#and one day i almost photo bombed some wedding photos on accident and it made me think of this

[alsojnpie]

It had never seemed necessary for Papyrus and I to nail down an exact meeting place. “At the park” was always enough for the two of us to find each other. And today, we found each other at the top of the white columned stairs. Well. I guess technically I found him.

It really seemed like he’d been waiting in that exact spot, knowing I was going to be walking that way. But he was watching in the wrong direction; his back turned to me as he waited, watching the stairs. Or maybe he was watching the fountain? Cool air wafted away from flowing water, which I could feel even from across this small plaza. He seemed like he was watching something. I slowed my pace, in order to get a good look at him before he could know that I was watching him.

He was sitting on the wall, leaning forward, with one foot propped up in front of him and the other flat on the ground. A half-eaten lime creamsicle was in his hand, his arm lazily draped over his raised knee.

I guess he must not have been waiting long at all, since he still had popsicle left. As if he was aware of my thoughts, he took a big bite right as I considered it. The wind blew more cool air our way, and ruffled the collar of his too-large shirt and the tall grass on the other side of the wall. I considered, just for a moment, that maybe I should stop walking altogether--just long enough to snap a photo of the picturesqueness of it all. He looked so thoughtful and serious, gazing out towards the lake. Juxtaposed with a popsicle full of lopsided bite marks, this scene was a perfect encapsulation of the monster that was Papyrus.

But I couldn’t. I didn’t have the guts. I didn’t even have the guts to disturb what looked like a satisfying reverie by calling out or otherwise making my presence known. Instead I awkwardly shuffled up to his side and moved to place my hand on his shoulder, but then second-guessed myself and thought, maybe I should tap it instead? It didn’t matter, since he startled and swiveled his head around before I could even decide.

“H...HEY!!” It was always fun to watch his face, and the clear progression of emotions that often played out. Right then it was shock at being approached by a stranger, which instantly gave way to shock at being approached by someone you love, which quickly melted into glee at having been tricked (with a hint of sheepishness for having been facing the wrong way).

“HEH, I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON YOUR WAY UP! WANT SOME?” The softened popsicle was extended towards me. Of course I wanted some, so I obliged him with a slurp that took care of a good half of what was left on the stick.

“..........” His disappointment was palpable, and my sudden guilt must have shown on my face too.

“WAIT, IT’S FINE. REALLY. I OFFERED IT TO YOU, SO...”

“Where’d you get that from, anyway? Do they sell those here??”

“THESE? THESE?? YOU KNOW THEY DON’T SELL THESE HERE! I HAD TO BRING IT WITH.” He gives a good slap to a bag I hadn’t noticed sitting next to him.

“.....They’ll melt.”

“THEY WON’T!”

“Hm. I didn’t know you had popsicle-cooling magic... Neat!” I reached down to the bag, eager for a popsicle of my own and curious about the cooling mechanism.

But the bag was swept away from my grasp, and Papyrus was shaking a finger at me. “YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO GO DIGGING IN MY MAGIC BAG.” He swung his leg over the wall, landing both feet firmly on the ground and standing up straight with an exaggerated gesture. “BUT I AM!” A bright red creamsicle was soon procured, unwrapped and thrust into my hands. I was suspicious of what sort of “magic” was keeping it cold, since it seemed to be already starting to soften, but couldn’t find the heart to complain about getting a treat.

Once Papyrus had started in on his second popsicle (orange this time), the two of us linked arms and began strolling towards the stairs overlooking the lake. From this vantage point, even more of the lake was visible, as well as the vague outline of paths surrounding it on the opposite side. This lake wasn’t particularly big, but it took almost half an hour to walk around a single lap. The paths were forested, at times so thickly that the lake couldn’t be seen, and that made them seem isolated, and longer than they really were. But all of it seemed so much smaller from up here even though it wasn’t that far away at all.

As we began making our way down the staircase, I bit the popsicle with my lips over my teeth then slurped up the melting ice cream inside. It cooled my face but warmed my heart. “You know, I didn’t even realize they still made these popsicles. I used to eat them a lot as a kid.”

“I, DON’T THINK THEY ACTUALLY DO?? YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT A PAIN I WENT THROUGH, TRYING TO FIND THEM!” 

On the lake there wasn’t much visible from here other than a few small paddle boats, but as we got closer I could make out groups of kayakers who seemed to drift effortlessly by.

“IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN THAT LONG AGO THEY WERE DISCONTINUED. I REMEMBER EATING THEM TOO, BACK WHEN THE BARRIER WAS FIRST BROKEN.”

In reality, I knew that the riders were having to work hard to propel their boats forward through the water. I’d never been kayaking, but it had always looked like fun to me. Stealing a glance over at Papyrus, who was still going on about the popsicles, I wondered if it could be a good way to work out together with him, fully expecting that he’d be excellent at it.

Suddenly I realized that my popsicle was gone. “Oh hey...can I have a green one now?” I waved my popsicle stick, licked mostly clean, in front of Papyrus and he grimaced. “It’s been so long since I had these, I forgot how much I liked ‘em.”

“YES, I KNEW YOU HAD EXCELLENT TASTE. OF COURSE I WOULD LOVE TO FETCH YOU A GREEN ONE. BUT I’M NOT YOUR TRASH COLLECTOR! AND IF YOU STICK THAT...THAT STICKY THING IN THE BAG YOU MIGHT-- RUIN THE MAGIC OR SOMETHING!” He made a shooing gesture at my stick, which only made me want to wave it in his face even more. “GO FIND A GARBAGE CAN!”

Seeing as there were no garbage cans nearby, I stuck the stick into my jeans pocket, much to Papyrus’s dismay. But he forgave me enough to serve me a green popsicle after all. This popsicle was suspiciously much softer than the last. “Hey.....you’re not using magic at all, are you?” I squinted at him as almost the entirety of the lime popsicle shell sloughed off in my mouth. “.....*gulp*. You just packed a ton of popsicles and counted on being able to finish them off before they melted.”

Papyrus seemed to be watching the boats on the lake quite intently now but surely he was aware of my accusatory stare out of the corner of his eye. His stern expression twitched with a grin. “I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT."

"..........."

"BUT. I'LL ADMIT THAT IT’S A GOOD THING YOU’RE HERE, SO YOU CAN HELP ME EAT THEM ALL.”

“True. It’ll be a lot of work to finish them all before they melt.”

“WELL, DON’T GET ME WRONG! I COULD MANAGE IT.”

The path down the stairs was lined with shady trees, but the lake itself was surrounded by a sunny, open walkway. I had a feeling that no, he could not manage it. These popsicles were not going to last more than 10 minutes, tops. Even through our combined efforts, there would probably be a couple of melted treats. I slurped up most of the ice cream center as we walked across a platformed break in the stairs, eager to do my part either way. 

But as we stepped down onto the stairs again, I saw something that made me jump in alarm: a wedding party! And their cameras were pointed straight up the picturesque stairs, right at us! Without even thinking, I pulled Papyrus by our linked arms, running back up to the platform before turning off onto a small dirt path running diagonal to the stairs.

The air was heavy and quiet as I pondered whether or not I had photobombed that bride and groom’s photoshoot. Probably so. Even though I hadn’t noticed it until we were very near, that was only because I hadn’t been paying attention. The pictures probably had us there in the background, though it wouldn’t have been very close to the subject. It was a public park, so I couldn’t really feel guilty for it, but even still, I didn’t want to be in some stranger’s wedding photos.

“.......” I wasn’t exactly sure why but suddenly things felt clumsy and awkward. I didn’t know what to say, or whether to say anything, and the little bit of popsicle I had left was completely forgotten. Slowly I turned my eyes up towards Papyrus only to find him calmly nibbling on a new popsicle (a red one now) while looking back in the direction of the couple.

“........HM. YOU THINK....YOU MIGHT WANT TO DO THAT SOMETIME? ME AND YOU?”

My heart, pounding, leapt straight to my throat, blocking out any words or sounds from coming through, while my grip on the popsicle stick tightened. Was this a joke?

No...he was genuinely asking me for an answer, I realized, as he looked down, smiling at me expectantly. But he looked so laid back about it. Somehow, we must have been thinking of two different things.

“U..uh....I, I mean....um...ho-honestly, I’m, I-I’ve.......you know...it feels embarrassing somehow to b-be...honest...but....” My words got quieter as my face got hotter. I went to take a giant bite of the popsicle to cool down, but what had been left of it had already melted and ran down into my fist. 

“HANG ON....OH MY GOD......ARE YOU SCARED OF BEING OUT ON THE WATER???” His suddenly concerned face only confused me even more.

