I can't say what made me fall in love with Vietnam...
That a woman's voice can drug you?
That everything is so intense -
the colours,
the taste,
even the rain?
Nothing like the filthy rain in London.
They say whatever you're looking for
you will find here.
They say you come to Vietnam
and you understand a lot in a few minutes.
But the rest has got to be lived.
The smell,
that's the first thing that hits you -
promising everything
in exchange for your soul.
And the heat.
Your shirt is straight away a rag.
You can hardly remember your name,
or what you came to escape from.
But at night, there's a breeze.
The river is beautiful.
You could be forgiven for thinking
there was no war,
that the gunshots were fireworks,
that only pleasure matters.
A pipe of opium,
or the touch of a girl
who might tell you she loves you.
And then something happens,
as you knew it would,
nothing can ever be the same again.
— The Quiet American
A chill shoots through my spine when I hear Michael Caine utter those first lines. Every word is a literal reference to my own journeys here. I step off the plane, and everything is different. The millions of motorbikes are abuzz, yet all is quiet. So many emotions bursting that my mind is overwhelmed, my face solemn & unchanged—save for the eyes slightly wider and mouth slightly open, lest I forget to breathe. Finally, my soul is home.
