I am always fascinated by the living elements: culture and day to day existence. While traveling by foot through Saigon I notice these things, the human components of life here.Clothes lines hang still in window after window of buildings that seem to touch the sky. Traffic circles bustle with buses and motorbike riders donning helmets and face masks. Occasionally I feast my eyes on a leathery old man with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. The heat is oppressive and my clothes are soaked with sweat.
Women hold the position of trash collector in orange jumpsuits like prison suits. They wear rice patty hats and maneuver straw brooms in grimy gutters. I wonder how they bare the heat and the smells; realizing quickly that lifestyle is relative. Portable generators buzz up and down the sidewalks and every few feet a rooster is caged against the steaming cement.
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