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motorcycles with four people on them. motorcycles with three people on them. motorcycles with five people on them. people carrying large panes of glass between them. people carrying baskets of live ducks. people carrying chickens upside down so that when they go through high water their heads are submerged. people carrying large blocks of ice.

i’ve never done something so crazy, but the other day my mother, brother and i did ride three people on one bike.

it was a narrow squeeze. i was driving and had to sit on the gas cap for the whole ride. to say the least it wasn’t comfortable. when you sit that far up on a bike you can’t shift the gears properly. my mother sat behind me with her feet on the pegs. she didn’t say much sandwiched between her two sons. my brother sat behind her trying not to fall off. he didn’t have any place to put his feet. he kept yelling things like, “i’m gonna fall off!”

we went to get something to eat. the motorcycle whined and moaned and complained the whole way. bumps caused all of us to rock up and down like we were on a boat.

i used to think i got stared at a lot. people would slow their motorcycles down and glance at me, people would yell from the side of the road, others would point. i thought it was just par for the course. having three americans on a motorcycle in a part of the world where you rarely ever see one american on a motorcycle is almost too much. there’s just a bit too much there for people to process.

we didn’t get stared at, we got open mouth gawking. there were no points or hello’s, there was only blank faces and surprised eyes. we had broken the world’s record for the amount of white people in a confined space in long xuyen.