The Clouds of Da Nang.

It often rains in Da Nang. But even when the sun is shining, the clouds are never absent.

The clouds are small and airy, soft and wispy. They move quickly from one end of the city to the other, adding a gentle touch to the landscape. The Vietnamese take pride in them; they may seem to ignore them, but they keep a watchful eye, and tourists better not interfere with their playful back-and-forth.

They are the students in their traditional white garments, cycling through the streets of the city.

They are almost always white, but sometimes they are a little gray or ivory, delicately adorned with traditional Vietnamese art motifs. It seems impossible that they manage to stay so pristine, fluttering in the gray mediocrity of urban life. Apparently aimless, and as is fitting for adolescence, their condition is one of perpetual, lively, and cheerful roaming everywhere in search of adulthood.

It takes little to add a touch of elegance where war has left only mediocre late Soviet architecture.

A river, the sea, and… the *educande* in their long, flowing, and rustling traditional attire. A sight that enchants visitors during the customary hours of school rituals.