In Goo We Trust

One revelation provided by our visit to the pagodas was the answer as to why Nolan keeps finding fake $100 bills on the ground all over the city.  People burn them as offerings to the gods.  So, when we stumbled upon piles of money at a local market, Nolan had to have a stack - two stacks, in fact, totaling well over a million dollars (and costing us about ten cents).

Nolan grinned from ear to ear as he relished his new-found riches and then bobbed and weaved his way through the market, avoiding cheek pinching, caressing, nose tweaking and the constant calls of "come here baby" from tiny, wrinkled, local women not really much taller than he is.  About halfway down one of the aisles he exclaimed, "Hey! This dollar says 'In Goo We Trust'," and he doubled over laughing.

I found it ironic that on our morning of Vietnamese religious enlightenment, we also discovered Goo. "Convenient," I thought.  "I'll just pray to Goo that I make it out of this market with 18 inch wide aisles without getting pancaked by one of these scooters hell bent on doing a little drive-through grocery shopping." However, I am not convinced that Goo loves me.  As I shuffled my way through the wet, fish slime slicked, super-skinny, umbrella-covered path, I glanced behind me to do a "scooter check" and nailed myself in the head with the spoke of a low hanging umbrella.  In an effort to continue with the spiritual theme (and not cry in front of the laughing local ladies remarking at the altitude of my head), I decided to chalk it up as free brain acupuncture for the ATPW.

I retrieved my sunglasses from the fish slime on the floor and decided maybe it was time to purchase a baby bird and fast-track some of my prayers to the powers above, because Goo just isn't cutting it.