Les Go…

Luang Prabang

We are currently celebrating Tet (Lunar New Year) in Vietnam so we have 7 glorious days off from work, school, life. The city literally shuts down for 7 days and pollution dips down to acceptable levels and all is at peace. Sounds great but in reality I was not ready or willing to sit in my house with only my thoughts for 7 days so I randomly bought a 40 minute flight to Laos.

I went to Luang Prabang to do absolutely nothing. I didn’t realize how small and quaint the town actually was but it is a stunning place to do absolutely nothing. I stayed at a perfect hostel that was run by all of these backpacker-types who travel round the world and stay for free at hostels. I knew of this concept but to see it in practice is pretty entertaining. But, If I had known about that when I was 19/20 I def would have tried that.

Luang Prabang has a tiny city center and that’s basically it. The average age of tourists seemed to be about 55 and they were precious. I have a soft spot for older people so they made my heart smile. After lounging ’round the hostel and exploring the city center I knew I had to get a little outside the center to see the beauty I’ve heard so much about.

Kuang Si Waterfall

Well, hello Beautiful. This waterfall lays about 40 minutes outside the city center and was way more than I was expecting. It was still pretty chilly in the morning (bout 50 degrees. I literally always only pack summer clothes because I refuse to accept any temperatures below 70 degrees) so I didn’t go swimming but the water was inviting nonetheless. Yea, there were many tourists there and of course people are taking their 500 selfies but, hey, who I am to judge how others travel. Take yo selfies, girl.

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What took me by surprise was how pristine and clean everything was. Though there were tons of tourists they respected the surroundings and weren’t complete assholes. Score one for humanity.

Public Service Announcement

Speaking of assholes, tourists, stop it with the elephant tourism. There were so many elephant “sanctuaries” that were littering the streets it made my stomach turn. I am a devout elephant lover. I find them to be majestic, gentle, and intelligent. And because I am an elephant lover I would never go to these sanctuaries. Yes, without these places they are susceptible to poachers but, elephants should not be domesticated in any sense. We should not be bathing them, touching them and fuckin riding them like a horse in these sanctuaries. Just simple observations should suffice.

The Feels

Because there’s nothing to do in Luang Prabang there’s everything to do. Luang Prabang left me with a calming presence that was easy to find amoungst all the people. Locals smiled at me which felt so damn good (it’s the little things) and the air was fresh! It was the exact place I needed at this time to recenter and put everything into perspective. Also, I found this charming ass cafe that had the sweetest pup named Geroge. Life is good.

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Approximately 6 months to the day two foster dogs entered my life. One a little special, the other extremely traumatized. I was reluctant and scared because I know how attached I get to dogs. As an expat I jut can’t be out here with two dogs but there I was. So, Les Go: Final Foster Update.

The lead up

They knew something was up. First I allowed Bun the special one in my bed and then Momo the traumatized one slowly climbed in. It felt right. It felt like home. Since getting the dogs, my main goal was to get them to a point where they could find a forever home. Slowly, step-by-step. And in my head the first step was getting a collar on Momo. It was harder than it looked but the day before her departure we finally got one on her. And she was a brand new dog.

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It’s funny that one little change can make a world of difference. Yes, she was scared as shit to have this on but once it was on she loosened up, become more of a snuggle bug. Maybe she knew she wasn’t going to see me for a long time and decided to show me a little extra love but, hey, I’ll take it!

Adoption

Fostering pets is hard. You think you’re doing the right thing (you are) but the emotional toll it takes on you is rough. Or maybe it’s just me? I have dog abandonment issues. Any who. After putting them on facebook and getting plenty of likes with no bites we agreed that one half of the unit would take them on to their next journey: Saigon.

As anywhere in Hanoi getting there is half the battle. It is never easy and you always have to think of 1000 steps before actually taking the first step.

