Coconut Coffee Chaos

Coconut coffee and the start to a beautiful day. There have been two spurts of storms this morning and now there is a warm breeze perpetuated by the whirlpool of motorbikes through the city.

It is strange. I am in a café, with architecture foreign to me. It has an unassuming entrance with spiraling stairs up to a lounge.  Paint is peeling, wallpaper sweating, frayed edges on the corners of the pillows in this lounge give a hint of the country I'm in, and yet the concept of this lounge seems very Western.  Bruno Mars plays from their speakers as I sit next to a luxurious fan.  I feel guilt in indulging in the familiar, but gratitude for the resolve as I peer out onto the tumultuous Hanoi Old Quarters. 

It reminds me of Chinatown in Los Angeles, or the garment district downtown.  Shops lined up shoulder to shoulder, with trinkets and knickknacks spilling from their awnings.  People are constantly in motion as others work patiently at the entrance to their shops. 

I feel like a tourist. I am a tourist. In France I could pretend to be French. Here I am definitely a minority. I don't mind standing out, I respect that I am in some else's home. I just wish I weren't as much of a cliché.  The cost here is very comfortable when converted to USD.  My fancy coffee comes out to $2 and I have a feeling that it is rather indulgent. I would be easy for me to shop lushly, and I almost feel guilt in not contributing to their economy when I so easily can.  That's not what I want, however.  I wish to discover the habits and lifestyle of a native. To wear a cloak of invisibility as I experience life in another's shoes. 

If I wanted luxury I would've booked a spa day instead of a plane ticket. 

I will attempt. In the meantime I sip my coconut coffee, a nectar of caffeine and bravery, and prepare to dive once again into waves this sea-ty.  (The pun was there, I had to take it)

 

 

 

 

Staying Positive

It's been really hard to reintegrate myself into the real world. As happy as I am to be here, it's been hard to adapt back to the hustle and bustle of busy people with busy lives, when I'm still dizzy and weak and having weighed this little since middle school.... (Not even touching on the stress of having to move)

BUT. I did manage to have a lovely moment today. I was alone at a Coffee Bean, taking in the sounds of the busy world, when a man in an automated wheelchair accidentally knocked over his drink.  He immediately started apologizing, as they had to come mop up the drink and make him another. 

Personally, I'm still very weak and know that if I were to knock something over, I can't bend down to pick it up.  And asking for help in those moments just sucks. 

So I turned to the man with a forgiving smile and said "eh, it happens. I was just in the hospital and am still pretty dizzy, so I'll end up doing that like three times today.  So you've set the expectation for me and now I don't have to worry. Thank you :) Plus they're very sweet and don't mind."

He smiled for the first time since the spill and thanked me. He asked what happened that sent me to the hospital and how long I was in for. I gave him a little synopsis that allowed him to know that I could empathize, and he related to me on how long of a stay that is. 

We were complete strangers, and yet somehow this coffee spill let both of us feel more connected to each other, as well as more "allowed" in this world with people that function at a difference pace.

It was a serendipitously lovely movement.  So I'll consider that today's victory.