Steaming Saigon

I STAND ALONE ON THE CORNER OF DONG HOI STREET AND LAM SON SQUARE. MY ARMS HANG HEAVY FROM MY SHOULDERS, MY SHIRT IS WET AND STICKING TO MY BACK, AND A MILLION MOTORBIKES AROUND ME ARE IN GRIDLOCK. I BREATHE IN HOT FUMES AND AM DEAF FROM THE CONTINUOUS BLARING OF HORNS.

I do know how to cross a road in Saigon but I’m just not ready. I need to grow accustomed to this chaotic, electric, magnetic and frustrating city. I remember Saigon ten years ago, when the streets moved gracefully with thousands of bicycles, there were kerbside cafés on every corner, and endless streetfood stalls lined the walls.