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welcome to my travels + thoughts

an accident in dalat

an accident in dalat

I wasn’t scared, but only because I forced myself not to look down. I leaned back from the edge, and began rappelling down the 65 meter waterfall. A few minutes in, my foot slipped and I slammed my shin against the rocks. I spent the next ten minutes making my descent with blood gushing from a bone-white gash. I reached the bottom, posed for a photo, and limped over to the guide, who patched up my leg. I hiked back up the mountain to get to the Jeep, my white bandages turning pink with blood.

Do I sound like a badass? I’ll be the first to tell you that I am not tough. I cried when the guide poured iodine on my fresh wound. I was too scared to change my own bandages, so I made my friend do it - then I cried because the gash looked so terrifying. When I finally got to a doctor after a five-hour bus journey to my next city, I whimpered to him that I was scared. He touched my arm and promised it would only be a little pain. I got stitches for the first time ever at a small clinic in a Vietnamese beach town.

It’s almost comical how everything bad can happen at once - getting sick, getting robbed, getting stitches from an unlucky accident. A couple weeks ago I remarked to my friend that I can’t remember the last time I cried. The tears have come these past few days, because sometimes it takes a good cry to feel better.

People think crying is a sign of weakness, when from birth, it‘s the first sign that we’re strong and alive.

While traveling Southeast Asia during monsoon season, I’ve learned literally that when it rains, it pours. I’ve been drenched on motorbikes, at temples, in markets, and on hikes. But often the storm lasts for just an hour before the sun emerges again. Sometimes all you can do is dredge through the rain, and then leave your sneakers out to dry. I already feel the rays of warmth from amazing friends and family who’ve reached out to make sure I’m okay. I’m learning what it means to survive and thrive in strange new places halfway across the world. If everything was easy, this wouldn’t be an adventure.

stuck in saigon

stuck in saigon

two men on a motorbike drove up next to me, snatched my backpack from my bicycle basket, and sped away.