So the only options really for transporting two dogs across country was train. The good ole train. They have a proper section in the train and someone feeding and watching over them but a bitch was stressing. Look at their faces:

All I can say during this whole process is that we would not have been able to even fathom this process without the help of a volunteer at Hanoi Pet Rescue, Trung Anh. The patience and calming presence of him was astounding. Someone pay this man! lol

Reflection

I am used to having special dogs. I once had a one-eyed blind dog who beat breast and gum cancer. That bitch was a beast. I am used to getting inspiration from their attitude and how they persevere through any situations. If you really take a moment to look at life through a dog’s eyes it can change your whole outlook. Momo was captured for dog meat with her mouth zipped shut. Bruh, DOG. MEAT. and she still has the capacity to trust, to love. If I can’t wake up every day and let others in and let others know I love them then something is wrong with me.

My moto for my time here in Hanoi is, if Momo can, I can. You can. We can. If she can allow humans to show her love and accept their love then we can. Though her eyes revealed a deep sadness that I hope to never know her heart overcame it. The way she would lie in the sun and soak up every drop or how she would lean into a muzzle rub because she trusted that there was still love out there should show everyone the power of perspective and outlook.

Day 1:

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Final Day (6 months later)

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Long live Bun and Momo.

Oh. Heartbreak is shit. I think we all know that but when you’re in the shit all you can see is shit. Being abroad in shit may be the hardest thing to comprehend but here we are. So, Les Go: Heartbreak in Hanoi.

Bitter Bitch

As you get older you tell yourself you’re not gonna get bitter. You’re not gonna lose your rose-tinted glasses but then you get older and one heartbreak happens and your heart develops one more layer. Then you get through it and over it and try again. Maybe the next heart break isn’t as bad and maybe it’s because you have that extra layer ’round your heart. So you think, I can do this again for real. And then it happens. The layer on your heart isn’t strong enough and your shit gets shattered. Then you realize you’re now the bitter ole bitch you never wanted to be.

The thing with letting people in is that you never know their next moves. At least in chess you can see the board and prepare but in love it’s any mans game. But heartbreak in Hanoi as a lesbian expat is a whole nother game. It’s like you’re in a vortex. You’re isolated, you don’t speak the language and you’re surrounded by a society where people like you (LGBT) are so hidden it’s easier to find Waldo. But, here I am.

Yea, I’m heartbroken because of falsehoods in relationships but also for my best friend who I can’t be there for. For the walls that I’ve built that prevent me from forming close relationships. For a new decade that started in shit.

But, on the flip side when you’re heartbroken in Hanoi you can pamper yourself hella cheaply. I got a 90 full body massage today for $13 USD. Let that soak in. THIRTEEN dollars for a NINETY minute massage. I also got a $1 coffee at the cutest little coffee shop that made me feel like I was in a beach town. So there is that.

And like any sane person, I cut all my hair off. Who was I kidding tryin to grow that shit out!

I guess the best all humans can do is be kind to each other and mind your karma. Here’s to 2020.

Well well. It’s that time of year again, or so they say. This is the second year in a row where I’ve spent Christmas away from the fam and it hasn’t gotten easier. I feel this one has been particularly painful because of changes that are on the crisp horizon of 2020. But here we are… So, Les Go Christmas.

Christmas morning

I don’t let dogs in the bed. I think dogs in the bed is some dirty shit. But it is Christmas so I allowed fatty fat Bun to hop into the bed and man she loved it. I mean, look at that face.

Christmas in Hanoi is just like any other day. Today though, Hanoi felt really magical. The weather could not have been better after a few shit days of cold rain and people actually did seem more friendly. As we were driving we stopped along the street to have street food and I really thought it was magical. Sometimes Hanoi captures your little heart and you realize that there is no where on this globe like this city.

I prob could have sat there all day on the little plastic stool and watched as the characters of HN breezed past but we promptly got swept off the street by police. Who know that eating street food in HN was technically illegal? Because literally everyone in HN didn’t get that memo.

After a delicious brunch at Meli Coffee and Brunch we explored through some of the coolest alleys I’ve been through in Hanoi. It’ amazing that families actually live within labyrinth dwellings that have so many sounds and smells. I could have walked through these alleys for days.

