Braving Uncomfortable Spaces (Hoi An & Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam)

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.

Mud Bathing in Phong Nha (Vietnam)

After our two day adventure in Ha Long Bay, Jamison and I took a much needed shower at the hostel in Hanoi, ate a quick dinner and then loaded on to the overnight bus to Phong Nha, home of the world’s largest cave (and many other caves!) and absolutely gorgeous scenery. 

It was a reluctant goodbye, for sure. For some reason, I get vibes of places, and Hanoi had a really good feel to it. Yeah, it’s busy and crowded and smelly and full of touts and you most certainly need to barter and check your change constantly, but it has good character. And it’s super cheap! I would love to return for a longer visit.

The bus was quite comfortable, and a great deal for $27 dollars. This “boomerang” bus is a deal you can get where you can do a jump-on, jump-off travel along the north tourist towns in Vietnam at your own leisure (for the most part). It had A/C, reclining seats with plenty of leg room, blankets, water, snacks, an onboard movie, and wifi! 

When we arrived in the morning, we found accommodation easily, as the town is just a small strip with some hotels and restaurants. I believe it was called “Easy Tiger”. Jamison convinced me we needed to rent a motorbike, and I am very grateful that we did, because it was a highlight of the trip! We zipped around exploring the gorgeous scenery for a few hours, visiting a few of the main caves in the area.

First we visited Paradise Cave, which was a very large cave with a lot of intricate formations and ceilings that had the most gorgeous colorations, almost like the earth’s own Sistine Chapel.

I was asked to take a photo with several groups of Vietnamese, but this girl below was super cute AND she was wearing an American flag hat, while I was wearing a Vietnamese flag hat, so I had to get a photo as well.

Before heading back to the bike, we got the most yummy coffee ice-cream I’ve ever had (and I’m not an ice cream fan usually). Then we headed to tour “Dark Cave” which was a really fun and affordable ($13) experience. I have zero photos of this because it is a VERY muddy and VERY wet trek, so all of our belongings and most of our clothing was removed and stored on shore.

First, Jamison and I had to get back in a kayak and fight our way down and across the river to the cave entrance. If you read my previous post you would know that we are pretty much incompatible when it comes to navigating a kayak together. It didn’t matter how much we tried to communicate or let the other lead; we were lost. By the end we were all incredulous laughter.

In the cave, as the guide practically ran ahead into the darkness, we struggled and scrambled and slipped and climbed our way through a progressively muddier and muddier cave until the mud and muddy water was up to our chest in some places. Then we reached a “slide” which took us down into a big mud pit where the guide instructed us to turn off our headlamps and take a “mud bath” for health. So we complied and laid back in the mud for a while until we couldn’t help experimenting with making rude noises. We were 12 for a while.

Then the guide took us back up to an underground lake in the cave, where we cleaned the mud off. Then the guide told us to swim all the way to the end of the lake and then turn off our headlamps and swim back in the dark!! Jamison and I weren’t too excited to go off into the darkness of the water and down into the back of the cave, but we did it anyway like good dumb-and-overly-trusting tourists. 

I tried very hard not to think about what sorts of long, scaly, and sharp-toothed creatures could be lurking beneath the water. I tried very hard not to think about the creepy bug life climbing the walls or the potentially-hazardous bat excrement I was breathing in as we did our fastest breaststrokes to complete the course and appease our guide. And we made it!! No bites, no drowning, and no diseases . . . That I know of.