“WAAAAIT, WAIT WAIT WAIT...” Papyrus took a brief look around himself, which at first I took to mean that he was checking to see if anyone was around. But maybe he was looking for a place to hold his popsicle because the next thing he did was quickly suck the whole thing directly off the stick (swallowing it dutifully rather than savoring it, and tossing the stick to the ground), before placing his thick-gloved hands squarely on my shoulders, and leaning in close.

His worried frown was right in front of my face, much closer than it usually happened to be. I tried to listen to him instead of focusing on his features, but it was hard. I hadn’t had this chance to be so close before. His voice wasn’t...quiet... but, it was softer than I expected.

“IT’S OK TO BE SCARED OF THAT. PERFECTLY OK. DON’T....DON’T BE EMBARRASSED. WE DON’T HAVE TO--”

Suddenly everything clicked in my mind. Our eyes met. “To...go kayaking together....?”

“YES. EXACTLY. WE DON’T HAVE TO GO KAYAKING TOGETHER. I’VE NEVER DONE IT MYSELF, BUT....WELL...WHEN I SAW THOSE LITTLE BOATS ON THE BIG LAKE....” He smiled softly, sheepishly even. “I THOUGHT IT LOOKED LIKE FUN.”

Actually, it did sound fun. Really fun. I returned his smile, shyly, even though he didn’t seem to completely understand that look, and grasped his hand, pulling it to my chest confidingly.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too scary....if we were together.”

Sorrowfully, Papyrus shook his head. “THE KAYAK IS A BOAT THAT ONLY FITS ONE PERSON, I’M AFRAID.”

“I meant. Together, in our own boats. Side by side on the water.”

“OH. SURE. YES! I’LL STICK RIGHT BY YOU!!” His grin was nothing short of triumphant.

Then he noticed my hand, clasping his.

“ ............YECCCK!! WHY ARE YOU SO STICKY?!?!?!”

[wonderbryle]

Wake Me Up!

By Frances Bryle Gelvoria (@wonderbryle)

Written: July 25, 2019

You and I are walking on the school ground full of ecstasy. We’re laughing like there’s no tomorrow, as if we’re the sunrise and moonrise of our own world. It feels like we’re cuddling in the soft pillow-like clouds where our feelings are way too far from lies. Your peculiar laugh gave strange jolts that made me cringe for more. Your wavy hair’s like a bizarre set-up of genes making you distinctive, hazel eyes that turn into an ocean whenever I look at it; drowning me into your deep thoughts and emotions. It feels so real and beautiful. BANG! A loud terrifying sound was heard, giving me hasty adrenaline rushes. My tears fell out of nowhere when I turned around; covering your cranium to stop the massive bleeding. You’re lying on the stone-cold floor and I’m stone-cold sobbing. We’re just so ecstatic a moment ago and now what? We’re devastated. I cried and cried screaming for help, but the people around us are just gossiping, doing nothing at all. You’re declared as dead on arrival when we reached the hospital. Nothingness mixed with grief; I’m all blank and I’m sleepy. I can extract tears no more. Your brother, Jethro, sobbing beside me, all soaked up in tears. He’s hugging me as if I’m comforting him, but I’m not. I’m too null and void to comfort him neither myself. Your parents along with your grandma arrived late at the morgue. I saw frustration, grief, blankness, agony, and half-avow written on their faces. Your grandma sat beside me and hugged me too. Our grief and agony were all mixed up making a homogenous solution of sadness. Your mother was shivering when she opened the white cloth covering your cold body. She opened as if there’s a tiny hope living within the corpse. Your father shed tears when he saw you; both panting and mesmerizing their agony.

The investigation was opened by your mother’s will to seek justice within your death. The investigation found out something important, something that will change the whole flow, and something that will be beneficial yet harmful. I was the target of the killing and you‘re just a victim of an accident. Everyone put the blame on me, your parents, your relatives and even the ignorant. But your grandma and brothers didn’t; they protected me. Do re mi by blackbear’s playing loudly along with the irritating vibration. I woke up and found myself crying; losing once again with anxiety. 16th of July 2019. It has been a week.

I have this feeling, a strange feeling that can change my whole identity and the way I respond excluding my sleepiness. I’m so tamper-proofed by anxiety. This feeling has its own way disrupting my adrenaline rushes including my broken body clock. I only ate a cup of rice and a pair of burnt bacon. I went straight to school and I’m very timid at the moment, having no thoughts at all. My dream’s still lingering around my head giving off vibrant concern. It’s 7:10 AM and my concern’s strolling like a slug, slowly eating myself making me vulnerable. Supposedly 7:40 AM is my arrival time, but my arrival today is so early. I waited you for almost fifteen minutes and my body moved by itself; I hugged you tight that I forgot my place. I don’t have the right to hug you because we’re not even close to each other nor I haven’t had the intimacy to hug you. WE’RE JUST FRIENDS. Things got complicated because of that feeling. Today is Tuesday, who am I?