There’re little pockets in Hanoi that are truly astounding. It is really hard to describe because I could never type the sounds, smells, or sights in one sentence or even paragraph. Yea, the people aren’t super friendly when you walk down the streets or in the alleys but maybe that’s part of the appeal. It’s as though I’m a fly on the wall (though I know they see my white ass) as people go about their normal day. The alley families have probably lived there for multiple generations and something about the whole positioning of the houses is comforting. Claustrophobic, but comforting.

To top off the day we sipped lotus tea as soaked up the sun. Not bad, I reckon.

*These are jus my thoughts thus far. A different side of the story will come soon.*

People say you either love BKK or hate it. Now hate is a strong word and I never like to say I hate places that I’ve traveled to but, I am on the strongly dislike side of BKK. I am currently half way through my 5-day trip and I’ve never wanted to be back to Hanoi so bad in my life. So, Les Go To Bangkok.

Getting Here

The one highlight of our trip thus far has been the hostel. We stayed at Niras Bangkok Cultural Hostel in “Old Bangkok.”

The place is filled with charm and is super old-people friendly. Actually, maybe too much so because it’s so quiet it’s a little lonely. But, from the atmosphere I’ve seen out in them streets, it’s probably for the better.

So, I think me and major big cities just don’t get along. I’d enjoy living in one but traveling to one is a whole ‘nother story. It is too much pressure for me to plan and I feel everything always goes wrong. Starting with this trip. I stupidly booked the hostel to our island stay first before checking return ferry times. Well, as you may guess, the ferry times do not coincide with our return flight. So, I was $90 USD in the hole before I even got to this god-forsaken city.

From the airport to our hostel it was an easy Sky Rail journey that took us on top the city. But, from our stop to the hostel is where it got tricky. Now I know this is going to come off as ridiculous but, I’ve traveled all over the damn world and I can equivocally state with damn near empirical data to back me up that cab drivers are the. worst. Globally. It literally doesn’t matter what country, neighborhood, region, altitude, longitude or latitude, them muthasuckers suck.

So, after arguing with a cabbie who tried to blatantly rob us, we stopped into this hipster, trendy ass cafe that really set me in a happy place. At this point I thought, “OK, I’ll like BKK.”

The neighborhood

After settling in the hostel we began to explore the city. On first impression, our neighborhood really reminded me of Panang, Malaysia. I loved Panang. One endearing thing I noticed is that most of the street dogs wore T-shirts. Not sure to the reason but they looked adorable.

But, as we got deeper into sections of BKK and as the days progressed you realize all of this is made for us, tourist. For the Banana Pancake Trail travelers. And please for the love of Goddess, if that makes me one of them then jus kill me now. Firstly, I’ve never seen so many white people with dreads. Don’t even get me started. Then the fuckn elephant pants. Really? And the sleazy old white men roaming around participating in sex-tourism. I literally can not. And it’s really sad because these people have come into what was probably a great city and brought all their filth. The only reason why there’s got damn elephant “sanctuaries” and fuggin baby limars that you can hold for $1 a pic is because of them.

And yes, we’ve ventured out of those type areas but something about BKK just seems fabricated and lost. For example, where do all the locals and residents live? I swear to you every building is abandoned. Though the streets are teeming with thousands of people, the buildings from the first floor up are abandoned and dark.

I am SO glad that Hanoi is nothing near like BKK. For now.

Ha Giang is the holy grail for all bad ass motorcyclist in Vietnam. I suppose. But I feel if you can stomach driving rush hour in Hanoi then you’re a certified bad ass bitch, if I do say so myself. Ha Giang is nestled among breathtaking mountains and rice paddies. As you’re winding through the mountains and holding your breath around each curve you definitely have lots of time to think. So, Les Go to Ha Giang.

