| click on an image for larger view
 After a  seventeen-hour, tedious, tiring flight – our group of twelve set down on  Saigon’s
  Tan Son Nhat International Airport runway. Passage through  customs was a breeze partly because our  friends Hiep & Xuan had been here  many times before. Cabs with some of Xuan’s family members arrived to bring us  to a sisters home where we would then ride in tandem, with our luggage, on  motor scooters driven by family members, to our little  hotel just a few alleyways away.  Down a dimly lit  lane and amongst family homes neatly stitched together, was an edifice, higher  than most in that vicinity. It was to become our home for the next two weeks.  We were greeted by the family that owned this fairly new structure. Soon to  came to feel that we had become part of that family as well.
 The hotel had no signage or flashy lightning to announce its  presence. Only foreknowledge of its whereabouts could have gotten us there.  It’s exterior would not have attracted us. The facility was, however, very neat  and clean and the structure only six years old. And the cost for a large room  with a balcony, a king size bed and a large bathroom? – about $10 per night.  Gathering Motor scooters  arrive at our hotel. Lot’s of them. On each, a family member or friend of our  friend Xuan. Each of us is whisked away, down one alley, to another until we  arrive, two by two at the home of our friend's sister. We could go no further as  this latest alley comes to an abrupt end at her home. Women are cooking an  assortment of food items I do not recognize. The odors are tempting. Soon  people, mostly relatives, arrive bringing tables, plastic chairs and stools and  sometimes more food items to cook. A brother-in-law (at least I think he’s a brother-in-law)  brings a bottle of his “home brew”. He offers me a shot. Later another shot  until I loose count. It’s potent but the food I have been eating has neutralized  any affect it might otherwise have had. click on an image for larger view          
 The Vietnamese eat  all the time. I wonder why they are all so small? |