Misframing Reality

[Vung Tau, 6/5/25]

Leaving DC HomeStay at 3:30AM, I noticed a frog on the sidewalk. Knowing he had been detected, this dark fellow froze. He only leapt away when I squatted down, froglike, to say hello. This encounter of several seconds soothed my tattered spirit. It wasn’t just an unexpected brush with what’s left of the natural world, but naked, unembellished and unscripted life, of the type us humans have long been weaned from. This collision of the relative civilized and raw is even more striking at a go-go bar, except whatever cheerfulness oozes out there is more than snuffed and soured by frustration if not anger.

On the way to Seven Coffee, I passed the Museum of Worldwide Arms. Housed in two Colonial buildings, it’s an eccentric gem. This astounding collection of military uniforms, guns, swords and war posters was founded by a local Brit. He checks in on his baby daily. A twelve minute walk in the other direction is the city’s museum. In a modern building facing the ocean, it’s striking on the outside, but less so once you’ve entered. There just isn’t enough there.

After three plus years in Vung Tau, I finally bought a ticket two days ago. When I handed the young lady $1.60, she said, “Are you over 60, uncle?”

“I’m already 61.” I half expected her to ask for an ID, but she simply docked me half price without fuss. She had probably guessed I was 75. Why is this old fool lying? It’s probably his first museum. Only heard of the concept last week.

Twenty-five years ago, foreigners, including overseas Vietnamese, were charged double for even train fares. With locals so poor, it was deemed reasonable. That’s not unlike reduced tuitions for in-state students at American colleges.