homecoming

Taken again at Đà Lạt from my hotel room. At the time, I liked the idea of a narcissistic flower, but interpret as you will.

Everyone has asked me how my trip was, and every time I reply that it was good because the truth would be too long and complicated. I got to see my family and it was great, but as for my country, I'm not altogether sure. The fields are still there, the grooves, the heat, and as most of you have heard, the mosquitos greeted me quite nicely too. But now the vespas have made room for too many cars. The girls are running around in jeans (with rhinestones!) and the boys sport American Eagle polos. Hands grab mobile phones as lips form English phrases and I'm glad the country is growing in its Industrial Revolution, but the scenes were fake and it all felt ... insincere. I'm not sure how else to put it. Perhaps when two entities starkly contrast, they can coexist in your sphere, but when they begin to overlap, you're forced to compare and choose the better of the two. Perhaps not everything can be amalgamated. Before leaving, my dad corrected me in saying we're going to Vietnam, not coming home to it, that it stopped being our country, stopped being our home the day Saigon fell. And he's right, but no worries about me confusing loyalties. This last visit made me realize I have a new home now.