Facing the Dragon - Chapter 7

Today, I endure another long and interesting drive as we move closer to the central part of Vietnam. There is not better way to appreciate the beauty of a country then to drive through the heart of it.

Along the way, we stop in Phan Rang and visit the Pol Klong Garai Cham Towers. These towers are as ancient as they are beautiful. Dating back to the turn of the 14th century and the rule of King Jaya Simharvarman III, they are part of the remaining legacy of the Kingdom of Champa, an Indianized empire that ruled parts of central and southern Vietnam for over 14 centuries. Walking around this area, I feel like I am an archaeologist doing research for a paper. The puppet-like statue of the Cham King Po Klong Garai reminds me of something from a film like Raiders of the Lost Ark.

We move on to a quaint area and enjoy a peaceful, enjoyable and satisfying lunch. With scrumptious French rolls, vegetables and fruit to choose from, there isn’t anything else I need. I grab a roll and stuff it full of ripe avocado, onion, tomato and cucumber and sprinkle salt and pepper over the top. I also have a piece of dragon fruit and 2 small bananas. I am content in every sense of the word as I peer at a patch of palm trees while walking back onto the bus.

We are now in route to Nha Trang but the clouds look threatening and it seems that a storm is imminent. Given the roughshod state of the roads, I am interested to see how our driver will handle the terrain during a storm. The storm passes though and the rains never come. I am a bit disappointed as I would like to see Qui, our driver, try and navigate us through a heavy tropical storm.

It is a couple hours later now and we have finally arrived in Nha Trang. It feels great to be off of the bus and at our next destination. I am excited so I quickly check into the hotel, toss my bags into the corner of the room and make my way out to Nha Trang’s Municipal Beach for a stroll. The mountain backdrop and distant islands in the background offer a beautiful setting for a walk down the beach. There are packs of Vietnamese children, many of which are probably on vacation with their families, playing in the sand and in the sea. The children seem to find me and my pale, white skin particularly interesting as they stare, smile and wave at me. I take a brief swim in the South China Sea’s warm water near a father and his young daughter that are playing in the water near me. The friendliness of the Vietnamese people continues to amaze me. I have conversations with 4 different people who approach me, wanting to know where I come from and what I think of their country. One man from Saigon who I converse with for nearly 15 minutes on the beach tells me that he could introduce me to a beautiful woman in Saigon who would like me very much. I laugh and tell him that I wish I would have met him while I was in Saigon, as the thought of meeting a beautiful Vietnamese woman is becoming more enticing to me as each day passes.

As I float and relax in the sea, I begin a discussion with a Vietnamese man named Henry. We speak for quite a while about Vietnam and reveal a bit about our lives to each other. As we speak, two things stand out to me about Henry. First, he is fluent in English with a very faint accent. The second thing that stands out to me is his name. I think to myself, “Henry is not a Vietnamese name.” I probe a bit more and he confesses that Henry is the English name that he adopted when he moved to Cicero, Illinois. Cicero! This town is less that 10 miles from the last apartment I rented in Chicago a couple years back. I am shocked to have such a random meeting on a beach in Nha Trang with a man who lives in such close proximity to my hometown in Chicago. Henry explains that he is in Vietnam to visit extended family in Saigon and his wife’s immediate family, who still live in Nha Trang. His son is with him and he is enjoying scooping sand with a small shovel. Henry is 38 and he spent the first 21 years of his life in Saigon. He has some good stories for me, with one of them being his profession. He is a magician.

On this evening, I am lucky enough to see a real storm while sitting seaside. The monsoon comes and goes quickly but it is a storm of immense power. Even though we eat dinner under a covered terrace, we still get a bit wet due to the powerful, blowing rain. Seeing a storm from this vantage point gives me a unique opportunity to see real, natural beauty. It is a different kind of beauty than a sunset or a green pasture, but it is one that is just as impressive in its own right. The sound of thunder and the sight of lightning over the South China Sea in the distance keep me fixated on all that is going on around me as I finish one final 333 beer before I am called to bed by my exhausted body.