from saigon with angst

i blame myself for daydreaming during my world history classes in high school. it was definitely not one of my favorite subjects. shame on me, i barely remember anything, just bits and pieces of several wars here and there, lost in a blur of time.

my trip to saigon was certainly an eye-opener. glimpses of a war-torn city preserved in their museum evoked a mix of feelings in me... from shock, anger, hatred... to pity, helplessness, sadness. i left the museum with a heavy heart, half-understanding but not accepting why the war had to happen. what right does another country have to rule over another? what right does it have to pit its conquered people against each other? nothing. can anyone ever justify the torture, the killing of men, women, elderly and children done in such reckless abandon? never. being super power is just having a false sense of superiority power. nothing else.

it is ironic that the war aimed to free the people, for it had destroyed their freedom to choose, freedom to live, freedom to be happy, freedom to have peace. i left the museum with a clear mind, fully-understanding why the war brought about a profound hatred against the super power. and why this feeling continues to run through the veins of people, of numerous different cultures, even those not directly affected by it. up till now, for years and years after the war.

for all people have the right to be free.