Mrs. Jiwaku went first, and the immigration officer had nothing much to say to her–he just looked at her for a moment, fiddled with her passport, and stamped it.
But then I stepped forward. I happened to be wearing my T-shirt with this image on the front:
… which is why the immigration guy didn’t just give me a look, fiddle with my passport, and stamp it. Instead, he struck up a conversation.
“You like zombie!”
I thought for a moment he meant I looked like a zombie, which would make sense: our flight had been delayed in the ridiculous Guangzhou airport–an unheated mess where a bottle of water costs the same as a cup of coffee (about $8 US)–and I was feeling a bit like a zombie.
But then I realized he was looking at my shirt. He followed up with, “The Walking Dead! You like it?”
“The TV show?” I asked him.
He nodded, the excitement clear on his face. This, the only immigration officer in the Ho Chi Minh City airport at 5:00 in the morning. “Season 3! You watch?”
Yes, he wanted to know what the last episode I’d seen was. He wanted to know whether I’d seen Seasons 1 and 2. He even alerted me to the fact that new episodes would be starting that Thursday, and coming out every Thursday subsequent.
And he was so excited to talk to someone whom I suppose he felt was one of his tribe.
That man was a zombie-fan first, and government officer second. Not that he didn’t do his job or something… he did. But this dude was all about the living dead. Funny stuff, and probably the best way to end our trip out of Korea…
As for Saigon? It’s hot and sunny. I’m still learning the city, adjusting to the climate, getting used our new situation.
I’ll say more about all that another time, though. Because this post? It’s all about the guy who was all about the zombies.