The Logistics

I am a punctual person. I am always early to meetings and am very organised. Funnily, my dogs apparently are too because they wake up every single morning at 6am with no fail. Getting to Ha Giang takes about 6 hours so I booked the early bus and was suppose to meet my friend at 6am sharp. Well, I pleasantly woke to my dogs (like clockwork) at 6:01 am. We were off to a good start, my friends.

So basically Ha Giang is the upper northern region of Vietnam and from it’s top point, touches China. Needless to say, though it’s far it’s a pretty simple way to get there. I booked a local bus to transport the 6 hour trip. Let me tell you, the local bus station in Hanoi, Vietnam is a fuckin trip. Firstly, it’s not a place with someone with anxiety because right as you step your backpackin-foreigner face through the gate there are about 11 men all yelling at you about buses. We mistakenly told them where we were headed and they swept us into the wrong bus (but going to the same destination) and we unfortunately had to pay twice.

All in all, if you can deal with strangers grabbing your arms and yelling in your face, having to take off your shoes to get in the bus and wear fungus-filled flip flops when going to public bathrooms, then by all means book the public bus. Otherwise, a private hire is prob the best way to get around Northern Vietnam.

Motorcycle Diaries

When I think over the trip it actually blows my mind more that my nephew is not even 19 yet and has driven through the upper mountains along the Vietnam and China border. People where I’m from jus don’t get up one day and do that shit, especially not at 18.

The actual ride throughout the mountains is stunning. You’d round a corner and emerge onto a breath taking mountain valley with the clouds settling along the middle and just think, “shit, I hope my bike makes the extremely sharp turn.” I’ve barely master Hanoi driving so there was no way I was riding, I stayed my ass on the back of the bike!

Not only are the winding roads awe striking but the local people that live in these small communities are astounding. Women and children appear to run the show in Northern Vietnam. These women, and unfortunately children, were doing back-breaking work. I mean carrying huge bundles of sticks, plants, bricks, honestly anything. Sadly it seems like there is no real childhood in the mountains of Vietnam.

Do it for the culture

There are various ethnic groups in the Ha Giang region. As you’re traversing through the mountains, it was very common to see women and children dressed in beautiful, colorful textiles working or zooming past on their bikes.

If I had to say, watching my nephew’s reaction in his first homestay was priceless. The carefully selected homestays were the perfect experience for someone to really get the all encompassing feeling of village. And there was plenty of food.

The most heart warming experience was sitting with the matriarch of the Dao ethnic homestay as she steadily poured rounds of shots of corn wine to the guest. No offence, but corn wine tastes like straight moonshine mixed with lighter fuel. Every time my poor fresh green nephew took a tiny sip his whole body would contort. His response, “Do it for the culture!”

If you’ve ever been to SE Asia you know markets are a thing. They can be overwhelming with all of the smells, people, and noises. Now, through immense amounts of livestock on top of that and you have the Ha Giang market. There was so much stimuli that my eyes couldn’t keep up. One could literally get all of their shopping in one spot: 1 pig, a puppy (unfortunately), a Chinese smuggled cell phone, and spices to keep the evil spirits away. What more could you ask for?

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Making the trip to the Ha Giang loop takes plannin and determination if you’re gonna do it on motorbike. Luckily we booked with Ha Giang Local Tours which could not have been better. We wouldn’t have experienced half of the stuff we saw without them.

If I could just encapsulate the feeling of the perspective you get of your place in the world as you glide through those mountains then maybe that would be my nirvana. But until then, I’ll keep grindin n traveling.

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We are rounding the corner on week on of my nephew’s 5-week stay in VN and I swear this man has already done more than I have in my 1. 5 years here. We’ve nearly marked off all of the things on my list, I love lists, and are far exceeding all expectations. So, Les Go: Week One.

Vietnam is known for its food. Though the country really isn’t that big, it is mighty, as history shows. The same goes for the cuisine. Each region up and down the country has different flavors and specialities. In my opinion, Hanoi gets the short end of the stick when it comes to flavor, but they do have hot pot.

