Moments

Moments

There are moments that stick with me.

The peace on the face of the soldier as children's hands touch his beard.

Ho Chi Minh - as a student in France, who believed in a united Vietnam during the separation between South and North Vietnam and sought advice from the United States. Asking for support in drafting a Vietnamese democratic constitution that should be modeled after the Constitution of the United States of America.

A monk who self-immolated on June 11, 1963, in Saigon to protest the oppression of the Buddhist majority in Vietnam.

The Reunification Palace, a popular photo subject for tourists who don't have time on their sightseeing tours and thus stand outside of the fence. I have time and enjoy photographing myself in the First Lady's cosmetic play.
Thomas has written a wonderful report with pictures about the Reunification Palace: vakantio.de/worldwrite

The constant vibrancy, the joy of creating, painting, beautifying, packing, decorating, and celebrating makes the city lively and energetic, it is astonishing what is possible. The little dog wanting to play, the street vendor delighted to have made a fair and friendly deal with Thomas. A moped being meticulously packaged. A moped that must fit in the luggage compartment for transport by bus. The girls practicing and excited that I notice them. The men playing kick without letting the ball touch the ground. A tourist becoming a photo motive for Vietnamese women – the other way around :-). Little shops where the ingredients for delicious food are made. The narrow alleys where you can look right and left into the private spaces of the residents. No view protection, no boundaries from prying eyes. A sign in a hotel toilet to point out proper behavior. And! There are changing facilities for children in the department stores in both women's and men's restrooms.
The irritation when I smile, smiling back. Sometimes it takes a while for a smile to be returned – if one is returned at all. The longer we are here, the more smiles and greetings there are, people start to recognize us. The new metro, the beginning of a meaningful transport network. It makes me so proud that people even take pictures in front of it.

Ho Chi Minh City: It is cleaner, more mature, more modern, seemingly wealthier than 2 years ago. But also more anonymous. A place of contrasts - a big city indeed. Impressive: Still, the history of Vietnam is depicted without resentment.

Some moments without photos are pictures in my mind. Moments.

I catch the emptiness in the eyes of a young woman chosen by a customer in a questionable massage parlor.

The complete detachments, the madness of laying on, the divine trust that nothing will happen. In the eyes of a boy sitting in the dark, right in the middle of a lively, busy street, holding an infant in his arms.

The vulnerability, being wounded, in the eyes of a lover boy – with his customer/friend/companion in the bar.

The despair, anger, and shame in the eyes of the customer/friend/companion. Not being allowed to be homosexual. He shows me pictures of his wife and two children. He talks about being sick. Isn’t he allowed to? Is that sick?

Big city indeed. Judging about right or wrong and also interfering with it – history shows this, hasn’t always done good. And it is no different for us in a big city.

Only the boy with the infant – he doesn't leave my mind….