Nom! Sansan.

After the war, the new Vietnamese communist government had to rebuild the country and reorganize everything.  From an outside view, the changes were all a façade.  The government pretended to be okay and pretended to be doing well on its own.  Realistically today, the people still experience the devastation left by the war.

My dad once said, “Vietnam was rising before the Vietnam war.  It could have been successful as South Korea is today if it wasn’t for that war.”

When visiting Vietnam, it is easy to see how industrious the people are.  They make the best out of very little.  Fix and reuse is their motto.

The souvenirs are very fun because they are all made of simple materials, but they depend on the artist’s creativity to create something amazing.  My family visited a zoo one rainy day.  We all bought cheap plastic ponchos.  The zoo resembled more like an abandoned palace or a cemetery.  Dark concrete structures rose from the ground in the damp forest.  The tall trees sagged and dripped from the rain.  The broken rock path led the way around the compound.  There were hardly any animals out, except for a hippo that stunk bad.  I thought it might have been dead.

Down the path a little farther, there was a old woman selling snacks.  We bought some and munched during our break.  An old man was with the woman.  He was selling something too: silhouetted portraits.  All the kids got one.  The old man did not have a projector of light to cast a shadow to trace our silhouettes.  Rather, he told us to look sideways and held up a black piece of paper and began to cut.  It was amazing.  I watched him punch out the exact silhouette of my cousin.  He did not trace anything beforehand and never once did he hesitate.  As he cut, he smoothly rotated the paper until he finished.

I was excited when he did mine.  I stood very still.  When he finished, he glued the portrait onto a piece of cardboard decorated with red and white paper.  He handed it to me and I examined it very carefully.  It had the long cheeks and stubby chin I recognized.  A photograph couldn’t have captured me better.

That silhouette will always remind how amazing people can be.

At the instant the plane descended into the lower atmosphere, a wave of humidity almost knocks me out.  Even in the cabin of the plane, the heat makes my clothes stick and the air feels like a mass in my lungs.  As I step out of the plane, a wave of carbon monoxide washes over me and I fight to breathe.  I was still in the safety of the terminal.  Outside, the sun feels like it is pushing down high above us.

There are so many people outside.  We are all divided by a metal fence.  Everyone is facing each other, looking and looking, shouting at each other.  Arms flail around attempting to make a signal in the crowd.  I fight harder to breathe.  I’m being shoved around clinging to my backpack.  My eyes scan the crowd too, but find nothing familiar.

Eventually I get pushed to the front of the crowd and make my way through the fence.  Two small girls push their way to me.  They shove water bottles into my hands as if they know me.  Their skin is dark as if they spent everyday of their lives underneath this sun.  Their clothes are thin and colorful with childish characters printed on the pockets.  They stare at me and I continue to hold onto the bottles and return the stare.

“Mom, she gave me water bottles,” I say.  My mind is blank.  I give confused looks to the girls and my mom, expecting them to exchange warm welcomes of familiarity but none of that happens.

“You’re suppose to pay for that,” my mom says and searches through her purse.  She hands the girls some bills.  They break their stare, suddenly turn their backs to me and push their way back towards the fence.

I can’t see anything past people’s heads.  I hold tightly to my mom who is barely taller than me and let her shove through the crowd.  Another wave hits me with sewage and sweat.  Everyone is touching me all at once and I continue to catch my breath.