Sweat Swiper

It is summer in Vietnam and it is hot. Nevermind what you think of as hot; this is hotter .. and more humid. They don’t even dicker around with “real feel” temperatures because it would probably indicate that we are boiling. Given these circumstances, I don’t think it is shocking to admit that I sweat. Especially when I am in the jungle. Vietnamese (at least those from the northern mountains) don’t sweat. They get warm, but they don’t melt. So there I was, melting, when a young Vietnamese woman came up to me and swiped my sweat! She didn’t jar it or do anything really strange, but she came up, looked at my glistening (or is it glowing) arms, and ran her own palm along mine to draw off the sweat. She stood there looking at my body juice on her hand and I stood there thinking “she must actually think this is my body juice!” There weren’t throngs of screaming fans, or people fainting at my feet, but I kind of know how Elvis must have felt.