From Hanoi, where it is cold. If you’re reading this, I probably miss you.
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“I’ve been manywheres in Vietnam,” said my friend Lan, a Vietnamese music journalist, over dinner last night at a sushi bar.
“You’ve been everywhere in Vietnam?” I asked, unsure of what I’d heard.
“No, not everywhere,” she said. “But manywheres.”
I was laid up earlier this week, all coughing and feverish like some 19th century tragic heroine. After months of traveling Southeast Asia almost illness-free, I find Saigon taking its toll on me lately. Vietnamese people tell me it’s probably because of the changing seasons– from hot and rainy to hot and less rainy.
Personally, I’ve identified a few other factors contributing to my recent lack of robustness & sanguinity:
1. The air I breathe. The air quality here absolutely sucks. This is no surprise in a city of more than seven million people, all of whom are on their motorbikes right this second. I go outside with a Cambodian krama scarf wrapped around my face half the time. You think I am exaggerating about the motorbike traffic, but I promise you, it is the first thing you will notice when you come to Ho Chi Minh City.
When are you coming, anyway?
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