Some would say I was homesick. I don’t really know what that means, particularly since I don’t feel like I have a home yet. I know that I was frustrated . . . Frustrated with the inconvenience of foreign countries, and with the incredible difficulty I have found in trying to work on my goals while traveling. It was six months after I had left my job and I was starting to feel that antsy feeling I’ve been programmed to feel; You should have a job and be a productive, responsible member of society! I was getting emails from recruiters about jobs that looked perfect for me, I was developing a flirty online relationship that seemed like it could go somewhere, I was fantasizing about how much easier it would be to work on my book and fitness and music in the States, I was missing my family, I was sick of being a tourist, and I had just said goodbye to a friend heading back there himself to start a new phase in his life. And there I was, just “done”. Uninspired. Lonely. Aching to hunker down and focus and work on these things I wanted to work on.
This was the first major test. I knew it would come. I’ve felt this before. Last time I was traveling longterm, I had planned to be gone for 6 months, but I came home early for (mostly) the wrong reasons and I’ve regretted it ever since. There’s a reason why I scheduled my parents to meet me in Cambodia in October; I wanted to force myself to stay in Asia at least those seven months for the challenges and the growth and the experiences I knew I would have.
I know myself well enough to know that when I am not making progress or stagnating or feeling low, I won’t let it last long. I have to analyze it, break it down, make a plan, and then go all Crazy-Laura on it. I’m willing to do pretty wacky things to reach a goal, as we all know. And going home to the States would be the path of least resistance . . . But not the right path.
I like to be uncomfortable. I like inconvenience. Well, maybe not always, but I appreciate it. It is what alters my context to a point where joy and appreciation are more plentiful. It has been so much harder to lift or do Crossfit or work out, to eat a healthy diet, to write consistently, and to work on creative pursuits while traveling.
I have spent hours sweating my butt off in a bus, tuk-tuk, taxi, on-foot, etc trying to find a gym that was only described vaguely on a forum post or placed incorrectly on google maps. No one speaking much english, I repeatedly do olympic lifts charades-style to communicate and hope that wherever I end up, being a lone female in workout clothes doesn’t make me a target. Even the hateful stares at my bare shoulders can scare me away. I’m telling you, it’s scary sometimes to be a woman.
But I digress . . . Less complaining, more doing.
So I stayed in Hoi An 2.5 weeks. It’s a quaint little town by the ocean. Did I explore it? No. After wrestling with my demons, I took action. I holed up in my hotel room (a spendy $18/night) that was “luxury” itself. It had a fridge and a bathtub and A/C and hot water and fast internet!
I would wake up early every morning, go down to breakfast at a small restaurant next door. They made great omelets and had bacon and I would drink two vietnamese coffees (to die for!). Then I’d go back to my room and work on writing, listening to lectures on freedom, or practice guitar. Then I’d lay by the pool and read for an hour. Then I’d go back to work for a few hours. Then I’d head to another restaurant further down the street for fish or avocado, chicken and bacon salad.
Then I’d sip whiskey in the tub, reading and listening to Miles Davis. I was happy. My brain was working hard again, thrilled with its work. This is a joy I forget too easily. This is my productivity. My path was clear; “Stay the Course”.
I was planning to meet a friend in Sumatra, but that was just going to be more of the same trouble and distraction. I needed to go somewhere and stay and keep working. I decided to return to Kota Kinabalu where I had a great gym and friends and I found an apartment I could live in (instead of a hostel full of people all the time).
But first, I needed to reach Ho Chi Minh (Saigon) for my flight out to KL and by what other method would I choose than TRAIN?!!!
The soft sleepers were sold out. I went for a hard sleeper, and ended up on the top bunk. This was a triple-decker car and my berth was full of a cute Vietnamese family that took over the whole place, leaving me up in my cramped space for the entire journey.
I fought a little bit of claustrophobia, as there was maybe 18 inches of space above me. In and out of sleep, I would dream I was fighting various monsters that kept biting my hips and shoulders. I would wake up in a panic and realize that I wasn’t being bitten at all; it was my body trying to wake me up to roll over because my hips and shoulders were in major pain.
It’s amazing to me, however, that I wasn’t upset or annoyed at all this entire time. I really enjoyed it. I love trains.