The next day Jamison did a day tour of several other cave systems in the area, and I saved my money and stayed in to get some errands done (Traveling is not vacation, people! It is a lot of work and things pile up just as quickly as back home, believe it or not!). During his absence I was accused of stealing headphones from this annoying backpacker who was certain my headphones were his (you know, ‘cause white Apple earbuds are so rare in this world!) to the extent that he approached me three times, including seeking me out in my room where he walked in without even knocking and demanded to see them himself to get “the serial number” so he could order more . . . Right . . . I got pretty upset, I admit. For anyone to think that I would STEAL or LIE, particularly about something like this was profoundly upsetting. It felt like an attack on my character and I was CERTAIN they were mine but I won’t bore you with the details of why. I didn’t think about the fact that this guy knows absolutely nothing about me, no. After calming down, I was surprised at myself for my reaction and how I let it get to me. The guy did take it way too far, it’s true, but his suspicion, particularly in a hostel environment is not unfounded in general. The whole thing reminded me that unfortunately there are a lot of people that would take something left on a table and then lie about it later if the original owner came back to claim it. 

I know that I need to work more on not taking things personally, especially from people ignorant to who I am or just plain ignorant in general. Why care about what someone thinks about you if you already know their intellectual abilities to be flawed or at least that their philosophies and belief systems are not in line with your own? 

Well, the guy chilled out and Jamison and I enjoyed a very delicious dinner with our super cheap beers that evening and laughed about it. The next morning, Jamison and I caught the boomerang bus on the scenic trip to Hoi An; a town that is a UNESCO world heritage site. It is famous for its architecture, being a great place to get cheaply tailored suits and other clothing, and being a quaint, laid back town. I ended up staying for over 2 weeks!

Jamison was only with me for a few days here. We went to the beach, discussed our uncertain futures, and relaxed by the pool at the hostel before he flew on to his next destination. 

I miss you, buddy! Cheers!

Ode to Joy: The Health-Promoting Benefits of Relative Debauchery With Phytoplankton In Attendance (Ha Long Bay, Vietnam)

I wasn’t planning on going to Vietnam until October or November, but when my friend Jamison (from the Sri Lanka crew) asked if I would be willing to meet him there in June to travel together again for a week, it wasn’t hard to say yes. I already knew we were compatible traveling companions and let’s face it . . . the guy is HILARIOUS. I can always use more laughter in my life. 

I flew into Hanoi, the largest city in the north, and easily found a shared van into town for the equivalent of about two dollars. Jamison had already checked into the big chain “Hanoi Backpackers” hostel but what neither of us realized beforehand is that there were two locations, so that caused a slight but recoverable fumble in our meeting up.

Once we found one another, I followed Jamison through the labyrinth of narrow streets, dodging the copious motorbikes and ever-present donut saleswomen to the 20-something-&-drunk infested hostel to check in for the night. Bags deposited, we were aware we needed to figure out tours and how to get to Halong bay, but first, Priorities: pho and beer. 

You see, I’ve come to learn that when one arrives in a new place, no major decisions should be made until sitting calmly with a cold-but-often-quickly-warming [alcoholic] beverage in hand while awaiting delivery of the local nourishment.

We caught up on the last few months’ happenings; the gossip, the drama, and our travel adventures, as well as conferring on matters of the heart and what’s next for both of us. It was relieving for both of us to share this common but comforting ritual while in foreign territory. 

Upon returning to the hostel, we decided to book an expensive ($200-ish) 3 day, 2 night tour in Ha Long Bay called “Castaways” which looked like a crazy booze cruise, but one of Jamison’s friends had highly recommended it, and it involved a night stay on a boat and then one night on a “private island” and included all food. 

After paying for the tour, we ventured out into Hanoi for an evening exploration. We lucked out and found a little park where kids of all ages were roller-skating, roller-blading, and even skating on these little foot-size skate boards.

Then we walked around the big pond near the hostel where I found one of the government-provided outdoor gyms (gotta love socialism a little bit, yeah?!). There were dip bars, barbells, dumbbells, etc. I stopped briefly to take the barbell (some had cement on the ends for weight) off the rack to do some clean & jerks for the old men’s entertainment. 

Afterwards, this old guy did his best to show me up:

The next morning we took a bus to the bay and got on the boats, headed out into the limestone islands of Halong bay with cheap booze in our hands and bellies, eyes popping with the pressure from our blown minds because the place is simply amazing. No, really. I had thought it was just a handful of large limestone formations coming out of the ocean in a little cluster. Oh no. There are over three thousand of these things (islets) jutting out of the bay in the space of 1553 square kilometers (965 square miles).

