Time and Place

Today, just by chance, I had some flashback about that period of time in my life when I was living in Sai Gon. Until this day, I still feel ambivalent about that city. In a way, it was all so familiar to me. I've traveled there so many times I couldn't keep track of. I've been on most of its tree-covered street. I still can hear the cacophony of noises in my ears from obnoxious motorcycles' horns, earsplitting screech of slammed brakes, and of course, the never-ending humming of engines. The smell of traffic dirt lingers in the air, almost suffocates the new and unsuspected travelers.

Sai Gon is all but a beautiful chaos in my eyes. And I love the city for the very same reason. In the other hand, I don't know a lot about the city. When I'm there, I always feel like I'm missing on something, maybe a secret coffee shop that is hidden in a corner somewhere, or maybe memory that should have been made but never was.

Back then, I liked to stroll aimlessly along its pretty streets, drifting from one place to the next. I had no clear purpose in mind. I found happiness in wandering in strange places, among strange people. I guess I've learned the art of being alone well then. Very well.

Nowadays, sometimes I have the urge to live alone somewhere again. Well, not necessarily alone, but just somewhere new so that I can freely go on with my mini-adventures, like I did in Sai Gon that year. The time is maybe right. But the place is all but an uncertainty...