Like my usual self, my body clock’s still broken. I haven’t had enough good sleep since then and I forgot when the last time was. I got up with mixed emotions; disrupted by insomnia. This booze of mine is intolerable. Wednesday is P.E. day, but I’m physically retarded, having no vibrant energy at all. My anxiousness gave spark to my sadness to overflow; drowning my happy thoughts. I CAN’T CONTROL MY ANXIOUSNESS. I arrived at school having no intention to breathe. If I won’t breathe or skip breathing, I’m sure I will die and that would satisfy me.

But I don’t want excruciating death so I have to live. The sadness concealed inside me won’t change and the curtains around me make it worse. We have had a talk, a senile talk about us and all of our clichés. I looked into your eyes and I’m lost in the hazel’s hue like a maze of forests that I can’t escape. The deeper I gaze, the more I can see the sadness within you. One point for me to die early. If we die together, where will our energy go? At some point, I want to die with you.

I remembered all the misfits. This Thursday fits threw back all the melancholic memories. My blood pressure’s rising up and I’m fuming sad; an outrageous human ticking time bomb. School’s also a maligning establishment. High grades matter and I’m tired competing and too tired proving my worth. Thursday’s spooky and I’m tired. Caring for self is over so let’s get wasted. Sad was the wrong term. Sad was something we understood.

Friday sunshine is a blatant lie at all. The way I suppose to wake up seems different. The fact that I’m dull, but I’m not as of today. I woke up filled with polychromatic slugs inside me and the calendar gave me what I wanted– anxiety. This feeling inside me started its motives and YES! I need those to work out. I’m expecting 3rd place and I’m degrading myself; the more I push myself out, the more I get sad, and the more I work out– I’m productive through anxiousness. I placed 3rd to all features (SciTech and Feature Writing) and 4th in Editorial Writing and I’m a little bit degraded. My expectations were correct, but Editorial Writing means a lot for me. Forlorn is with me. I’M FINE. You were 2nd in Feature Writing and my neglects went down. It seems like you wept my awful neglects and I got the conclusion–I LIKE YOU.

I should have taken it a sign that it was the last day of my feeling’s confusion; seeing myself having no happiness, but fondness within. My eyes, teary and full of misery, told a story of love, a story that has no abomination of myself. I jumped out of glee. No! Glee is the word I knew but the feeling’s not. My mind’s fond of the fondness and I was too. That was the last. Telling others what I feel eased the pain, the pain that gave bliss to the misery and misery of the bliss. We could no longer be friends.

I did not realize that I drank too much cold beers since dawn. I know I am drunk and I’m starting to talk nonsense. My head’s dizzy and only you popping up. Why? Is it because I’m afraid that I’ll lose our friendship? My mediocrities disappointed me. It’s all ending, isn’t it? I can’t sleep and my tipsiness won’t work. Insomnia’s eating my whole energy making me hyperactive. Alcohol’s not working and I’m so sure sleeping pills won’t work too. Maybe I’m too lost and maybe I can’t win. I’m always been a loser; family, friends, talents, pride and hope. I can see myself dying, am I not?

I’m afraid you’ll see the different side of me. The way I whisper to my shadows, and the way I hurt myself. Maybe you won’t understand me at all. I’M UNWELL. We all have sadness and that makes us whole. Maybe I’m vague and irrational. But one thing’s for sure, I built a wall and distanced myself and which I remorse, a havoc regenerated.

Animal’s squad is having a gathering, embracing memories and making a video for Nathalie’s birthday presentation, our former classmate and a member of our squad. You and I are seatmates and my eye’s faking, vigorously laughing in pain. We’re laughing our dirty and humiliating hilarious pictures taken months and years ago. I did not realize that I starred longer. That boy in the photo having those eyes shimmering in joy and a truest smile, certainly taken on a Saturday, is far different from the reflection of melancholic eyes and obsolete smile I saw before I left my house. Today is Monday, and tomorrow I will be peculiar, but who knows?

