I had been loitering around some dreadlocked types, working up the courage to join the conversation, when the people smuggler sat down next to me. Actually, that might not be an entirely fair description: Lanh, which is not his real name, left Vietnam as a refugee in 1980 and managed to help more than thirty others escape with him. He could have charged them for the privilege, he said, and exorbitantly, too. But they were leaving for the same political reasons as he was and he thought better of it.
For two days, Lanh and his charges navigated a small boat to Thailand, where they were, remarkably, processed at a rate of knots. Almost before he had time to think, he found himself on his way to Canada, where he still lives. This was only his third visit to Vietnam since the early 2000s, when he began returning to see family.
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It was my first night in Ho Chi Minh City, about a week before Tet, or Vietnamese New Year, and Lanh and I were surrounded by self-consciously alternative tourists in low-crotched harem pants on the cheap plastic school chairs of District 1’s Bùi Vien backpacker strip. As they drank fifty-cent Saigon Green beer and compared war stories about their time in South-East Asia, Lanh and I discussed post-war Vietnam.
Matthew Clayfield
Matthew Clayfield is a journalist, critic and screenwriter.
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