The year I was there, for example, was the year America began opening up ties with Vietnam again, and Bill Clinton became the first American President to visit since the War. I went to the pho shop where Bill Clinton ate, and his photo hangs on the wall. I wrote poetry about Ben Thanh market and the Saigon River, which I sent to
I wrote a poem about the American War Crimes Museum that eventually became a longer piece I finished last year and submitted as part of a final project for a poetry class. And a flash story about the balcony of the hotel apartment I stayed in for a month that was also published. I made a lot of sun dresses I never wore more than once. I bought a couple of beaded denim bags I wore till the straps started to wear out. And I have a plastic bag of tiny glass animals. My final day there, I dreamt that my second last hamster died and came to me to say goodbye. I went home the next day and found out it died the hour I touched down.
And I started writing a story about the River Saigon, and a restaurant shaped like a catfish I sat on when I was 20. Maybe I'll finish it soon.
- Current Mood:
thoughtful
Comments