Wednesday, January 21, 2009


In the winter of '08 I took a trip to Vietnam, There I met former Guerillas, Motor Bike Mechanics, Tour Guides, Rice-Paper Makers, fishermen, Barbers, Grandmothers, Grandchildren, World Bankers, Smokers, Healers, and a guy with an incredibly long chin hair...The land is dense in every respect, from blue sky to thick clouds, fields to metropoli, capitalism to anti-capitalism, noise to solitude, rich history to the erasure of....It is thick, dense, complicated, and brimming with a dizzying array of life.

A ricepaper maker. This man dries sheets of ricepaper on his roof. He once was a guerilla fighter that fought against France and America. He now bows a Ðàn Gáo beautifully, and strums Woody Guthrie on the guitar poorly.
Nguey was the last of many children who left after swarming my bicycle as I rode through a rural area. According to his fingers he was 8 yrs. old. He spoke no English, I of course (and unfortunately) spoke no Vietnamese. We taught each other language in the mud...Buffalo: Trâu, Insect: côn trùng, Bicycle: xe đạp, Fish: cá, Flying: đang bay. We rode his buffalo home and his family fed me fermented pork wrapped in leaves (A popular snack).

1 comment:

Kristin Bricker said...

You rode a buffalo?!