with heat. Though the rainy season was supposed
to be coming, you wouldn’t know it from the heat. One-hundred to
110. You walked down a Saigon block to get lunch and were soaked in
sweat by the time you got back to your hotel room. The walls
of our hotel rooms were painted as pale as the sun.
were together, posted up in two hotels across the street from
each other. It was month ten and we were tired, tired of travel, of
missionary discipline, of the heat, of new things, tired of Africans,
Asians and whites in our faces selling us things we didn’t need. We
were set up in these two hotels with AC all month, waiting for the
next 45 days to be over so we could go home.
One day, we were in a hotel roomhaving a meeting. Tim and I brought our lunches, containers of Pho,
noodle soup with thin slices of beef. Tim had red hair. He was from
Austin and had memorized more movie lines than anyone I’d ever met.
We sat on the floor and mixed bean sprouts and mint into our noodles.
“Can you not eat that here,” one
of the girls said as I took my first bite. “It smells.”
smells.
said in my mind.
set it in the plastic bag, and shared a long look with Tim.
playing with AIDS orphans and doing crafts at an elderly home. I
tried to choose as few as I could.
myself. I felt I didn’t have enough time to level up my character in
MMA Pro Fighter on facebook.
intense: an all day seminar for new Christians. I’m not sure why I
volunteered. Maybe I was feeling guilty or maybe I did it for Tres,
the guy who was organizing it. Anyway, I chose to do it. It was two
weeks away. Two weeks in a Vietnam is a
long time.
