I recognize Ho Chi Minh, the old Saigon from the massacred American war, at the first light of daybreak. I am in line at the airport barely gathered from the much anticipated journey, behind an undetermined number of American veterans that have returned for the first time, or periodically return to the sites where many of their combat companions have lost their own live. But, I undeniably want to enter the psychiatric hospital of Nha Trang, where men and women are living like wild animals, to define it in the realest term. I have been told chains are tied to the necks and feet of patients suffering from schizophrenic syndromes, but I cannot imagine in the new world this cruelty really existing in a mental hospital. I was also told men and women sleep lying on their own excrement and urine, but it is hard to conceive when I think of the constant presence of McDonalds, beaches for Russian tourists hunting for Europeans on holiday, but above all, I think of what I had and have read for years before reaching Saigon in the last few hours: the radical change in a country waving a red flag and yellow star opens to foreign corporations........................CONTINUES...........................

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