Here’s a cute story: “Halong” means “descending dragon” in Vietnamese. The legend is that long ago, Vietnam faced invasion (as they have many times since), and a mother dragon and her children came to the rescue, spitting fire and large emeralds at the enemy, which created the labyrinth of islets we see today. It is now a UNESCO world heritage site as well as one of the seven wonders of the world.

On the first day of the tour, we took a kayaking trip through some of the islets. I didn’t bring my camera because there was no way to keep it safe in the water, but believe me when I say it was exactly the idyllic scenario you would imagine. 

Jamison and I shared a kayak and quickly learned that being compatible traveling partners does not necessarily equal compatibility in kayak navigation. We are quite the unwieldy pair on water, as has been evidenced again since. Despite this handicap, we did manage to follow the group through a tunnel into a small, empty bay surrounded by high limestone cliffs and joined the others in diving off our kayaks into the emerald green water. 

When we returned to the boat, we spent the next hour or so jumping off the top of the boat into the water, and laughing as several of the guys failed their attempts at back flips. It took a while to get everyone to take a leap, but I believe we all did it at least once, and we all returned to the party safely, though Jamison’s foot did find a live wire at one point. [!!!]

The next day, after a fabulous dinner and a night of drinking games but a decent bedtime for at least half of us, we arrived at the “private island” which was really a private beach with several shacks, a large bar area, a rock-climbing area, a speedboat for tubing, and more kayaks. I spent the day laying in the sun, tubing, swimming, playing frisbee, drinking, and eating yummy food. 

We eagerly awaited sundown so we could go out into the water and experience the fabled phytoplankton . . . We were told that if we were lucky, there would be enough sun that day to power the Phytoplankton so that it would glow in the water when disturbed. It had been a sunny day, so when we came out to swim, with every move of our arms or legs, a bunch of little bits of light would swirl around our limbs. It was like swimming in glitter! 

A group of us stayed out there for hours fueled by the occasional beer thrown to us from the shore, and bashfully yet unabashedly skinny-dipped with the phytoplankton in a kind of pre-adolescent asexual defiance that incited far more giggles and grins than prurience.

That ended up being my favorite part: effortlessly floating on my back in Ha Long Bay, nude, looking up at the crazy amount of stars in satisfied disbelief. It made me think of my favorite scene in “Immortal Beloved” where the deaf Beethoven is debuting “Ode to Joy” and caught in a memory of himself as a boy floating on his back in a pond reflecting the stars. I was feeling a special kind of freedom; the beauty of nakedness, celebrated.  

Maybe a little bit of “relative” debauchery every now and again is healthy for the human spirit; a kind of detox in its own right.

Now that I think about it, there is an important kind of freedom you can experience when doing something a little bit (or even entirely) “naughty” or just “irresponsible” relative to your own context of self, society, family, etc. It could be something as simple as having a beer for breakfast on vacation, or calling in sick to work to go to the beach instead, or something as life-altering as quitting your soul-crushing job to start a new and less lucrative career that will fulfill you. 

It’s an assertion of independence; an expression of the power of your own choice. It is a dare from yourself; an experiment. Its origins can be vice or virtue. At times it turns into folly, but many times, (even if it causes you pain), it can be a beautiful moment in your human experience; one that adds depth or perhaps enables the rise of your next great phoenix. It is your Zarathustrian lion ripping its teeth through the burdensome flesh of the “Thou Shalt”!

[Whew! Let me catch my breath, here.] 

Okay. Yes, yes, the trick is not to overindulge in this practice, otherwise it loses its power. This is true for many things. That freedom you enjoyed can go from novelty and expression to being folded into your every day. It can turn on you and devour you whole. And I’m not suggesting you go run around breaking every rule you know every five seconds willy-nilly like some mindless idiot spinning out on a freedom frenzy. Of course not. 

