Looking at a map and trying figure out the right route through Saigon streets. Foreign maps are hard enough to figure out. A local denizen takes pity on my plight. He tries in broken English to explain how to navigate District 1 and find the brewpub. He doesn’t lose his cool at my opaque facial expressions. He grabs a brown paper bag and begins drawing a map. He has streets and rudimentary drawings of significant landmarks. He uses arrows to show the proper path. He also highlights a few worthwhile sites. The map proved to be a heaven send. Everything was right where it was supposed to be. And through Siracha fingerprints and fish oil stains; it guided me through District 1 for several days.
Ho Chi Minh aside
the Siracha fingerprints
served as a beacon