I'm still not sure what happened at four PM Vietnam time this afternoon. We were on a walk in the French Quarter when all of the sudden everyone was eating ice-cream. They were all pouring out of a warehouse.. So naturally we walked in to get the scoop. Police were everywhere. Some men had microphones and were screaming into them. What appeared to be a biker gang was lounging in a dark basement and it felt electric..like there was about to be a knife fight or something equally dangerous. But everyone was eating ice cream cones. We couldn't see the source of these afternoon treats..but they flooded out of the shadows in the hands of tattooed tough guys and giggling girls alike. Our best guess is that there is a mandatory city wide ice cream social enforced by cops at four every afternoon.
We walked away in total confusion, without ice cream cones. I really wish we spoke just a few words of Vietnamese. I'm trying to fit in by adopting the dress code of locals. I have black tights to wear under all of my skirts and shorts, and recently purchased a cotton face mask (that matches my jacket)..to protect my lungs from pollution. Sometimes I worry that Nathan will lose me in the crowd..I'm practically indistinguishable from the locals.
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