoa and his friend really seemed to like it. it’s odd watching two old vietnamese men watch a teenage boy look into the camera, stretch out his arm and sing, “tonight i give you all my love.” right about the tv was the ancestral alter. i wonder what mr. khoa’s friend’s father would have said about all of this.

he probably would have sat there and watched too.

we drove home and mr. khoa pointed to the remains of the building that had burned a couple of weeks ago. reports said that anywhere from 100-300 people died there. he said in his rudimentary english, “big fire. big. just like new york.” he kept repeating, “just like new york.” made me think.