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It feels like rain here but the sky is dry. I spent the day wandering around looking for a bank. There are banks everywhere, but I wanted a certain bank. In the end, I didn’t find it. Instead I found street food and a little second-story cafe.

I’ve accidentally started drinking coffee. Last week we were on a boat amongst the karsts of Ha Long Bay. The boatmen gave us coffee for breakfast and I felt like I should try it. Today in Hanoi I had two cups in the Vietnamese style, the second giving me the wild jitters.

I think the jitters got to me because this afternoon I had a conversation with an angel. We talked by tapping our fingers, and she said a number of things about my future. I wasn’t sure that I believed her at first, and I argued with her. Then she proved to me that she was an angel. Her grace humbled me. I didn’t have much to say after that.

Tomorrow I go back to Cat Ba Island. I intend to spend a good deal of time in Hanoi, though. Owen and I have agreed that we should visit on the weekends and for Tet. It’s a wonderful city, packed with color and life. Motorbikes weave between each other in a restless dance. People by the tens of thousands eat seated on the street curbs. A light mist lifts in the late morning, allowing the evening sun to gaze unfettered at the pastel buildings. In the sound of traffic, in the touching of chopsticks, in the tapping of her fingers the city whispers:




visual transitivity