Vietnam

I remember being seven years old and listening to my dad's coworker talk about how when he was in Vietnam they put a Christmas tree on top of all the body bags they had stacked on Christmas day. Vietnam has always been a time and not a place.

I was raised on Vietnam stories and movies. People I know were personally affected by Vietnam (whether through the loss of a loved one or the loss of innocence). (I remember a friend telling me, "Yes, my mother said my dad was never the same after Vietnam.") It was (and to still a degree) the largest wound that America has ever born. It is a word that still evokes much rancor: "We don't want another Vietnam." [or] "This is becoming another Vietnam."

So I'm writing this in Vietnam tonight. There is not much here yet that makes me think of an old war (is the war old now?). There's just motorbikes beyond imagination, houses painted a dozen different colors (purple, blue, yellow, green), people sitting on door stoops, and tourists drinking beer in outdoor cafes. It's just an ordinary day in an ordinary city.