-^-for posterity-^-

last night we were taken to the only disco in long xuyen.

i have traveled to dance clubs in america and spain and find them to be fascinating. hundreds of people all bouncing and gyrating this way and that to bouncing music so powerful it seems to even control the beat of your heart.

in america clubs vary from the small, bluffton variety to the larger philadelphia variety. in philadelphia, clubs are meccas for the insecure to dance their fears away in a place that removes the majority of your senses. you can’t hear anything because the music is too loud. a conversation requires a trip to the bathroom. you can’t see anything because the lights are either off or randomly flashing in your eyes. there are also roving bands of beefy men dressed in black making sure everything is kosher. you have to walk through metal detectors and pay ten dollars to enjoy all of this.

in spain clubs were slightly different. well, i take that back. things were exactly the same except they were open much later. they usually closed at five or six in the morning while the american variety closes from two to three.

this vietnamese club was different in a number of ways. you entered the club feeling quite important. there were black doors and curtains and large men standing about. you could hear the music thumpidy-dumping from inside and were sure people were having lots of fun. you walked in past the head security guard (who was wearing a shirt that looked like it belonged to someone who piloted planes in the 80’s and old, army issue pants) and entered the allure.

inside you found table after table of people sitting around talking. talking in a dance club. the music was still deafening and the lights still had a habit of blinding you whenever you began to look around but people were sitting around trying to have conversations. oh, yes, there was a small dance floor but it was no bigger than my living room. it sank into the floor somewhere in the middle and the tables and chairs were placed around in a semi-circle.

most of the people there were high school students. they had dyed hair and the newest fashions on. it was valentines day.

the dance floor was empty when our group entered. it slowly filled (it’s not hard to fill a fifteen by fifteen foot space) and people bounced aimlessly as everyone else tried to jabber over the thump of the bass. in the middle of the show there was a valentines day raffle. everyone sat around waiting to see who would win what and, don’t you know, a girl from our group had a winning ticket. being shy, she didn’t want to go to the front so they decided that i should go up. i wasn’t really a part of this decision and found myself being dragged up by another girl. so, i found myself in front of a large group of high school students with an older lady that i didn’t even know about to accept a prize that i didn’t even win.

the man with the microphone was a small man with a happy, round face. he had a large mole hair growing from the left side of his neck. he asked us our names and we answered. he found out i spoke some vietnamese and wanted me to say something in front of everyone. by this point my legs were actually shaking. i’m pathetic.

i said some ramblings and everyone clapped and they gave us our prize. i went back to my seat and the dancing (if that’s what it can be called) commenced.