Close to home

My friend was hit by a car on the weekend. She's not in great shape, but she will be all fixed up eventually. It just brings back memories - for some reason. Seeing her in the hospital bed, doped up to the eyeballs on morphine and unable to move - well, it made me cry for her, and it made me remember so many things I had forgotten about my own accident. Those feelings of helplessness, pain, uncertainty...the list goes on. And I did it in a country where I had no family, few real friends and not a whole lot of support from the health system.
I survived a motorbike crash 12 hours from a major city. I survived going under general anaesthetic with only one working machine in the operating room - and even that left me with wounds that had not been fixed and continued to bleed for another 24 hours in the humidity. I survived a 12 hour trip in a van on bumpy roads without as much as a splint to keep the broken bit together. And then I survived traction, a few more operations and a 3 week stay in a hospital in Hanoi.
After hospital, I was housebound for a couple of months - fearing going out because there wasnt much in the way of 'disabled access'. I remember going to the cinema one time - people everywhere who seemed to completely overlook the huge bandaged leg and crutches as they dashed around in the foyer. At one point I stood in one spot and balled from feeling so vulnerable. I guess that is how I felt the entire time during my recovery, but I was that stubborn I refused to come home and recover in peace with my family.
Then I had to have re-operations at home to fix the first lot. The whole drama seemed to be neverending. But it did end, and now I am a much stronger person for it.
But I have never really acknowledged how hard that whole time really was. Or how it left me emotionally. Or how it brought a dying relationship back to life, but then helped destroy it in the end. ALL of it broke me, but then built me up again into an incredibly independent person, who knows I have what it takes to get through various things life wants to throw at me.

Now, my friend has her own journey ahead, and although I dont know how, I hope I can help her. I think it is important for her to know that she can cry as much as she wants to. Emotional strength will come, but not by force.

All packed up but no-where to go

I leave tomorrow for a trip - not a holiday as such, but because I have to get out of my house while they do some work on it. I have been packing everything up for a month, and wish that all the time and effort was contributing to a trip overseas or something. But, alas, I am going to a backward little town in NSW instead.
Well...it's not really that little I suppose. Quite a few thousand people live in the area. But the attitude of many of the people there make it seem 'small'. It has many racial issues between whites and Aborigines, very little cultural diversity - or any other kind of diversity for that matter!
'
Diversity' there is represented by few Chinese restaurants with the typical 'Honey King Prawn' or 'Beef in Black Bean sauce' type of dishes. Yum Cha? Chicken's feet? Hell no! I dont know of an Indian restaurant within 50 kms, but there is 'the' Lebanese family who own the deli and a couple of other shops that have been in the family for decades. Multiculturalism at its best. Oh, there IS a Vietnamese woman working at one of the restaurants, but of course she is known as "Chinese", because apparently that is what 'Asian' people are.

As for the racial tension between the indigenous folk and the white folk, that is through the roof. It's kind of like something bubbling under the surface, ready to explode at the right moment. Very sad that it's come to that - for everyone.

To be honest, I hate the place. I get mixed feelings as I am driving into it - firstly a deflated feeling - like the disappointment of arriving at your final destination to find it's not what you had hoped for - a feeling I never fail to experience, but still seem to be surprised by it.
Secondly, a feeling of coming home to people I love, because that is why I go there. You see, I grew up there and those who are dear to me still live there. It's a very strange combination of feelings, and I experience them all in the split second it takes to drive past the "Welcome to..." sign.

A sign of love and hate.

The mist clears

Been a tad manic here. Boring but manic stuff which I really dont want to have to deal with, but such is life. Even if I dont find the time to write my own blog, I always find time to read others. I am keeping up with a few blogs written by expats in VN. I enjoy seeing what other people write about their time in VN, and I find many little things trigger memories of my own time there..

Just now I was reading about someone's trip to Sa Pa. Although I have read quite a few posts about Sa Pa in various blogs, this time I actually remembered something I felt when I was there. It has nothing to do with the town itself, or even VN for that matter, so I wont be describing mist on the mountains or dye-stained hands!

The memory I have is of 'freedom'. I had been to Sa Pa before, but this trip I went as a 'single' amongst couples. It was the first trip I had been on in VN as a 'single' actually, and it was the first time since becoming a single that I felt a sense of contentment.

I remember as I walked up the hill towards the markets, I suddenly (and finally) felt that I was in control of my own destiny, and although I was alone, I wasnt lonely. I felt my senses awaken, and I knew I could gain as much, if not more, from my experience of exploring Sapa on my own, as what I would having someone by my side. Not that I am saying having someone to share your journey isnt a wonderful experience -because it is. But there are times when some journeys need to be made alone.

For me that was one of those times, and remembering that journey reminds me that when you least expect it, one chapter closes and another one opens.

