-^-for posterity-^-

there aren't too many old people in these parts. war and what not has taken its toll.

i sat down for a cup of coffee this afternoon at my favorite coffee shop. one of the waitresses asked me to tell her something about america. i asked her what she wanted to know. she wasn't sure what she wanted to know. she wanted to know something. i told her about diversity, how expensive things were and how different life really is. she stood there and listened as i spoke. she didn't have any questions afterwards. how do you sum up my country in a 5 minute speech given to a waitress in a coffee shop?

i sat and read from a book and sipped violently strong coffee. a man sat down across from me. this isn't all together uncommon. sometimes you'll look up from your book and there'll be a random person sitting across from you. they're always men. they're usually young and they normally stare at you as if you're an animal.

today was different. an ancient looking man sat down across from me. his ears had grown into gigantic saucers. his face was wrinkled and sagged. he was missing teeth in all the right places. if he had teeth in the top of his mouth, he was missing the teeth directly below them. if he had teeth in the bottom of his mouth, he was missing teeth directly above them. when he shut his mouth, it was like a giant jigsaw puzzle magically fitting into place. he wore an old hat with a button on it. it used to be white. he wore glasses that were obviously repaired a number of times. they were silver and circular and had marks from soldering all over them. he had what amounted to a mustache. it was more like thirty or forty grey and black hairs spread out across his top lip. he wore old clothes.

he asked me a question, at first hesitating. i asked him if he wanted a cup of coffee. he ordered and we sat for a bit.

the man was 81 years old. he saw france, japan, britain and america come storming through the south. i was interested to know what he remembered. the whole time i was plotting how i would ask him. i had to yell at him and speak slowly and as clearly as possible.

he used to work as a truck driver driving between saigon and long xuyen. he did that for about forty odd years. he couldn't remember. he had 9 children and could not describe what they all did. he said most of them bought and sold things to make a living.

he was very interested to hear how much money i made, who took care of me and where i was staying. he was very proud of the fact that the vietnamese paid for my salary, my house and all my expenses. he told me that was very good.

i brought up the question. 'what do you remember from when the french were here?' i had to repeat it twice and very loudly. it felt awkward being said in a crowded coffee shop. everyone turned their head. he looked at me after the question registered in his head. he frowned a bit. i realized i had walked too quickly into a place i shouldn't have been. he said, 'i remember when the americans were here there was a teacher who was as handsome as you and who could speak vietnamese as you can who taught english in long xuyen.'

i said i was sorry.

he changed the subject by asking if i had a wife. i said no, i hadn't. he told me that i needed to find a vietnamese wife and fast. i was in the prime of my life and there were so many beautiful vietnamese girls around. he said that veitnamese wives were the best. they would make you feel comfortable, clean up for you. you lived like a king. i told him i was trying to find a vietnamese wife. that's my cookie cutter answer.

the conversation ended and i had to go to work. i said goodbye and paid for both of us. he stood up, took my hand and reverently bowed. he respected me by calling me a teacher. he could have waved and given a half-hearted smile. he didn't. he, the man who has so many changes, so many countries entering his and telling them what was right and wrong rose, bowed and respected me in ways that i surely didn't deserve.