You Sing! You Sing! The karaoke microphone was thrust into Jim’s hand by the cheering crowd. Thick smoke circled the room, becoming increasingly worse as the passing tobacco bong was alternated by chain smoking cigarettes.. I sat silently, waiting to see what he would do. Singers we are not, but faced with such enthusiasm, it would be hard to resist.
Among the exotic and tasty food stalls of the markets of Saigon, one of my favorite sights was of these colorful tea cups and saucers.
I started to step into the street, my foot hovering in the air as my knees shook with fright. Heat, humidity, and exhaust fumes engulfed me as the air literally shook around me from what appeared to be thousands of vehicles swirling on all sides of the round-about.
It had been three days since we had arrived in Saigon, officially now Ho Chi Minh City, and we were trapped halfway across an eight lane street. Motor scooters, taxis, auto rickshaws, human powered rickshaws, all vying for first place in the ever crazed race around the streets of the city.