Les Go Say Goodbye.

Goodbye Hanoi

It’s official. My time in Hanoi is ending. After two years, twenty-four months, this chapter of my life is closing. What a beautiful end it was. Due to COVID-19 I am leaving on a weird note on unimaginable feelings. So, Les Go Say Goodbye.

The Experience

There are few times in one’s life where you go through something and come out the other side a changed person. I can say from the bottom of my heart that I am leaving Hanoi a changed person. A literal completely different being than when I stepped off the plane two years ago. The changes have been subtle in forms such as how I look, how I’ve aged, and how I carry myself to profoundly deep in forms such as how I think, interact with humans around me and how I process experiences.

I don’t think I have the skill set to describe the depth of how much this place has changed me. Change can be painful as a mother sucker but it is necessary to grow as a person. Without Hanoi I would not be the woman I am today. It’s as if my soul has been fundamentally transformed just by a city.

Within this city I saw raw human interactions. I experienced unconditional connections that have ultimately projected me onto the trajectory to the rest of my future. I struggled through heartbreak that was at points unbearable. At times I experienced a level of anxiety that has undoubtedly brought me closer to understanding the true Tammy. I have challenged myself in ways that I NEVER would have thought I’d have the capacity to do and I survived.

This by far has been the most emotional leaving I’ve ever experienced. I’ve left so many former homes I’ve lost count. I’ve said bye to so many people I’ve become numb to it. This goodbye feels like I am leaving a part of my soul. Because I am no longer the Tammy from two years ago I feel like I am saying bye to my old self.

The Love Letter

Hanoi, I have mad love for you. I’ll always cherish:

The feeling of driving around after midnight and soaking in the stillness of the abandoned streets.

The distinct smell of fish sauce, moldy buildings, and boiled chicken that will propel me to the back alleys of my first flat where I lived with the most precious woman I’ve ever met, Mama Thuy.

The precise timing of the Government propaganda music that blasts every morning at 7:30 directly outside my apartment.

The flower market at 3am where you can find everything from glitter-sprayed tulips to sunflowers that will immediately die once getting home.

The endless back alleys where I’d find myself lost for an extra 40 minutes but was too entranced by the sights and smells to care.

Lastly, the .30 cent Banh Mi sandwhiches. All the hipster-hangouts trying to sell Banh Mi’s for $7 in the States can miss me with that.

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The Future

I’ve never been more afraid for the future as I am today. I know the steps that I am taking will change the course of my life from here on out. As my friend told me as she walked me through my fear and anxiety, when you’re taking the steps towards what you were really meant to do, fear will try to stand in the way. Here’s to bulldozing through fear and perservering.

Though my plans are put on hold, I believe in the Universe. I believe we meet people who we are suppose to meet, make experiences we are suppose to experience and the Universe will always guide you. Everyone is up in the air in these unprecedented times. I am thankful for my privileged stance to get my ass back to my country when I can be quarantined with my quirky-ass Dad. There’s always a silver lining, you just have to find it.