A short story Khanh got there early, as per his usual habit. Tien, the girl who made the banh mi, wasn’t awake yet, and he knew he’d have to wake her up. Saigon was in a rare silent moment of repose, the dimmest hour before dawn, too late for the night owls coming home from bars […]
The Viet Kieu and the Banh Mi Driver Read More »
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure dome decree Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. Upon awakening from an unrestful sleep, perturbed by his ever roaming mind and a good hit of opium, Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote these lines in a burst of creative
Through Caverns Measureless to Man: Exploring Quang Binh Read More »
Part 1 of the trip is here: Through Caverns Measureless to Man …through the meadows homeward went, in grave And serious mood; but after I had seen That spectacle, for many days, my brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of unknown modes of being; o’er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it
No Colours of Green Fields: Inside the caves of Phong Nha Read More »
Here is a Mary Oliver story for you. One summer many years ago, when I was starting my first year in college and trying to figure out who I would become, my mom and I stayed in Cape Cod for cheap at the home of a friend of hers from medical school. Our first morning
A Mary Oliver Story Read More »
For my first few months back in this long term stay in Vietnam, I tried my hand at writing articles and short pieces for whatever places wanted them. Most English media sites about Vietnam were online zines, and the pieces that were in demand told of the country’s developing future. Editors wanted reviews of new
No City for Old Men Read More »
S o a year of writing ends and a new year of teaching (my lucky 13th year) begins, for I’ve taken a position at Saigon South International School teaching I.B. English and 10th grade English. I will be driving every morning for 15 – 20 minutes from district 4 down to Phu My Hung, south
Adrenaline rush in a left turn: the morning motorbike commute Read More »
It’s coming upon a full year since I took my sabbatical, and I suppose it’s pretty much over now. Aside from giving me time to write, this break also allowed me to do more reading than I normally could in the hurly burly of attending to a full time teaching load. Here are the books
Books I’ve read on my year off Read More »
I like to visit 3A Station in the late afternoons, when visitors come to browse its galleries and shops, or take photos next to its graffiti covered walls. The exteriors of old colonial warehouses that used to be here are kept intact, extending to form colourful alleyways. Small trees, industrial art, and painted walls refract the late afternoon
The Short Happy Lives of Saigon’s Creative Spaces Read More »
W hen he first visited Saigon in the late 1940s, the writer Norman Lewis made this observation of the sidewalk life he saw here, after a short amble through the city: “It was clear from the first moment of picking my way through these crowded, torrid streets that the lives of the people of the
The changing lives of Saigon’s sidewalks Read More »
T hirty years ago, the United States, then under the leadership of president Ronald Reagan, gave my family refuge. We settled in Toledo, Ohio, with help from the UNHCR and through a policy decision to shelter refugees of special humanitarian concern, the refugee act of 1980. Years later, my parents relearned their craft of medicine. I grew up to
Refugees in America, then and now Read More »