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Saigon – nameless nostalgia

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From time to time, I come across a strange feeling about Saigon, which is only possible when we are lost in a foreign land. This time when I went to a friend’s newly bought cafe in Gia Dinh park. This is the place where I used to be in the 90s, but now there is almost no familiarity. It was completely strange, so strange that it took me by surprise and immediately reminded me of the feeling I had twenty years ago…

This is the emotion that was engraved in my memory the first time I set foot at Mien Dong bus station. Lost and insecure, precarious as if walking on a bumpy slope. But the emotion in the early 90s of the last century was something full and hot, and this time it was a bit more profound. The only thing that has not changed and has become familiar is the coffee atmosphere that we can easily feel in any coffee shop in Saigon. Although I have settled in Saigon for more than twenty years, half the time in my homeland, there is no Landmark in Saigon that makes me remember much. The things imprinted in my brain are just nameless little things. For example, the General’s shrine is in a certain alley near Saigon station that I can no longer locate. The temple is just an altar in the style of Mr. Dia, located in the most spacious part of the alley. The shrine is modest, but the smoke of incense sticks out all day. Nearby is a toad cafe owned by an alley gang boss. Somehow, I got used to this “brutal” guy. Perhaps the naivety of a teenager from distant Quang Nam touched his heart? No, the reason is from the shrine. He told me that the General was “outside” everywhere. A few years ago, his junior brought back an old bag. It claimed “stealing” from an old man outside the station. Inside were only a few old clothes, a tin box containing a strange black powder. When he was depressed, another kid running from the station said that the old man was rolling around crying near death on the platform, his head was covered with blood. In the end, the senior had to go to the place to witness the incident and understand everything. That tin box contained something very sacred: remains. That old man was a son from Quang Nam who went to collect his father’s bones to bring back to his hometown and then it happened as we know it. The brothers and sisters forced the junior to return the bag and especially the tin box to the old man, but he claimed that it had already been spilled. The little black powder in the tin box was thrown down the alley, right where the General’s shrine is now. The junior thought for a while and then jumped out near the canal. After a while it brought back a pile of black soil… When the old man received his bag back, and especially when he saw that the tin box was still intact, he was as happy as if he had caught gold. As for the brothers and sisters, they found the altar and placed it right where the junior had dropped the bones. Since then, the temple has been taken care of by the whole gang, and smoked fruit incense all day. The General was also tolerant when he didn’t blame the people who pulled vertically, but also occasionally hit a few numbers. And he became famous from there. I once dared to ask “your hand” why did you call the General? “Hands and sisters” explained that to win such a lottery, it must be done by the General. The General’s Shrine and your coffee shop toads are what make me picture Saigon most vividly, in a way that nothing in this land can replace. Then there are so many places I have been, the roads I have walked, until now, I can no longer imagine. But the feeling they give me is still intact. A coffee shop toad disappeared somewhere under the floor of a building. An attractive road leading to Long An in the past, has now been replaced by a luxurious and busy urban area. Then Binh Dong wharf, which contains the development history of this land, now who has the strength to recall? But one thing that never dies is the emotion they sow in our brains. Saigon will forever be there no matter how many conspiracies across this land. For one thing, those who come first or come late, come in a friendly attitude or steal, will sooner or later be tamed by this land. As well as the very familiar coffee atmosphere that I encountered even in a strange place. We will remember the roads we have walked, and we will also remember the roads we have never walked. The emotion that Saigon sows in the souls of predestined people is immortal.

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