Longing for Hanoi.

Hanoi in spring.Reading Greene as a means to get over my longing for Vietnam. He wrote The Quiet American  in the Metropole in Hanoi. I wonder, did the scenery affect him at all?

Pico Iyer, whom I’m still reading, slowly and purposefully, mentions that Vietnam is perhaps one of the loneliest places on earth. At times I agree but for the most part, I don’t. Ever since I can remember, I knew my soul was older than most. Often I catch myself feeling as if I’ve seen the places I’m only seeing for the first time. Hanoi was among them. This place was beguiling. It had an air of nostalgia which gifted me, suddenly, with an accordion of images from a distant past that recalled a number of lives I’m not sure I had lived.

I feel, as most lovers do, that I inadvertently left my heart in this place.

Hanoi, 2012


Here, the love of my life whispers forever in my ear. Someone else is taking a photograph and just as the shutter closes and traps in the light, I feel the faint touch of my darling’s lashes against my cheek. It’s November 1972 and the bombs have not fallen yet.

Hanoi, 1972




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s