What We All Long For

It’s the middle of the World Cup, and Korea is playing Italy in Japan. In each of the respective neighborhoods, fans gather to watch the match. When Korea wins, “the Italians declared days of mourning,” while “[t]he Koreans have erupted in a street party too sweet to mean anything less than world domination” (203).

Despite the rain, Tuyen takes her camera to photograph the revelry across the city. The jubilance reminds her of the day a year prior when she and Oku had driven to Quebec to demonstrate against globalization. In the demonstrations, the two were separated and Oku was arrested, an act of transgression caught on camera by Tuyen.

As she is snapping photographs, she realizes that she is taking a series of photographs of Binh. Binh is in a heated discussion with a man Tuyen doesn’t recognize, whose gestures are “both sinister and affectionate” (208). When the man turns around, she is surprised to see that he has “the face of a boy, a baby, innocent and expectant. There was something wrong about it” (208).

Tuyen hurries to leave before Binh catches her; she hears someone calling her as she rushes away, but turns around to find Oku, instead.