Vietnam continued

Before Da Lat, there was a pit stop about an hour or two outside of it at the Dahm'ri waterfalls. Now that was one of the most indescribable views that was so difficult to even portray the beauty onto the screen of my camera. This lush, thriving waterfall surrounded by the greenest of greens and supreme natural atmosphere made me feel that the there was be so much to be preserved if only we tried hard enough.

And then there was Da Lat. Da Lat was this mesmerizing little city surrounded completely by tall, looming trees, mountains, and a lake. At night, especially, the city collided with me, making it this reality with lights tangled throughout it and all its hyperactive inhabitants dispersed to the corners and then concentrated in other spots. It reminded me of Chihiro's world from the animated film, Spirited Away. it was this magical enclave separated from the rest of the world. But probably not for much longer...

Da Lat had this furious wind that raged on angrily most nights like a bulldozer trying to break down the walls of an old stone building; it always got in. We spent the longest here exploring the gardens, restaurants, shops, fields, etcetera. We went to this place called the Field of Dreams with all these statues of animals and dream-like castles. One day, we took a tour of the former king's summer house for him and his family, and it got me thinking that there was something about the monarchy system, medieval courts, etcetera that was truly phenomenal and I would've liked to have lived it.

Up next was Nha Trang, a staggeringly gorgeous coastal town with so much action just exploding through the town. There was something about Nha Trang that was so visually and emotionally engaging. The single sight at the beach across the waters, alone, is one every American will have never glanced before. The breeze, the waves, the moisture, the tourists, the natives.... I felt something visceral here. And the drive here felt like an adventure in itself. It was some of the most rockiest, windiest, mistiest roads I had ever ridden through. Danger leered at you from every apparent angle. And then, you arrive to paradise.

The day after a night of amazing seafood and epic walks along the beach eating fresh squid fried up right in front of you on the beach was another unraveling escapade. Vinpearl, an island only accessible through a cable box strung above the waters or by boat, was this private resort that would make any tourists' mouths water. We took the route by cable box. The resort was absolutely wonderful, aside from the momentary annoyances with the older members for their tortoise pace, luddite eyes, and lack of communication. The sights here were to die for, unlike anything I've ever set my brown eyes on. There was this little man-made river on the waterpark at the resort at it was called song luoi, which means "lazy river". I floated down it while reading my book for over an hour, almost felt like I was Huckleberry Finn, just a young vagabond with nothing but adventures to worry about. After a day of the beach, waterpark, the best aquarium I've been in, a musical water symphony, and dinner, I finally retired for the night. I am putting my fingers to the keyboard right now and swearing that I will come back to Nha Trang before this town is submerged under salt water. (It supposedly will if the sea level keeps increasing the pace that it is.)

I took a final walk down to the beach by myself on the day we left Nha Trang and I felt scared that this was the last time I'd see this beach before reassuring myself that I can't let absurd thoughts like that fill my head. It was a concept too farfetch'd for me to ever let happen. I'll come back.

One last stop in Mien Tay where we took a boat to this island where this man used to live with eight other wives who were never allowed to leave the island. And he only ate coconut and drank coconut milk. After that, we went hunting for fruit which led us the house of these women. Going down the trails that led to their home, it really put the economic gaps in perspective for me. Literally, worlds apart. Fortune truly is as elusive as it seems.

My last night I went to the graves of my grandparents for the very first time. Oddly enough, the graveyard at night didn't scare me at all. It was really warm.

And after endless hours of plane rides, layovers, a day tour of Seoul, Korea, and more hours on a plane. I made it home to Orange County for five nights before leaving to Aarhus, Denmark for five months. I learned more than I could have expected in Vietnam, about the country, the people, my parents...myself. I took from this as much as I could and am wholly prepared and look forward to meeting Vietnam again very soon. I think about it all the time.