Saigon . . . Ho Chi Minh . . . As we rolled into town in the morning, the announcer went over several facts about the city as well as informing us all of “Anti-America Day”, which doesn’t seem to come up on Google search, so it may’ve been a poor translation or a super-secret-special-socialist holiday. This was to be the first of many uncomfortable but eye-opening moments during my short stay in Saigon.
When you travel, I think it is important to try to see things from the perspective of the people who live where you are. I always say to myself: “this is normal to millions of people”, and it helps me not only chill out in stressful situations, but it also helps me step down a little from my own perspective of what normal or acceptable is. I’m not taking a stance on the Vietnam war or anything, but I will say that I am glad that I was able to experience a glimpse of the other side of an American war.
However, I must say that the murals at the Cu Chi Tunnels that showed American soldiers all bloodied up and fallen through traps upset me, even if I understood that American soldiers were the enemy to these people. Humans can be awful to one another.
The Cu Chi Tunnels were fascinating, however. If you don’t know (I didn’t know much myself before) the Viet Cong dug massive networks of very small tunnels where the soldiers hid and lived. They were very effective. If you're interested, it shouldn't be hard to learn more about them via the link above or a simple google search.
There is a long section of tunnels that have been made a little wider so tourists can go through and experience what it is like, however most people get cramped or scared and so there are exits every few meters at first. You have to walk in a squat, which would’ve been a lot more difficult for me a year before, but thankfully I and one or two others were able to do the whole section!
The murals above were from the sections where they showed all the different traps they built in the forest. Here are a few pictures.
Not disturbing at all . . . Thanks . . . I hate war. Blah.
Other than seeing the Cu Chi Tunnels, you can also fire a bunch of different machine guns there. In the past you used to be able to shoot live animals, but they stopped doing that a while back. I didn't partake. I had a beer instead. They also feed you some potato with peanut crumbles and tea afterwards.
After returning into town I took a long nap. I was planning on going to the "War Remnants Museum", but I was really exhausted physically and emotionally from the tunnels.
Other than that tour, I did a lot of walking around and wandering in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh). I liked it. Once you got out of the tourist section, it was just like normal life in many other asian cities I’ve been to, and it felt more comfortable to me. People are friendly and helpful and happy to see you. And by the way, when the Vietnamese people I met found out I was American, they were extra happy to see me and extra friendly, as has been the case in every country I’ve been to in Asia. Don’t believe the rhetoric of governments that hate one another. The people are not their governments!
Something I like to tell people about my time in Vietnam is: "I learned how to cross the street in Vietnam!"
What I mean by this is that the traffic is INSANE and there are basically no lights or crosswalks. You have to learn how to cross the street in the middle of thousands of motorcycles and some vehicles. You seriously just have to GO and you will not get hit. If you hesitate or try to avoid anybody, you will screw them all up and they will hit you and it will be your fault.
I honestly trust asian drivers here more than drivers in the States now. Weird, I know. The picture below is very mild traffic.
I also went to a movie, as I am known to do, and was impressed with their facilities. No salty popcorn, though. Cambodia wins on the popcorn so far. On my last evening, I sat in the park across from my hostel, listening to my headphones and drinking some beers, and watched a massive group of women do aerobics and a few kids work on their badminton skills with an instructor.
My bliss was interrupted by an earnest evangelical christian vietnamese man that kept asking me to accept Jesus into my heart. I humored him for a while, talking about spirituality and God and how I felt about it. I was being respectful. He, however, was not. He insisted that regardless of what I had said about where I was at with God, I needed to say I accepted Jesus in my heart. I asked him how he knew if I have or haven’t and why on earth would I need to say those specific words (especially to him in particular) in order to actually do it? This is the sort of thing that drives me absolutely crazy and makes me so angry towards religion; trying to force everyone through the same little hole like a God would make us all so different just to want us all to be the same. I forced myself to relax before I lost it on the guy and told him I knew he had the best of intentions but that without realizing it he was judging me and not allowing me my own spiritual journey and goodnight. Humans can be awful to one another.
Leaving Vietnam was a little more difficult than I thought it would be. I really liked it. I really want to spend more time there, especially in Hanoi and northern Vietnam. I may go back before heading back to the States. It was more beautiful than I could’ve imagined and though many people say they don’t like the people, I think that’s just a problem of tourists that can’t get off of the tourist circuit. That’s where all the negativity is, but I have more words on that for a later post.