You’re so handsome in suit in front of the altar waiting for us. Beside me is Airah, my bestfriend, all dressed up in wedding gown. I’m seeing myself smiling while walking on the carpet; eyes with no misery and a boy with no confusion–the total opposite of who I am. We’re walking in a specific time frame, in slow motion, all in happiness. We arrived and I handed the hand of your soon-to-be-wife and went to the front seat with the bridesmaid. I can see us happy, hearts jumping out of glee, the truest glee ever encountered. I took time when I figured out that I’m the groomsman, but why? Airah’s parents, Aunt Arianne and Uncle Rex sat beside me in tears, tears of joy and love; seeing their daughter’s getting married to the man I loved the most. I cried and cried listening to your exchanges of vows and wedding rings. Is this acceptance? Maybe acceptance is what I need, the thing I forgot to live with. I went to the comfort room to comfort myself and your brother saw me. He thought I’m devastated and hugged me tight similar to my dream. At some point, dying with you isn’t the solution. You have your supportive family; your parent’s unconditional love and your brother’s overflowing love and empathy. You don’t deserve to die. If my love for you is like that, I don’t want it. Please wake me up! 26th of July 2019.

I sighed.

[Photo source: https://www.artmajeur.com/en/musicaroundus/artworks/12824861/abstract-praise-sleeping-beauty]

[newflanagansonthebloch]

Day 12, April 18, 2019: Cu Chi Tunnels, Saigon & Vespa Food Tour PART 1

We get up in our nicely air conditioning room and head from the sixth to the eighth floor where breakfast is served. At the Majestic Hotel, due to construction, you eat on the rooftop which affords us picturesque views of the Saigon River. Passion fruit and a selection of cheese makes this girl happy. Cheese is a limited commodity here because there aren’t really dairy cows. Butter is imported in those horrible individual packets from New Zealand. There are some dairy cows imported from New Zealand tentativeness Residence in the north though.

It’s before 8am and we can feel the famous heat of the Southern region. Last week temperatures hit 41C and we are lucky that today is almost ten degrees cooler.

At 8:00 we meet Thuy, our guide and board a small speed boat with Fish Eye Tours. This is the kind of boat you’d take water skiing perhaps. We head about an hour north on the river toward the famous Cu Chi Tunnels.

The river is a murky brown and there are water hyacinths everywhere. However, evidently, in late seasons, the water has even more hyacinths making it practically impossible to navigate the waters by boat. Our engine gets caught in the plants, as well as the unfortunate plastic bags, on a few occasions. Large boats are also everywhere and sun tanned men man these ships drudging sand from the bottom of the river to turn into cement. It’s crazy how low some of these boats sit in the water!

On the way to Cu Chi, over the noise of the boat engine, our guide Thuy, tells me her story. I calculate that she’s in her mid thirties. She has two surviving siblings—a brother and a sister. Both siblings are married to those in or connected to the Communist Party. When she was 16 another of her brothers died in a road accident. Her parents have passed. She is married to a Catholic man who is one of 9. He doesn’t seem very pro-communist. He sells medical devices, which Thuy explains does not have the same kind of “excellent job” status that it has in the US. Thuy is also the mother of three daughters, aged 7, 4 and 2. She had the first when she was 29, but was married at 24.

She asks us if we have any dietary restrictions and we explain that Kerran doesn’t eat crustaceans. She asks if it’s dislike, allergies or “like in Judaism where you can’t eat certain things.” This is a super unique response—most people don’t know much about Judaism here or have met many Jews. Thuy is the exception. She’s surprised and excited to hear we’re Jewish. How does she know so much? Thuy’s second daughter has a very rare condition that affects no more than 175 people around the globe. A friend of Thuy’s who resides in NJ and is a doctor helped connect Thuy to a hospital in St Louis Missouri who provides free treatment (including multiple surgeries) for her daughter. While treatment is free, room, board and flights are not. This NJ friend connected with a local synagogue asking if they would be willing to take in a Vietnamese woman and her daughter while she was undergoing medical treatment. Five families offered to host her. It’s the kind of story that makes you remember that there is truly good in the world. She stayed with a family for four months who kept kosher. It’s also a testament to Thuy and her ability to forge friendships, and also explains her excellent English.

We finally arrive at the famed Cu Chi Tunnels and are enveloped by the loudest Cicadas we’ve heard yet. While the tunnels are famous for their use during the Vietnamese American war, the reality is that they were begun much earlier in the 1940s during the Vietnamese resistance to the French. Back then approximately 48km of Tunnels existed. By the end of the American war however, the tunnels totaled a distance of 250km.

