The Big Field Trip

From The Big Field Trip – Vietnam, March 2010

The rain makes pddddd sound as it sploshes against the window of the taxi

Schhhhhhhhh goes a bike on the wet road

A white stone dragon creeps on the roof of a pagoda

Water drips from its beard

The Perfume River fills up with muddy water

That streams from the hillside

Looking through the foggy window

I see a lonely watermelon sitting on a board

Raindrops bead on its green veined surface

I wrap my jacket tightly around me

It’s a rainy day in Hue

From The Big Field Trip – Vietnam, March 2010

Chairs creak as the audience settles themselves in the chairs

The performance starts with plucking strings

Doing! Doin! Doi!

A ripple of water spreads as a puppet comes from behind a very thin piece of cloth

The hidden puppeteers move the puppets with rods that are under water

Four dragons swirl figure eights while spitting water out of their mouths

The water sloshes and jumps

The drum beats loudly

Grandpa slumps against my shoulder

He’s tired because he hasn’t slept for days

The dark theater surrounds us

We are at a water puppet show

From The Big Field Trip – Vietnam, March 2010

 

Up the stairs we go – into the moss-covered jungle

Don’t step off the path! There are land mines out there from the Vietnamese-American War

Grandpa spots a tiny white gecko on a big green leaf

I spot red-headed lizard on the slippery steps

We walk down the path to a river

Mom throws my ball into the waterfall

I jump off the slippery rocks into the crystal clear water 

The deep pool is 12 feet deep – Papa can’t even touch the bottom!

Little sucker fishes clean the pool

The air is sweltering as we trudge up the back up the stairs

Cruz spots a small grey and white moth blended into tree bark

An earthworm falls from the tree tops on to a bed of leaves, right in front of Grandpa

The earthworms in this jungle are supposed to cure malaria

Calling for mates, cicadas whine like fire trucks

I hear the honking of the car horn – our driver is telling us to hurry up

We are in Bach Ma National Park

From The Big Field Trip – Vietnam, March 2010

I am sea-sick, tottering on our floating junk

As the anchor lifts, the junk sways in the wind

We curve around the islands, and it reminds me of the floating mountains in Avatar

Rocks balance on the side of cliffs and they look like they’re going to fall off any second

The drizzling rain makes me shiver

Cy jumps off the junk into the icy-cold water

Fisherman bring up traps full of fish and crabs

A dried-out jellyfish lies on the sand like a plastic grocery bag

As we climb to the cave, I begin to count steps

The top of the cave looks like sand dunes in the Sahara Desert

The cave lights blink as I count 777 steps

Back in the light, we can see the islands sticking out of the green painted sea

We are in Ha Long Bay

Tags:   Poetry · Vietnam4 Comments