This is a picture of bad pho. I don’t know what I did wrong. I bought marrow bones and boiled them for between 4 and 6 hours. I probably shouldn’t have put in that oxtail, which was fatty. But there are other problems, too numerous to mention. The truth is that none of the food back here really tastes like anything. Even mangoes taste like paper. Joe and I went and had our long-wished-for pizza at Little Star and I’m sorry to say, it might have been great pizza, but it wasn’t great food.
On the other hand, this was lunch last Friday, on Hang Ga street.
We have been back 3 days now and are beginning to align sleep and clock. We have started to re-connect with friends and family, trying to re-enter their lives. I realize that I haven’t really spoken English with anyone but Joe for 6 months. My vocabulary has atrophied.
When we’ve unpacked, paid bills, and cleaned up, we’ll get to work on the various writing assignments generated by this experience, especially the handbook.