Twenty something year old doing twenty something year old things

 "Somewhat hungover and somewhat sentimental, this month being the first anniversary Saigon's fall, or liberation or both, I wrote my aunt a letter to commemorate a year's worth of tribulation. " Once again I have returned to my hobby of picking a sentence I could never write and musing on it. The above is taken from The Sympathizer , written by Viet Thanh Nguyen. It is a book written by a Vietnamese author set just after the Vietnam/ American war--it flits between these two nations, and 'the fall' it documents is Saigon's takeover by the northern Viet Cong. I love this book like I love Vietnam and, particularly *sigh gon. Perhaps I chose this sentence as I am feeling particularly nostalgic from last night's late night/early morning phone call from a friend still living in the bustling heat of the city. He called me from a café which had the familiar blaring-music-played-too-loudly and the sounds of motorbikes' honking horns punctuating every pause...

 And on the third day she wrote again... Once again I have food and coffee to report of. A date was arranged and we met outside Jolin's Vietnamese coffee house on Clanbrassil street near Portobello. How is it that I have been separated from my dearest Vietnam, *sigh-gon,  for a year and a half yet have only just visited this glory, complete with a bona fide Vietnamese owner, originally from Saigon? I guess, as they say, it takes a lockdown to 'get in touch' with your locality. I ordered the 'classic' Vietnamese coffee. It was not the classic however as I decided that I could not brave the iced version-- my fingers would probably provide that touch anyway. Cycling over to this joint (definite 'food blogger' credentials for using that word) I had been rehearsing how to order it in Vietnamese..."Cho em mot chai bia?" No, not beer--coffee.."cho em mot  cà phê  " brilliant. I'm a local.  In the end, seeing the menu entirely in English and ...