I think much more of you and your potential, my friend.

There is risk. Risk all around you. This is why (understandably) so many religions, cultures, societies, or ideologies try to “save people from themselves” by requiring strict adherence to a set of rules, expectations, or pure abstinence from things that in many cases really only require balance which most people can actually find for themselves naturally. However, I understand that for those that can’t find balance, the consequences for themselves and others can be debilitating. 

I have long felt that those who make black-and-white rules for the masses are usually those who cannot or will not find balance or self-control and believe others are just as incapable. Additionally, followers or admirers of such people often believe another’s path is the only path to the same end and cheat themselves out of the experience of getting there on their own and losing themselves in the process. The intention is good and entirely understandable, but far from a requirement for the achievement of reaching your greatest potential. There are many paths.

I often consider these sorts of moral guidelines and frameworks as “training wheels”; they can be a good start, but eventually the ride is a whole lot better once you can go without. I would rather struggle and fall and learn to find balance for myself because I believe it will make me stronger and better in the end. And to be honest, I feel it is more authentic for me. I think I’ve always been that type, though. I have to bash myself around this life to find the form of it so I can find my path on my own. 

Because of this, I feel I know myself and my limitations far better, which will help me make more informed decisions for myself in the future. And those decisions are based on data I have collected and conclusions I have drawn myself. The power of this cannot be understated. 

So how does this all relate to Halong bay and floating around naked like a heathen, grinning ear to ear? Here’s the thing: All of my life I’ve wanted the freedom to travel, not “vacation”, but travel for long periods. I wanted freedom to spend a significant amount of time working on goals to grow and improve myself outside of my “career”. I wanted the freedom to ask myself questions and give myself the quiet and time and space to answer honestly. I wanted the freedom to change as well as come back to myself. 

All of these things you can have in bites if you really work them into your schedule, but there is great power and progress when you can focus all of your efforts on just a few things. I tend to work best that way. 

I plan to write a lot more about this in the future, but after lots of research and thinking and planning and work and sacrifice (and perhaps a bit of risk thrown in) I found my path to a freedom which would require a large chunk of time and a relatively small chunk of money. 

It would mean I would eventually have to quit my job and take at least a year off. It would mean I would have to save even more money than I was already. And it would mean that I would have to let go of a lot of fears that society has programmed into me and put faith in myself, the power of authenticity and hard work. 

I sold and donated most of my possessions. I bought and moved into a van to live in while I was earning a very good salary in Silicon Valley. I spent the time to learn about investing. And these first few steps led to so many other things that taught me a greater depth of self-reliance, the freedom of living simply, self-confidence, and the power of experimenting outside of the guidelines. 

As a result, I showed myself that I could do really hard and crazy things and actually enjoy it. It taught me that by continuing to learn, live simply, and be self-reliant, money didn’t have to rule my life or decisions. I wouldn’t have to work until I was 65 or older. I wouldn’t have to keep working any job out of fear or financial concern. I wouldn’t have to pay through the nose for all of the loans or conveniences and services that so many think are required to live a good life. I could give myself the freedom to take jobs that interested me with people that I loved working with regardless of salary, or choose to not “work” in a traditional job at all. What is “work” anyway and why is it so virtuous? (Ahem, I digress . . . )

There are tradeoffs, of course, but that is the whole point. Being more intentional with your financial choices translates into being more intentional with your life choices, and it gives you the freedom to really put your money where your true priorities are. I have all of the power to give myself freedom, happiness, peace, passion, inspiration, and joy by manipulating my own context. It’s all in the context, people. 

Anyways, sorry for throwing all of that up just now, because I wasn’t planning on going into all of this quite yet, so let me just say . . . 

I gained so much more than the ability to skinny-dip in Halong Bay, but I’d say it’s a definite perk of marching to the beat of my own drum. I know you all do to some extent, so I encourage you to bring your drum out a little more frequently and play around with some context experimentation on your own life. 

Float naked for me.