Chilled Blood with Nuts

I have many memories of Vietnam. So so many. One of the stand out memories is a simple one, but exemplifies the kind of unique experience one can have over there. It was a small part of my 'going away' party - which was amazing in iteslf, but I wont go on with all of it here..
After last drinks at one of the usual hangs in the old quarter, myself and my usual partner in crime were on our way somewhere.. and although the 'where' is important, it also requires its own story and lengthy prelude, and in all honesty, it was the journey to find this place that was special.

Firstly, as many people in VN know, drink-driving is not unusual. Whilst I did not drink drive, or drive period, I often found myself on the back of a bike with someone who had been drinking. This is a stupid stupid thing that I did, something I wouldnt even dream of doing at home. But I was not alone in my feeling of invincibility - there must have been something in the water (or the beer..)

So off we go on the bike, across a bridge that bikes were not allowed on. Somehow, in our logic to reach our destination that was somewhere at the other end of the bridge, we ended up on a country road that appeared to be endless. With the typical sentiment of the lost, we just assumed that 'there's gotta be a turn-off', instead of just going back the way we came.
On this loop we were, and decided to stop off after what seemed like a helluva long way into the countryside. The little roadside cafe sold the usual stuff, so we ordered a couple of bia hoi's and a bowl of pho each. We got the beer alright, but instead of pho we ended up with ah..goose (?)blood sprinkled with nuts. Just the thing you want at 6am after a heavy night on the town. Dont get me wrong - I was open to trying many a dish in VN, but chilled blood was not one of them.

So faced with this blood, in our ridiculous logic we decided that rather than offend the lady, I would pretend I was sick and that we had to go (after we finished our beers of course.)
Our acting was pitiful, and our explanations in tieng Viet probably worse, but the lady was so concerned that we actually felt SO SO bad, but it was way too late to go back on our plan.
I was offered a bed out the back to rest and all sorts. And when we did actually manage to leave after much protesting from the lady (obviously someone in my condition should not be travelling..), I had my head wrapped in a plastic bag as it was starting to lightly rain, and the woman was fearful I would catch a cold.

It was one of those times I felt a sense of belonging, and anything but alone, even though we were lost in some foreign countryside. Whilst we both mused we could have handled the situation better i.e. we could have just politely declined the bowl of blood and she probably wouldnt have cared anyway, I realised that without the 'performance' we would have missed out on a wonderful memory.

I would love to go back and visit the country roadside cafe, if I could ever find it. Not only to see the lovely lady, but also to experience the bathroom, where the only thing between myself and three huge curious pigs was a small cement barrier. Imagine what those pigs have seen..

I guess this simple experience was special because the night had come full circle and ended by reminding me that I had indeed overcome my fears of the unknown...except chilled blood with nuts.

Filling it up

Man, I am on a roll with these blogs at the moment. It must be because I am on holidays from uni. However, there is no such thing as a holiday with a baby. So really, I just have less work to do at the moment.

Some people may think that I sound horrible referring to my baby as 'work'. I couldnt give a rat's bottom really. I love my baby to bits, but anyone who says that a baby isnt hard work has rocks in their head - either that or a nanny - or some really good secrets that I want to know about!

So, with this extra time I have I plan on making myself a happy person. I am going to work out what it is that make happy people happy. Is it the simple things in life, or money, or a job, or a nice house, or a dog..or what?? I really want to know.

Once I have this information, I will probably decide that whatever it is wont work for me anyway, then start back at square one. You see, I have this big problem in that my glass is always half empty. Well, now I do anyway, and I am sure at various points in my life that has been my general way.

But now it's time to change. I want a half full glass, and I want to be happy with the here and now, rather than my past that seems surreal and detached from me, or my future that feels like it's full of impossible dreams.

Cheers to my quest to get my glass half full.

organised Chaos

Between the hours of 3.30pm and 8.30pm, I do not stop. I have 2 things going on at the one time, and at least another 2 things in my head waiting to be put into action. And these are only immediate things - not all those itty bitty annoying things I was supposed to have done a week ago.
That's ok I guess. I have always been well organised, and this is just a different kind of challenge: organising with constant interruptions and a certain little person unorganising everything straight after me.
I might look into going to Laos. I am not sure if I could live there, but I hear it's so relaxed, and that appeals to me, now more than ever. Maybe when I get back to that region I will at least visit for a month or so - just to unwind.
Actually, thinking about it, I am less game to live overseas in a country that I am unfamiliar with now. Now that there is a child involved anyway. A country with similar culture etc to mine would be no problem, but the unknown seems a little overwhelming with a child.
Therein lies the problem. I want to experience different cultures, otherwise what would be the point?

Away

Sitting here thinking about Vietnam. It never leaves your system really. I will return one day. I have to or I will get old and regret not going back. And who wants regrets?