Expendable
When I first found out I was going to make the plunge and pick up on my own and move to Australia, I did my best research in advance to understand the culture so that I could blend in a little better, dress, and speak the language and not be taken advantage of.
I watched the documentaries that were readily available to me at the time via Netflix such as Crocodile Dundee I, II, and II, Mad Max 1, 2, 3 (most Australians I know haven’t watched this one yet), Muriel’s Wedding, Danny Deckchair, Gallipoli, and Crocodile Hunter: The Movie.
Last night I endeavoured to do the same thing to prepare me for my trip to Vietnam by watching a fascinating expose of an ex-military American Special Forces soldier by the name of John Rambo who was sent back to Vietnam in 1985 to try and find POW’s who the military had written off as dead.
The landscape was extremely beautiful just as I was hoping for, but I must say I’m starting to wonder what I’m getting myself into. A friend of mine in the US had seen this film as well and wished me luck and hoped that I met a “hot commando girl” like John did in the film, even though it sort of turned out to be a Greek tragedy in what happened in the end. I don’t want to give away anything in this truly classic piece of cinema (which was the second of a four part series apparently) but if my experience is anything like Mr Rambo’s, it will go something like this:
HCG (Hot Commando Girl): “Nick why you come to Vietnam?”
Me: “Because I’m expendable”
HCG: “What mean… expendable?”
Me: “It’s like… someone… invites you to a party, and you don’t show up; doesn’t really matter.”
HCG: “Nick….you not expendable. I go Australia with you?”
Me: “…Yeah”
But then she gets SHOT which totally sucks and I blow stuff up and fight giant Russians and stuff.
Just like it says in Lonely Planet!
