I wake up at 9 a.m. Even though I slept a full seven hours, my throat hurts. I can feel a cold coming on. My neck and shoulders are heavy, and my body feels a little tired. In my dream I was left alone but on an adventure in the forest, shouting about something. A strange dream. Still, it left an impression.
I take a shower to clear my head. Today is the day I meet Cici after a long time. But I don't feel motivated. For now I order a chicken wrap for delivery, catch up on my overdue journal, and then have a meeting at 3 p.m.
By the time it ends, it's pouring outside. I put on a raincoat and start walking to the café. It's in a hard-to-find spot and I got lost, but I asked someone and found it. That exchange made me really happy. Relying on people, reaching out — now that I can do that naturally, I feel a little proud.
When I arrive at the café, for some reason my heart is pounding. I'm more nervous about seeing someone again than meeting them for the first time. Strange, but to be honest maybe I don't want to be disliked. I act as if it's okay if I'm not good at talking, using being ill as an excuse. Maybe that's running away. But it's also true that my cold is really bad. My throat hurts, I feel like I have a fever, and I take Eve Quick.
Yet maybe when you're feeling unwell is when people get closer to their true feelings. Like 'I don't care what people think anymore.' When I almost died from heatstroke, I was simply grateful for the presence of others. There are times when emotion transcends everything. I listened closely to the truth my amygdala was telling me.
In the middle of all that, Cici appeared. Her smile spread across her face. Reunion after a year really is special. Wearing KENZO's loud patterned top and black jeans, she was as fashionable as ever.
About 20 minutes after we start talking, my tension finally eases. Talks about Antarctica, about mental struggles. She told an episode about taking a gecko to the vet. The story of a gecko that overcame an infection was so Cici — interesting. I'm always surprised by the depth of her thinking and the uniqueness of her perspective.
I tell her why I'm traveling around the world. She says, "I can't settle permanently anywhere." Still, the days she lives in HCMC are unique, and I think that's because she's found them herself.
Apparently Cici is writing a science fiction novel. It's supposedly 600 pages, but I had no idea what it was about (lol). But when she asked whether I would go to space, my heart trembled. A person you can have such serious conversations with is truly precious.
After that, we walk through the city together. Events, sounds, the bustle. The same bridge and the same view as last year. But we're a little different now. Cici attached a lip balm to her camera and was taking pictures. Photos with a dreamlike, film-like quality. I felt moved — I got it.
On the bridge I give her Drops — the sweets I brought from Japan that she likes.
The moment I handed them to her she was surprised and then showed her emotion. The logical Cici I always know genuinely rejoicing stayed with me. Humans really are creatures of emotion.
Afterwards we ate at a vegan restaurant. We shared a Margherita pizza and apricot juice.
There were moments when I felt a little feverish and our conversation stopped, but that was fine too. Even in the silence there was trust.
I also learned that she still keeps my letters and photos in her wallet. That made me happy. We exchanged messages again this time. I wrote mine in Japanese, but embarrassed, I translated them as I handed them over.
On the way home I rode the newly opened metro. It uses Japanese trains and the ticket cost 35 yen. Little things like that strangely make me happy. When we parted at Ben Thanh Market station, she said, "Have fun on your world trip!" I smiled and waved, "See you!"
It's hard to put my time with Cici into words. She has depth within her quietness, and being with her makes me feel like I'm in dialogue with what's inside me. I don't think there are many people like her anywhere in the world.
