Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Security

One of the ubiquitous sights in Vietnam, as with Lao and Thailand, is the presence of security guards. They are everywhere and they guard everything, from hotels to vacant lots. There are little huts or umbrellas at the entrances to the strangest places, each with one or two guys sweating away in their pseudo uniforms.

Parking lots are guarded. Hotels are guarded. Larger cafes are guarded. Vacant lots (I swear) are guarded. Most fancy stores, like scooter shops, etc, are guarded. These folks sit around, the live long day, and watch things. That is what they do. In the heat. Sitting.  All day.

Outside of my hotel there is a security booth. Yesterday I met the young man who works there, my new friend Tung. Tung was playing his guitar, noticed me watching, and asked if I would like to have a go. Of course, those were not his words, but you get the idea. I was soon cradling the cheapest of classical guitars, replete with the most tarnished upper three stings that I have ever seen.  I suppose that here in the Delta, strings would probably tarnish in minutes. Hell, mold grows on moving beings in this region.

Tung and his security partner plopped down on the bench and looked at me expectantly. I launched into a plaintive version of "Honky Tonk Woman" that I have been working on, courtesy of the urging of Mr. Bob "The Claw" Riley. Hey, what can I say Bob, the song was a hit. Tung is now my buddy and I am something of a guest crooner here at the hotel.

2 comments:

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  2. I won't say much about those 'Security', only because of how and where I was when I was young-er. It becomes a custom not to say anything in public.
    Glad you are making new friends and having fun!

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