It’s been a long time since I've written for my blog, and now it seems that I have all the time in the world to recall my journey in life for the past 8 months. I've struggled to be consistent in writing and keeping my creative juices flowing due to the following reasons - writer’s block, losing the confidence to write in English language or just being caught up in the moment of travel, as you can see in the huge time gaps between my posts. But let me announce that this is my very first post for this year, hooray!
I bought a new ukulele in Malaysia before I flew to Vietnam, signifying the beginning of a new journey. I was four months in Vietnam with varying and colorful experiences. I never knew the reason I have to fly to Vietnam and continue my journey, all I knew that time was that something was waiting for me there.
At 30, I still had no idea what to do in life. I went on this journey in hopes of figuring out what I want to do. I just go with the flow and let things unfold right before my eyes.
Hitchhiking and sleeping everywhere, I was back on the road again. And I realized that this was the end of my tramping, at least in this journey. Everything happens for a reason, and I always have no idea at the beginning. And afterwards, I found myself knowing why things happened.
My first day in Vietnam was not so exciting. I was confused and helpless, with no direction at all. I found myself staying one more night in Vung tau beach, the closest beach to Ho Chi Minh City. I was supposed to stay in Ho Chi Minh City for a night, but my Vietnamese host cancelled right there and then. So I went straight to the beach, because this is the only place here where I can camp to save on accommodation costs. It was my third month on the road, traveled from Indonesia, Malaysia to Vietnam, a long slow travel and a long way to go.
I was not able to find a host and I found myself having to spend another night on the beach. I decided to delay my hitchhiking to Mui ne as it was really late in the afternoon, and it looks like Vietnam is not a perfect place for hitchhiking. People are not so friendly and communication is a big problem as most people cannot speak and understand English.
Crashing resort pools like I used to do in Bali, I did it once again in Vietnam. I felt like I was the only traveler in this small town, until I saw this man eating at the resort’s restaurant, a tourist I thought. And probably the only one in this town. At least someone was traveling in this part of Vietnam which is only popular among locals. I dropped my stuff in this resort and I went for a swim.
The salty air and the unlit beach stretch caught me. I was sitting in front of a one beach club I discovered, a perfect place for camping where I wouldn't be bothered. Feeling satisfied for whatever reason, happily listening to the crashing of the waves, I caught a glimpse of the same man from the resort next to this beach club. This made me curious more and more, what could he be doing here? I heard a faint conversation, I shrugged and let go of this curiosity until I saw him looking in my direction. I waited.
I turned around and he sat beside me. And of all places, he is from Russia. After all my experiences and stories about the Russian people, they are the last ones on earth I want to deal with. But being alone in this strange and unfriendly place, a friendly conversation would help. I was not looking for anything more, no friendship or whatever. Just a nice little human interaction before I hitchhike to Mui ne the next day.
I was completely untrusting, not believing that a man could really help without wanting anything in return. But all the strange circumstances eventually lead me to this man, no matter how hard I controlled my feelings, avoiding any more drama after that one in Bali.
Exchange of stories illuminated everything, as to why I was spending a night on the beach and why this Russian man was astonishingly staying in Vietnam for the past 7 months. I sang him this popular song with my ukulele just as what I've been doing to the strangers I met, to keep both sides entertained, to give something back in exchange for a warm conversation. It just was one night of knowing each other’s life, a one long conversation of broken English. He would become again one of those people I've met on the road, whom I had a nice conversation with and a friendship for only a certain period. And then I thought, I would eventually move on, and we were all just passing through.
My mosquito man, a superhero we made up after being eaten alive by mosquitoes, the rooftop of a small seemingly abandoned building nearby became our safe refuge, from rats, mosquitoes and Vietnamese men. That was also after discovering that my tent was broken (series of unfortunate events) I was tired and sleepless, and the rooftop floor with some small cushions we brought from the beach club became a luxury for me. I slept soundly for a few hours aware of being watched. The dawn is breaking. . . I witnessed the sun rising from the sea symbolizing a new beginning.
Good morning Vietnam, day 2!
Mui ne was delayed days and days after, due to strangely unforeseen circumstances such as, my broken tent, the death of my underwater camera and an attempt to resurrect it by having a small trip with Mosquito man to Saigon. Several days after I was still unattached, emotionally and physically as I was fighting hard not to get into some kind of relationship, but days went on and reasons unfolded. This was not another relationship. This was one thing that found me. I let go and I gave myself a chance.
My travel route was changed for good, it lead me to a new destination called LOVE, my mosquito man, my now love, whom I met at the strangest moment of my life.
0 comments :