You Needn't See
The Vietnamese woman who comforted me in my dreams and meditations during the Viet Nam war stood on the cruise ship’s veranda deck with her hands across her chest. The green ocean lifted us up and down with its 12 foot swells as the ship sailed northward along the Viet Nam coast. The salty ocean breeze fluttered the bottom of her green ao dai. She closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly. Her conical straw hat glimmered even though the clouds hid the sun.
The Vietnamese woman who comforted me in my dreams and meditations during the Viet Nam war stood on the cruise ship’s veranda deck with her hands across her chest. The green ocean lifted us up and down with its 12 foot swells as the ship sailed northward along the Viet Nam coast. The salty ocean breeze fluttered the bottom of her green ao dai. She closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly. Her conical straw hat glimmered even though the clouds hid the sun.
"I want to see the coastline," I said. “The clouds and mist are hiding it.”
"The coastline will not serve you," she said. "You came back to heal your war wounds. The coastline was beautiful then as it is now. Looking for old wounds won't serve you. You needn't see."
The green ocean swells waved with their white gloved hands, "Welcome back," they said.
I still wished I could see the coastline mountains and beaches. A light breeze continued to play with the Vietnamese woman’s ao dai as she walked over to me. She stood next to me and laid her head on my shoulder.
"I wish I could see it too,” she said, “but I know the jungle, the beaches, and the mountains are still there. They are still beautiful. Trust me," she said. "You have your memories. They will sooth you."
***
The city of Hoi An bubbled with bustling buskers, vendors and tourists. Motorcycles zoomed to and fro around pedestrians, cars, buses and bikes. The aromas of cooked fish, curry, cigarette smoke and motorcycle exhaust swirled around me. Tourists clicked away with their cameras and cell phones. Vendors hawked their wares, inviting me to come and take a closer look. Hoi An's yellow buildings buzzed vibrantly with activity. Dogs played with each other on the sidewalk. Two dogs wore shirts that my camera captured. Happiness placed her head on my chest as I stood on the sidewalk taking it all in.
The Vietnamese lady, dressed in her green ao dai and conical straw hat, stood behind Denise in the coffee shop, smiling, her eyes closed. She sipped her own cup of iced Vietnamese coffee. She opened her eyes and winked at me. She tilted her head toward the coffee shop staff who were wearing their jazzy straw hats. "Aren't they beautiful," she said.
"Yes, they are,” I replied, “and that makes me happy."
