Mai, you don’t have a life in Saigon – Thao told me this 3 days ago. She was genuinely worried about me.
“All I saw is you go to work then go home at 9 PM make a trail from the entrance to your bedroom. Then in the morning, you woke up at 4:00 AM to do Yoga, go back to bed at 6:00 AM. At 9:00 AM, you are up and ready to go to work. In your house, there’s not even water, Mai. You barely have anything in the house, though you moved in about 5 weeks already. You are living as if you are still in Bangkok, chatting with friends from abroad. Making phone calls with others from afar. Your social life just doesn’t exist in here, you don’t have anyone here.”
I have been pondering on this idea for couple days now and couldn’t find a good explanation to why I’m doing what I’m doing. I used to take very good care of my little apartment in Bangkok. I bought things to make the place mine, somewhere I belong to. I’m not so sure why I didn’t do anything for this place.
In the past 2 years, I’ve lived in Hoi An, Bangkok, Phuket and Chiang Mai. I practically didn’t really live in Saigon. The only reason that brought me back to the city is to visit Camel. Basically I have been rejecting this city for a long time.
But still, why? Why did I purposely didn’t really create anything that makes me feel belong to the place. I could have adopt a dog, have some fish, buy some water in the house. I could spend 1 hour a day just to stay in the house, but why? I think this question needs couple more day to find the answer. For now, I still couldn’t figure out why.
This Saturday marks my father’s 4th death anniversary. 4 year but seems like 4 millenium has passed. About this time, 4 years ago while Dad is in the ICU, it was the one day he can breath without support. He was so tired, just want to rest. I remembered telling him, Dad you know what Donald Trump has won the presidency. I remembered his face vividly, he was as shocked as I was. He raised his eyebrows as much as he could, because he cannot speak, he was so tired the only thing he can focus on is his breathing. He was in so much pain. At that time, I was wishing for the world if I could just please switch place with him. I would imagine we would trade place: He was standing talking to me, and I was in the hospital bed. I wanted to be the one who’s in pain. I wanted to take this disease onto me. I wanted my Dad to live healthy and happy. I still wish for it now.
I miss my Dad dearly, he’s the friend who I can discuss about politics, about Buddhism, about psychology. I would give him jars and jars of ice cream because he will love it soooo much. We would spend hours sitting talking until both of us cannot open our eyes anymore.
Life in Saigon is not livable without him here. I guess that’s the reason why I didn’t want to create a home in here.
