Sweet Memories of Vietnam

Beth and I arrived in Saigon (HCMC) after spending an extra day getting a visa in Bangkok. Our friend, Mai Anh, sister of Chao Anh our store mgr, came to pick us up at the airport but we took too long and so she returned home after a three-hour wait.

We didn't know her last name, we didn't know her phone number or address! And so we went to a hotel next to the noodle restaurant our president of the '90s, Bill Clinton, went to in his day
as our leader.

At the hotel we recovered from driving in the "Sea of Motorbikes." There are probably only five stoplights in Saigon because the traffic flows along and everyone gives way when they see what you are doing! The hotel waiter told us to just keep moving as he demonstrated the little walk we would do in traffic, which was like a very slow surf moving toward the sand. This motion tells the cyclists and "autoist" our intended direction and allows safety as we, too, walked toward the noodle restaurant, Pho 2000.

We were also told to keep our belongings inside as pickpockets were on the ready; we knew this but were happy to be reminded that nothing else would threaten us. We practiced "Gaam ong" for "thank you," reminding Beth of her grandson's favorite phrase, "Come on!" -- the constant desire for moving to the next thing in his world!

Through the magic of telecommunications, pleas and insistence, Mai Anh came to pick us up the next day, and we were on to our adventure of shopping to save our store (I work, Beth owns) and found wonderful luxurious clothing for Oakland from Vietnam.

We enjoyed the constant smiles of the people who forgive and move on, trust the American people to be of good will and befriend us as we enter their country with awe, open hearts and appreciation. Our hotel had no wifi, just lots of very sweet people, serving us incredible breakfast with coffee better then Peets in our own little drip-pot of saucers, lids and filter.

Our very favorite experience was being drenched with rain in the little motorboat from which we saw the Mekong Delta. Our guide gave us each life vests to keep our bellies dry as we looked out on the gray sea spattered with lime-size rain drops, creating circles which merged into each other as they disappeared into the depths of the water. We were covered in water as was everyone in our clouded sea at that moment in time. The shore was green, the market was motoring along, and we were immersed in the coolness of the moment.

- Lynne Z