I always was intrigued driving past the street hot pot places filled with a young, boisterous crowd. Though intriguing, I never stopped into to taste the overflowing cornucopia that is Hot Pot. With Hot Pot, you’re basically given all of this raw food and you cook the stew to your liking.

There are so many things. Like tofu, shrimp, clams, crab, squid, octopus (sorry octos, I know you are geniuses and can conceptualise your fate), fish and crab cakes, mushrooms and beef. I was game for all of it, sans beef. As you sit around this mass of food the communal atmosphere engulfs you and you feel content, excited and intrigued all at the same time.

Along with the Hot Pot we ordered plum wine which was super strong. Along with the wine the give you a bowl of ice and a bag. You pour the wine on the top of the bag and ladle the wine out when needed. The way they served it wasn’t the most eco-friendly option but was novel nonetheless.

I don’t know how hype my nephew was during the Hot Pot extraveganza, but I was hella hype. It’s basically the most Hanoian thing you can do on a brisk winter night. I was all in.

Hoppin ’round Hanoi

Aside from stuffing our faces on Hot Pot, we really covered some miles in these streets. The thing with Hanoi is that you can discover something new every time you leave the house. I’m really not exaggerating here. Though my nephew is hella hard to read, I know his mind was pretty blown at all the stimuli.

It is really great to see Hanoi from his eyes. I have become jaded of my surroundings and shamefully so because I know I live in one of the most unique cities in the wold. But being with my nephew it puts a whole new spin on things. Our interactions have been incredibly positive in all aspects. Random people have come to speak English to us and wave to us on the street. It is everything I hoped for and more. I do realise that it is shameful I don’t speak VN, at least so I can show off to my guests, n shit. But I feel there will be plenty time for me to learn.

The thing about travelin, shit, the thing about life, is that you have to be willing to try. Try shit you’ve never thought about, known, heard, or experienced. The worst that could happen is that you hate it. So what. This experience is teaching me that one can lose their inhibitions at 31 or 19 and it’s never too late or too early. It’s also teaching me that there is a much bigger silver lining to Hanoi that I need to pay attention to on a daily.

The long awaited day has finally come. After 3.5 long years a family member has come to visit. Not only is it a family member but it is my 18 year old nephew who has never been out of the country. For your first country to be Hanoi, Vietnam takes guts. This is not a starter city, for sure. After the months of planning and anxiety, he had arrived. So, Les Go: The Arrival.

Pre- Landing

I’ve travelled in my day so one would think that I can book some flights. But for some reason I booked a flight where he had to switch airlines during his short 3 hour layover. Shit you not. Any seasoned traveller is rollin their eyes at this mistake. When I say the 3 hour phone call with him as he traversed his way through the Korean airport was hella stressful, this is no joke. I’d rather had back-to-back board meeings than that shit!

Once he was secured on the plane enroute to Vietnam, I decided to take my dog on a little walk. You know, expel some energy, refocus, and prepare for my nephew’s arrival. So, Hanoi is not exactly a green haven. I mean, there ain’t no grass, it’s not a thing. As we were walking (of course I take a different route this time) we find a little patch a grass that doesn’t look particularly inviting but nonetheless my dog rolls in it. No biggie, right? Wrong.

As she gloriously flays her legs in the air, smiling her pitbull smile from ear-to-ear I realise she is starting to look a little dirtier each time she emerges. When she fully emerges from her magnificent small patch grass roll, she emerges covered in human shit. Hu.man. Shit.

First night

I remember when I was 18. I was such a twat. I had all the opinions in the world and prolly thought I was the shit. Well, not my nephew. He is cool as a got damn cucumber. We went out riding for the first time and he was so solid. He had no trepidation about anything and just took everything in stride.

He even ate at a super authentic Pho spot. Like, old family house, back alley, mold on the ceiling type spot.

The amount of peace I get having my kin here is unreal. I already don’t want this time to end yet am anticipating every second of our coming weeks. To think, when I was 18 I was out here being a drunken American and he is out here doing more than the average. Trying new foods, experiences, and fully embracing life; That shit’s inspiring.

