I again met Diem on the rooftop for breakfast. No soup this morning. All cold offerings. This was fine with me as it was all delicious. A cold noodle “salad”, apples, bananas, more dragon fruit, some cold bacon, cucumbers, chilled blanched carrots, and assorted delicate French-style pastries. All very good, except the coffee was still overly bitter, though I must say it was beginning to grow on me.
We sat down next to an older retired couple on vacation from Bonn, France. I struck up a conversation and was happy to have someone I could at least briefly talk with. My brain struggled to refire the synapsis, leading to the part of my brain where 5 years of French were being stored. Akin to a dusty old library that its neighboring cousin, Spanish, had mostly remodeled. We had some laughs, and I think they were tickled at how much I struggled with the language that I once knew so well. I asked them if I could go to the bathroom, conjugated a few verbs, and felt like I was dancing around like a circus monkey. Adieu ma chère, car je vous connaissais bien.
The couple retreated down the stairs, and Diem and I finished our breakfast in a tranquil silence. As we drew breakfast to a close, she informed me that today was an important day. Since she was in the capital, she asked if I would escort her to pay respect to their former president and national hero, Ho Chị Mình. Today was a special day of mourning for their beloved leader. It was her duty to pay her respects, and I was both honored by the gesture and excited to witness such an important event for the Vietnamese people. As I worked my way back to my room, I stepped out onto the opposite terrace again to capture some images of the cloud-filled smog-ridden morning.
