Let's Go Mad by Rob Binkley

Let's Go Mad by Rob Binkley

Author:Rob Binkley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2016-09-06T04:00:00+00:00


6

Cambodian Zen

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TWO BURNT-OUT backpackers barely on speaking terms parachute into so-called enemy territory with no clue of what’s awaiting them below? What happens when we willingly remove our safety net of wine and women that we clung to for the past five months? Would we burn up during reentry into the straight world? Brian and I were about to find out.

We were rolling the dice and dropping anchor in a former enemy state where we couldn’t commit felonies or screw around, a place where the government could send us straight to hell in a bamboo handbasket for anything resembling our past behavior. Why gamble with our lives? We were young and naive and wanted to test the boundaries. We wanted to be challenged; we wanted to be uncomfortable. Island-hopping had nearly killed us, so how bad could Vietnam really be?

Vietnam was a scary place to us growing up. We were born in the Watergate era, so we’d heard all the horror stories about the war from relatives, from teachers, and from movies and television. Now that we were grown, we wanted to see what the country was really like. I had a feeling it would be nothing like I imagined, and I was right.

When we landed in the former communist nation of Vietnam, the borders had just opened to American citizens. Brian admitted he was a tad apprehensive of the lingering effects of the war. “I’m not saying it’s going to happen, but we may want to prepare for a hostage crisis,” he said as we de-boarded the plane at the Hanoi airport.

“What, why? They kicked our ass. What beef could they possibly have with us?”

“I dunno … maybe because we killed a shitload of their people.”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

Brian looked at my shaved head. “You look like you did.”

“Relax, man. I’m sure it’s water under the bridge.”

“But dude, what happens to bridges in war movies?”

“What?”

“They blow up! All I’m saying is, if we get up to any monkey business like stealing statues or starting any barroom brawls with gay strippers, we may find ourselves hanging from our toenails in a bamboo pen.”

“How many times do I have to apologize? That was the old me—I’m maturing.”

“Your body may be a man, but your soul is still a boy.” Brian was starting to sound like some of the Zen philosophers he was reading.

“Can’t believe you’re lecturing me on decorum,” I said.

“Believe it.”

“Just calm down,” I said. “You’ve seen Platoon way too many times.”

I promised Brian I would not go crazy in Vietnam. We’d done enough partying in the preceding countries to last a few lifetimes, and I was serious about growing up. I wanted to continue the personal renaissance I’d been talking so much about. Hell, I wanted to start it for real this time, before it was too late.

But could I change—can anyone? Did I even want to anymore? I knew I wasn’t the person I left behind in America, but that DNA was still stuck to me.



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