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The Loneliest Adventure
My rickshaw driver was unable to see clearly and was continually adjusting his ill-fitting glasses; and with dusty accidents on clogged traffic roundabouts, I suspected he was half blind. But every day, Duc was there to pull me through noisy back alleys to the market for a breakfast of sweet yellow mangoes, his familiar Hello Kitty doll dangling from the handlebars.
He was my go-to for all the sights around Saigon, and the mangoes were like huge pearl drop earrings, splayed apart and squeezed and devoured until the juice ran down my arms and formed puddles in the folds of The Saigon Times.
December 1993 - January 1994
สิบหก. A Blossom in the House 十八. Hong Kong Handover