The coffee in Vietnam is absolutely delicious, every time. I leave HCMC tonight and return to Singapore. This has been an interesting and exhausting trip. The heat is oppressive and the odors have not ceased to overwhelm me. The city is so stimulating that I have gone to my room on occasion to lay silent in the dark; anyone who knows me understands the rarity of this. I have found it impossible to stay clean. I find my own sweat a blessing for the touch of a fan.
I've been messing about all day. Ducking in and out of art and handicraft stores along the dusty streets. I found a wonderful store filled with old war propaganda posters tucked back in an alleyway.
Last night a woman on the back of a motorbike tried to steal my bag. Ninja-like, a grabbed her arm with the hand that was not gripping my bag and nearly pulled her from her seat. My instincts did not fail me, I let go. I'm thankful to not
have been in a scuffle in the streets of Saigon. My bag and person unscathed, I feel fortunate. I am not offended; desperation and opportunism are rife the world over. I however, was misjudged.Early dinner on Bui Vien Street. Chaos. Pure Chaos. Tiger beer and steaming Pho in the sweltering heat. Women fuss over babies and toddlers that seem completely unimpressed. Street vendors sit idle and bored in tiny squares of shade from the harsh afternoon sun. Motorbikes. Motorbikes. Motorbikes. Every now and then a breeze dashes quickly through the narrow corridor and there is a collective sigh of relief. Uncontrollable sweat. Backpackers look lost. Toilet paper serves as napkins and I have over spiced my Pho again. The pain is more intense in the city heat. Strangely, I like it. Women wear patterned jumpsuits that look pajamas. I think they are pajamas.
I've just come from a beauty shop. A street side Vietnamese "spa" with pictures of drawn-on fingernails and white women with fancy haircuts taped
to the windows. Waxing, manicure and pedicure for 18 USD. Better results than I have had in the states for ten times the price. Conditions were questionable. Guilt about the price. I over-tipped. My nails look perfect.Dark now. They just put Beyonce on the radio. My meal cost no more than 2 dollars. Again I over-tip. How very American of me.
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