You guys! Seriously! Last semester was awesome. I had such a great time studying abroad in Vietnam. What a sweet country. It totally changed my perspective and outlook on life. When I left I was but a boy, but now I am a man. I know it’s cool to be back and all, but I’m really going to miss some of the places I traveled to over there, all the cool local customs and food I got used to and all the friends I made.
I mean, one of the awesome things about Vietnam is how cheap everything is. I could give you the name of a young woman who, for US $2, puts on quite a show with a just three-pack of ping-pong balls, but I won’t go into detail. Well, OK, she can juggle all three with one hand! Isn’t that sweet?
But you know what I’m really going to miss? I’m totally going to miss my warlord jungle fortress. We found this totally cool stronghold that belonged to a former drug czar for, like, a thousand bucks. It was so cheap, we had to have it. So, we pooled our money together and bought it. Then we used some of our spare beer money to arm a small force of indigent mercenaries to act as our enforcers. Try establishing a network of heavily armed thugs throughout the upper Mekong River Delta region while keeping up with your language and culture classes at your host university. Luckily, once we had our paramilitary organization in place and didn’t have to terrorize the countryside ourselves, we had more time for fun. Soon we controlled the agricultural production, distribution and retail outlets of a number of bordering regions. One thing led to another and, before we knew it, we were warlords!
It’s not as bad as it sounds. It mostly entailed managing the estate, doing the budget and payroll for the paramilitary group and collecting protection money from the surrounding farmers and so on. With all the leadership and business management skills it required, it’s almost certainlysomething I could list on my resume! Well, except for my brutal and iron-fisted methods of suppressing peasant dissent and ruthlessly crushing other warlords, that is.
But I mean, dude, just ‘cuz I was a warlord doesn’t mean I didn’t do all the normal study abroad things. My dictator buddies and I found plenty of time to hang out and drink and whatnot. I remember this one time that me and my friend Mikey were so drunk that we started a small-scale ethnic war between neighboring villages. Oh man, we were so hung over the next morning, and kind of embarrassed that we had gotten so out of control. Boy were our faces red! With blood! Of a hundred slaughtered villagers! Good times!
There were also lots of beautiful, elaborately decorated shrines painted in bright colors that we got to visit. Sure is a shame we had to destroy so many of them. We only did it because the monks were organizing localized, peasant resistance groups to counter our heavily militarized regime of oppression and brutality. Not to mention the chicks! I mean, I’d heard about the kinky prostitutes, but when I came here I had no idea that so many of them would end up working for me!
Everyone talks about the sense of short-term alienation and displacement that comes from immersion in another culture, and let me tell you, we felt the same way sometimes. Although in our case we didn’t just have to overcome the traditional ‘language barrier’ that everyone talks about. No, our ‘barriers’ weren’t metaphorical linguistic awkwardness, but 20 foot tall, serrated metal pikes with the severed heads of our enemies that we had to maneuver around every time we wanted to go to class or do some shopping.
But yo, I didn’t forget about you guys! I brought back some sweet souvenirs to share with everyone. Lindsey, here’s a pair of local hand-carved earrings. Oh wait, they’re still attached to your present, Steve, an authentic ear necklace! There’s your gift Sandra, I brought you a cereal bowl. It belonged to a friend of ours over there named Kurt who … well, yeah it was his skull. Let me explain-Kurt kind of went crazy on us and tried to break away from our junta to start a rival movement, so we had to “kill” him … with extreme prejudice, if you know what I mean!
I’d show you some of the killer pictures I took, but they were impounded as evidence by the international court that’s presiding over my upcoming trial for ‘crimes against humanity,’ whatever that means. Dude, it was the best semester ever!