Oh, hello! It has been a minute. Actually a few minutes. I’m alive, thanks for checking, ;). Aside from grinding in the office life, I’ve been excitedly awaiting the arrival of my eldest nephew to arrive in Hanoi -got dam- Vietnam!! It’s been a lot of planning, fundraising and pep talks and within the time, life. So, Les Go: The Build Up!

Changes!

As an expat, change is your life. I got used to change real quick once I moved abroad. Your friends and acquaintances are always coming and going. And I guess that goes for expat doggies as well. My two foster pups have become real good friends with my recently departed housemate’s dogs, more like love bugs, like theses two doggers:

As their friendship grew and they romped around the house chewing on each others’ necks I couldn’t help but realize that when they are parted, their little hearts may break. Can dogs have broken hearts? I mean, they’re no Hatchiko but the sentiment is the same.

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All three of them had different relationship dynamics. One set were calm, the next non-stop playing, and the third were rat-watching buddies!

In this lifetime they were a pack of dogs. Maybe in the next lifetime they’ll be a flock of birds or a school of fish together.

Markets!

Within the last few weeks my girlfriend’s ReadAway Library made its debut at the Hanoi Sunday Market! It was so much fun to engage with like-minded readers and talk about books. The word got out to many Hanoians and it was a hit!

As anything in Hanoi, getting there is half the journey (or battle depending on how you look at it).

TIny Concerts

I’m a sucker for the Tiny Desk music series on NPR. I mean, you have no soul if you aren’t. Hanoi has their own version at respectfully one of the coolest joints in town. The Tiny Music Club at Hanoi Social Club really delivers. It really makes me take a step back and appreciate Hanoi for all of the unique creative pockets that one can find.

In the next week I will have my nephew here with my and it is mind blowing! All the things I want to show him and expose him to are endless. I truely hope this will spark his journey into adulthood and sparks a wanderous nature.

In the meantime I’ll be out in these streets, stoppin to smell fried bananas.

An insight into a typical week living abroad.

“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.”

Anthony Bourdain

People think that living abroad is glamorous. I mean, it’s way better than anything I was ever doing back in the States and I see shit every day that blows my mind, but is it glamorous? Girl, no. So, Les Go Live Abroad.

Flash back

Let’s flash back to Spring 2016. I had already graduated with a Masters (regret the amount of loans I have to this day) and no one was hirin a b*tch. I had gone on many interviews, damn near full day inductions and hadn’t gotten a bite from any employers. To top that off, I was coming out of an almost decade-long relationship. So, as any sane person would do, I looked for ways out.

I always had living abroad on my radar. I remember freshly graduating from Uni at 23 and tiptoeing around teaching abroad. But, life happened so I never got around to it. In my despair of 2016 I searched teaching abroad and decided to invest in myself and take the leap.

Current Day

I’m 3+ years strong and living in my third country. I’d like to live in 3 more countries within the soon future but for now my daily life consists of chillin. I have breakfast every morning in my courtyard.

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I stress about job and how to succeed like most people… maybe. I have a normal ass 9-5, Monday – Friday gig like most of my friends back home. Sitting in an office whilst living abroad can actually be exceptionally cruel because you know you didn’t uproot your life and move halfway cross the world for this shit! But then you remember on a given weekend you could go to Thai beaches and everything is ok.

And I try to have a balanced social life. That doesn’t always happen because my girlfriend has an amazing library so I’ll spend 8 hours a weekend reading away.

People always have this perception that an expat’s life must be thrilling and adventurous. But I do some basic, domesticated ass shit just in a different setting. I rearrange my room, hangout with my dogs, and binge watch Netflix for hours.

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The real thing about living as an expat is it’s liberating. I am liberated from my daily culture while immersing myself in another. I am continuously challenged on a daily because I have limited communication ability and I have to traverse through cultural taboos. My mind is always alerted to know things and I feel I become sharper every day. Yes, expat life can be isolating, lonely, and stressful, but I’ll never regret making that leap in 2016.