I have finally gone through the ritual act of adding all of my letters to a blog. I feel slightly embarrassed to have a blog at all, I feel like I should be sitting in a coffee shop in Seattle dreaming of how wonderful being creative makes me feel. To be honest, I don't know why I've converted to a blog, I still think I prefer to send these things to people directly, but I understand that people may not want them, so perhaps it is better that I just provide a forum for people to hear what I have to say, and let you all make your own choice if you want to hear it. In the end, I am happy just to write it, as it will, at the very least, help me remember it, no mater what "it" is.
Vietnam is a funny place, every foreigner I have met here both loves and hates it. We foreigners are not fair to Vietnam, we spend most of our time together complaining about the aggravations of dealing with such an underdeveloped society and country. The restaurants are slow, people here look at us like we are nothing more than walking money bags, the power goes out all the time, it's hot as hell, and humid to boot. Vietnam's pitfalls are our favorite topic, because it is the only thing that we all share in common. Yet, no matter how much we complain about it, none of us seem to be able to leave. We go home for a vacation and can't wait to get back to the dirty streets and death defying traffic. In other parts of the world we are not special, we are not important, we have no real affect on anything. Here, we are movers and shakers, we give speeches to the National Assembly and get drunk with ambassadors. I don't think any of us can accurately describe why this hypocrytical dynamic exists, but the truth is, many of us would be lost without Vietnam.
While going through the process of posting all of my past letters on this site, I had the opportunity to read them all. Oddly, I find that, as they read in chronological order, it seems like the longer I stay here the less positive I write about this place. Sadness and satire saturate some of my most significant submissions, seemingly saying that such sorrow and silliness seeps through the spores of my soul and seeks to seduce me into spirals of sinful, solitary insanity.
So, I find that as I read my past letters I am angry at myself for portraying this place somehow inaccurately. The truth is I have had opportunities here that I could never have had anywhere else, I have met people here that have shaken me to my core, and everything about this place has challenged every principle I have, demanding that I doubt even my most basic beliefs. This process, while both difficult and demanding, has not turned me into something I am not, it has laid bare for the world that which I can not conceal, both my weaknesses and my strengths. I no longer feel that my confidence in anything is of such paramount import, I am no longer worried about what I will do with my life, or what life will do with me. Come what may, I will do my best, and that will be good enough.
Until next time...
Love,
1 comment:
see? subconsciously you know Seattle is awesome.
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