Not a photos kind of day.
I felt that I needed some time to digest parts of my trip. I even told Heinz I wasn't so sure I was going to write something about Vietnam because I felt I didn't have the right -or not enough- words to express how hard I fell in love with this gorgeous country.
But as the days have passed I feel that now I'm ready to talk, I even want to!
After spending a few days in Hong Kong, where the main reason to stop over was to visit a very dear friend of mine, our next stop was Vietnam.
I did all the research that I needed to do before I came -read- I watched every single Anthony Bourdain episode on Vietnam. Seriously there's no need to buy a Lonely Planet for this one, THE man says it all on his show. What to do, where to eat and oh yes, where to eat.
Even though he is undoubtedly and openly in love with Vietnam, for some reason I wasn't expecting much aside from the food. When searching for accommodations I read online a few stories of how people were hassled and/or overcharged while in Vietnam and given that I obviously don't speak the language and Heinz's features are, well, German (as a side note people have a hard time guessing where I'm from) I was expecting to be poorly treated, knowing that we could be easy target.
Oh I was so, sooooooooooo wrong. Never, not once, not.a.single.time did we feel mistreated, ripped off or badly treated in general.
If you look online there are several blogs and forums that address different travelers experiences in Vietnam. Some are good and some are not so good but this is the way I see it:
Every time a blogger, travel journalist or the very man himself -Anthony Bourdain- writes about a destination people have to put it into perspective. Instead of looking at their travel stories as an endorsement or travel guide for a certain city I think people should see them as well, that...a story. A story where they talk about their experience not about the destination. Even if they highlight or recommend a few places to eat, a few things to do....it doesn't guarantee that if you go you'll have the same "good" experience.
That could be my tip of the day: How not to read a travel guide (even this one) (not that this is one though) (can I use brackets on brackets?) (I don't think I can)
After that little sidetrack we can now go back to Vietnam.
Our first stop was Hanoi, Ha long bay included. Then we moved south to Hoi An and our final stop was Saigon. I refuse don´t like to call it Ho Chi Minh city but that's a whole different post.
We like to stay at guesthouses when available, not hostels but not hotels per se either. I´d rather stay at family run accommodations and that is because I feel that 1. I'd rather have my money go to them because I think, maybe naively, that I'm helping local entrepreneurs thus local development and 2. It makes me feel more at home and less like a tourist. A little bit as if I was staying at my aunt and uncle's place.
We were in Vietnam only for a week, we had more destinations to cover and thank God we had a departing ticket because I was ready to stay, forever.
There are several reasons for that.
First the food. It's no secret that I love food but Heinz, not him. He eats because it's on his to-do list, one more thing to cross out of his agenda, nothing to give it any more thought that it needs to and he could perfectly (and has done so) eat the same thing for days.
A good touristy day for him is taking pictures of cool, new things. A good day for me is taking pictures of cool, new food.
Even though it wasn't his idea of fun to make this a culinary trip I guess after noticing all my research on what to do, where to go was food oriented he decided to leave the eating agenda to me. I, following my own advice on how not to read a travel guide, didn't want to go somewhere in particular - except the Lunch Lady- I -proudly getting my Anthony Bourdain on- wanted to be surprised by the food my favorite -eh host?- absolutely loves. I just wanted to eat anything, anywhere as long as it was on the street.
On our first night in Hanoi our debit/credit cards were blocked so we were left with only 6USD which by mere luck had been changed into Dongs. My friend who lives in Hong Kong, her husband is a pilot and he flies into Vietnam. He changed our last Hong Kong currency into Vietnam Dongs.
We thought we weren't going to eat that night. We were saving our last cash for, I don't know, getting a flight back home? As we wandered the streets and weighed our cardless options we saw little plastic chairs next to little plastic tables -I'm talking children size here- perfectly placed one after another on the sidewalks.
I'm going to ask how much that is - I told Heinz - as I pointed to a salad looking plate.
For a moment I hesitated on what language to use. As I was asking myself whether to speak in Spanish or English I heard the command: sit, sit.
English it is then.
After realizing we would have change after our dinner we ordered two "of that" (Insert pointing finger here)
I could hear it in Heinz's silence. Was that the sound of him actually savoring his food?
And then the sentence that said it all: "what is this? this is delicious"
Oh, yes. We'd won him over. That was his first step towards joining us, the proud group of people who'd rather eat than sleep. The people who ask what are we going to eat for lunch while we are having breakfast.
I can even say that there was a kind of toast to celebrate Heinz's conversion that night. The cooker's husband shared some of his drink with us. He gave us a little zip of what he was drinking. First him, then Heinz and finally me. He sealed our initiation ritual with a laugh after I realized that I had just drank some serious hard core liquor.
And that was only our first night.
Then there was the coffee, the amazing people and the beautiful landscapes.
But I love Vietnam for the most selfish reason there could ever be. I love Vietnam for the way it made me feel. I love Vietnam because it made me feel beautiful. I love Vietnam because it made me feel loved.
As embarrassing as it can be for a yoga teacher to admit my heart, I have to confess, is my less flexible muscle. Butsomething changed while I was in Vietnam. My heart expanded, it grew bigger.
I was heartbroken to leave but I was leaving with a bigger heart. Some16,404 Km / 10,193 Miles bigger to be exact. The distance between Vietnam and El Salvador to be precise.
Aaaaaand even though I said it wasn't a photos kind of day I'm throwing in a few just because you've endure such a long post -if you're still here that is- .
