When Travel Expectations are Exceeded
In the midst of my ever-present pining for the Great Unknown, one country regularly grabs my attention: France. It might be cliché or even boring to focus on the most obvious travel destination, but the heart wants what the heart wants. The delectable combination of peaches, cheese and crepes paired with a finely honed sense of style and seasoned with a light dusting of pretentiousness brings this country from the middle of Europe straight to the middle of my heart.
Nowhere like Normandy
In the middle of Normandy this summer, in a tiny hotel in a tiny town, I fell even more in love with France. While the cheese and wine may help, it was more than that. Je ne sais quoi, maybe it was the joie de vivre or the soup du jour. Either way, France was absolutely magical.
The Undignified Demise of a Rummed-Up Slunky
Actually the place wasn’t even called Slunky – that says Slinky now that we’re all sober
Yes, Virginia, there is a Slunky.
Although Thailand was not where I expected we’d meet.
Thailand has always held that wonderful aura of Exotic for me. It’s got the dense jungle, mysterious temples and edible bugs to intrigue me. However on my recent trip there I discovered I am not the only one to whom Thailand beckons.
Nope, turns out I am just a sheep in the herd.
Green Theme in Ireland
Ireland lived up to its Emerald-y reputation this summer. There was green grass, green ivy, green leprechauns dancing about on their wee green shamrocks. But the color that was most surprising was the blue. No, that sky isn’t photo shopped. We had real, live sunny blue sky days as we traipsed to the end of the rainbow. Yowzahs! What a trip! Ireland, I look forward to seeing you again soon.
Losing my Residency
Today I am a little less – fake – South African. As of last week I am no longer a legal resident of the Rainbow Nation. If I go back now I will have to queue up at immigration with all the – ugh – tourists; without any distinction, any recognition or any applause for having already established a relationship with the bergs, straands and chesters that lie beyond the customs desk. My ninety day visitor stamp will belie the fact that I am more in tune with this place than those other schmucks coming to look at elephants.
For the last ten months I’ve felt like nothing short of a traveling badass with my sweet combination of American citizenship, Vietnamese residency and South African residency. I am a walking conversation starter. But according to the visa in my passport, South Africa has decided it’s time for me to be demoted. That’s right: I’ve just been dumped, and by an entire country, no less.
8 Months In
No scooter yet lies beneath me, but I am suddenly aware of becoming just a little bit Vietnamese. After 8 months here in Da Nang, Vietnam, the previously weird begins to morph into the vaguely familiar. Although Home with a capital H remains Michigan, little guy h home has become right here. The view off my balcony – of five karaoke bars, two lit up neon bridges and the newest Dragon Bridge that really, actually breathes fire – is somewhat normal. I’m comfortable packing my own toilet paper anywhere I go and don’t ever consider drinking water from the tap, even when I’m thirsty and half asleep. Chopstick by chopstick, I’m adapting.
Happy Togetho
It’s great to be happy.
In the six week hiatus since the last post I have jetted off to America, had an incredible three weeks with my family, struggled through a round of goodbyes that was no less than devastating, and emerged on the other side with one great, big, silly grin. Why? Because the day after I arrived back in Vietnam a present landed on my doorstep…JD.
Home Sweet Far Away Home
In case you haven’t guessed by now, I love to travel. It’s a passion that has dictated several moves, many flights and countless bus rides over the years. So, as a self-proclaimed travel addict, my next statement might seem strange: there’s no place like home (insert eye roll).
You Look so Nice and Fat Today
Guess which one I am.
Fat is in, baby. Here in Vietnam it’s the fatter, the better. At least that’s what I hope is going on. You see, size is an issue for me here. The scale of my life is quite simply bigger than the average Vietnamese. I need a bigger chair; a bigger dress; bigger shoes. It’s a bit like Alice in Wonderland, although the rabbits are less concerned with time. And size is a repeat topic of conversation between me and my Vietnamese friends.
In Vietnam you call it as you see it, and polite conversation has different rules. Standard greeting questions are, What is your name? Are you married? How old are you? Instead of beating around the bush like we do back home, they cut straight through the nonsense. No harm meant. Chit-chat also takes unusual turns. You look so tired! You look so much better last time! You should get married soon or you will be too old to have children. It takes some getting used to, but at least you know it’s genuine, and it makes the positive remarks all the more meaningful. On days when I’m told I look good, I strut my stuff knowing it must be true. On days when I’m told I look bad…well, it keeps me humble.
Hello, Weekend!
Good morning, Vietnam! Happy Saturday, everyone!
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