It's been three months since I left little Bien Hoa, Vietnam, and I still haven't written about it like I have wanted to. So I'm going to begin posting pictures and stories from my summer, just small, enjoyable stories that I have been thinking about lately.
Story number one: Laundry.
I wish i had taken a picture of our sad washing machine; it fought hard for us. After washing our clothes, we hung them on long metal poles that crossed above the courtyard.
And while they dried, our landlady cooked . . . directly beneath our laundry. Our clothes always dried with the scent of Vietnamese dinner. Sometimes i miss laundry days at the hotel, even if my clothes dried crunchy and smelled like food.