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.
