Saturday.05.01.04
one last song for the afternoon hour [ ] - quoc viet - -@_.com @ 1:37pm
in my uncle’s house in the middle of the countryside i sit on newly furnished white tiles, the smoothness a cool comforting touch to my bare feet.
“i bet the countryside seems so different from America, doesn’t it?” one of my uncles asks me.
i walk out and stand on top of ledge sticking out of a column. far off the mountains are dim in the background, green rice paddies level on the ground below. in some areas Thanh Long fruit fields cover the land with prickly fingerlike leaves. a few buffalos and cows stand still in the distance, like motionless figurines placed for visual effect. i breath in deep so many times my lungs almost feel cleared of the muck and haze of Saigon’s polluted air. i feel at peace, something i haven’t felt in a long time. my uncle remarks,
“the countryside is beautiful only if you return to it once in awhile from the city. it’s boring being here all the time.”
later we walk through a valley walled by steep mounds of bright red sand, the rocky surroundings crumbling in your hands if you press hard enough. we walk barefoot, the six of us, on the sandy path between. a small current flows over the sandy floor, washing our feet, a stream of cool and pure comfort. the path weaves through, children run around splashing, and the occasional Vietnamese tourist treads through with camera in hand. the scenery then changes to towering coconut trees, arching their trunks into the valley and up into the sky. my uncle points to the sky and tells me the moon is out, in the middle of the day. we climb up the sides of the valley, me almost falling to certain death (or massive injury) a few times as we bolt up more than 40 meters in some areas. a small waterfall, fallen coconut trunks as bridges, and we are on top of the valley. now my vision turns green, the coconut trees in full proliferation and in command of everything. a man tends to his field and we ask a girl by a stand to bring us some coconuts to drink.
we walk along fields barefoot and i lose myself in the coconut trees, long slender trunks curving up into the sky, ending in bursts of threadlike leaves. it grows dark and we walk back, finding ourselves back on the sandy middle ground with water flowing about our ankles. some of my uncles walk ahead and all i can see are their silhouettes, rolled up pant legs and steady gait pushing through the sand. more coconut trees loom above, cutting their black outlines against the dark blue sky. sounds of insects and a low howl of some animal release themselves into the night air and i suddenly realize that there isn’t a single sound of civilization here. no revving of motorbike engines, no drizzling murmur of television sets, no ringing of cell phones. the moon is our only light. my throat emits a small cry, a broken shout of resignation, a final acceptance of something i can never understand. i murmer to myself, over and over, god this is so beautiful. my uncle looks at me from the side and i can imagine him smirking.
“you don’t have this in America do you?”
i can see stars.
later i am on the back of my uncle’s motorbike, pulling out of a parking space, when a small dirty girl with a handful of tickets walks by. she raises her hands in a halfhearted attempt to make a sale. i pull out all the money in my shirt pocket, totalling no more than two or three dollars, and hold it out. without thinking her tiny hands grab the money, kung-fu grip making sure i have no chance to take back what she perceives as a mistake. i hold it for a second and then let it go, smiling. she turns back to the side and resumes her selling. not a word passes between the two of us. like all things good, my smile soon quickly fades and my thoughts disappear into the road running below us.
the dark brown sights around me, of old shuffling women, of small young children, of lottery tickets held tightly in hand, all grab at me and pull in all directions, silent stares stretching me from the inside out. i can’t do anything but let it happen, my soul falling into some deep sleep that holds no dreams.