In the beginning of the American war, the tunnels were mostly for bomb shelters and storing weapons. The majority of the locals supported the North. Over time these tunnels grew and 2000 people could be underground carrying out every day life like school and childbirth. In reality more could have fit, but there was only air for 2000z The tunnels were strategically located halfway between Saigon (approx 60km) and the Cambodia (approx 50km) boarder and Ho Chi Minh Trail. Weapons to arm the Northern army and guerilla fighters passed through Cu Chi to Saigon. They often hid weapons under vegetables etc to disguise them in transit.

The visit to the tunnels begins with a pretty strong anti-American film that glorifies life in the tunnels even when we know the conditions were harsh. It mentions a lot of war heroes as “American Killers”

The tunnels themselves have three layers, and the deeper layers were constructed during the American war mostly. The first layer is about 3m deep. The second is 4-6meters deep and the deepest layer is 8-10 meters underground. The width of the tunnels vary depending on use, and today the tunnels you can go in are actually enlarged (and they are honestly not that big!) all of the tunnels were dug by bamboo sticks and baskets. They did this at night and moved the dirt to the river or the rice fields. Within the network of tunnels are meeting rooms, artillery storage, bedrooms, schools, air vents camouflaged as termite mounds, and even a well. There is a kitchen they used only in the early morning so the smoke would blend in with the mist. The vents came out through bamboo forests. There are secret entrances and trap doors and most of the ways in are tiny holes that the lithe Vietnamese could fit in but the larger Americans could not. At one point the Americans even built a base on top of Cu Chi. It took them some time, and the assistance of German shepherds, to even learn they were here.

There are some mannequins all over the place and we can see the green uniforms that belong to the NVA and the identical but black uniforms belonging to the Viet Cong guerrillas. The northern troops used green to camouflage during the day and the VC wore black to better hide at night. The VC also included women. There is an US M41 tank destroyed by a land mine in 1970. This was a heavily bombed area and there are numerous bomb craters to show it. After the war they found an average of 3kg of bomb covering every square meter. The VC used the remains of American bombs and weapons to construct their own. They created numerous types of painful looking traps that a staff member demos for you. It’s easy to see how the local people used their knowledge of this place to defeat the Americans.

There is a really touristy shooting range near the tunnels which is also super loud. Kerran decides he does want to try the gun with the largest ammo available, the M30. AK47s were the most popular at the time though. I pass on this as it just seems like a creepy place to shoot a gun.

We walk on and go inside the tunnels which as I mentioned have been slightly enlarged. I don’t love small spaces so I obviously can’t believe people lived like this! We also get to see the shoes the VC wore—similar to what we saw in Africa, these are sandals made of tires. The difference here is that the VC wore them backward to make footprints appear they were moving in the opposite direction. Everything is so clever.

Nearby the kitchen area there are jugs of tea and tapioca plant for you to try. The plant itself tastes potato like, but a little more delicious when you dip it in crushed salt and peanut. This is one of the things they ate in the tunnels. The tea is made with the Pandan leaf.

After we wrap up our sweaty visit to the tunnels we get back on the speed boat. We didn’t realize before, but the water hyacinths float, and more are coming together everywhere we turn. On our way to lunch we snack on some Rambutan fruit which is a member of the lychee family, as well as a little dragon fruit which evidently is good for your skin. I love that everyone here espouses the health benefits of whatever fruit your consuming. I can use it because all this sweat and sunscreen is making me break out!

The majority of the dredging and fishing boats here in Vietnam have eyes. This is because a long time ago when the area still was home to animals like tigers and crocodiles, the people believed that painting eyes on the boats would make the animals believe they were an even bigger scarier animal. Today, it’s important that boats can “see” and the eyes bring them good luck.

We stop for lunch along the river at what Thuy tells us is probably the largest restaurant in Saigon. It’s also a popular destination for wedding photos. In Vietnam, wedding photos are taken as far as two months before the wedding. The package even includes a dress (and probably makeup!) The photos are displayed at the actual wedding itself (where you wear a different, rented dress!). The place is beautifully picturesque and it’s easy to forget you’re anywhere near a city at all. The amount of food brought to us however is overwhelming. There are spring rolls, rice, hot pot (which is way too hot). There is chicken satay, and steamed veggies and my favorite: pork in clay pot with caramel sauce which is kind of like a sparerib. As always, there is customary tea served with all this.