-^-for posterity-^-

this afternoon was boring so i decided to walk around aimlessly. i walked in a direction i never head in just to see what there was out there. didn’t get too far before i realized that there was still one war museum that i hadn’t visited.

the ho chi minh city campaign museum. the front area was littered with old tanks and airplanes. they were covered in pealing paint and rust. the yard was not well kept and there were no other tourists there. no other people there. just me and the three ticket takers.

i walked around eerily hearing only my footsteps echo off the stone walls. the museum was dedicated to the fall of saigon and it’s walls were covered with black and white portraits of soldiers. heroes. they’re probably still alive today. old guns and ghostly mannequins lurked around every corner. it was just one of the many memorials around the city recounting its tragic and terrible history. so full of death that it takes four museums to hold it all.

nothing was interesting. i had already grieved for the war and walked around seeing everything but not taking anything in. all the soldiers looked the same. i went upstairs. there was a large golden bust of ho chi minh. it stood at least 10 feet off the ground. like a cross. to my right there were stained glass windows depicting the fall of saigon. soldiers shooting and people dying. just like christian martyrs. everyone seemed to have a holy glow about them and my thoughts raced to the similarities between ideologies be them religious or political.

wall street is mecca.

i left the building. my head was cloudy and my eyes didn’t want to focus. the dead army vehicles caught my attention and i walked around them blankly. then, off in the distance, “hey you!” a small pudgy man called me over to where he was sitting. i walked over slowly, with curiosity. who would be sitting in this parking lot full of dead tanks and planes. what would they want with me.

his face was round and flat. his nose turned up and was his nicest feature. hair fell all over his face and didn’t seem to be cared for. his fingernails were bitten extremely low.

he said, “sit down. i want to know about your culture. what state are you from?” i cautiously told him who i was and what i was doing. he was reading. he asked me if i believed in jesus. i paused. he asked me what kind of christian i was. he said he was baptist and evangelical. he wanted me to get him a visa to study the bible in america. i told him about being a mennonite. told him that we believed that war is morally unjustifiable and a bit about their history in europe. he knew a lot about the history of protestants and talked about luther.

he asked if i wanted to start a mennonite church here. i said i didn’t want to. he didn’t understand. wasn’t i a christian? i told him i wasn’t evangelical. didn’t i have money though? i could “save so many souls.” i seemed to pass the question off and this irritated him.

“what do you do for god?” my head turned towards his. up to this point i wasn’t really taking the conversation too seriously. “well”, i started, “i try to understand the nature of god through thought and meditation. i believe that god is love in its purest form and truth free from relativity. i am constantly searching for god.” that suited him.

our conversation continued and i was concerned (paranoid) that he might be an agent of the state trying to understand my true nature here. i mean, what on earth was he doing reading in the middle of this crazy war museum? all my fears subsided when he started singing, “what a friend we have in jesus.” it was time to go. i couldn’t stop giggling. here i was, in the middle of this war museum listening to a flat faced, pudgy man with no fingernails sing, “what a friend we have in jesus.”

he asked that, before i leave, could i possibly pray for him? sure. why not. i shut my eyes, folded my hands and prayed. i asked that this man find peace and true love. i asked for guidance and what not. it was quite the prayer. as i was standing up he said, “do not tell anyone about me (i already broke that promise. what i guy i turned out to be.) and we’ll see if god answers your prayer. if you have faith then someone will come and visit me and allow me to come to america.”

well, maybe god will answer my prayers and bring this man peace. i walked home thinking about ideology and religion. i went to a museum glorifying the communist victory over saigon and i bowed before the holy statue of uncle ho (figuratively). i walked out into the courtyard and was proselytized to about christianity. what a strange, strange world. where was god in all this?

there was a beautiful blue butterfly that flew all around me. she sat down on a tree in front of me and i watched her twitch and turn. this world is full of mystery. it’s a crazy place if you let it be.