Glad to be Home

Now that I am back in California, I am intensely craving this sandwich:

Photo by Anthony N.

It is a fried chicken sandwich from Bakesale Betty in Temescal. I'm currently transitioning back to the U.S. in Los Angeles, where there is no Bakesale Betty's. But that's okay. When I return to the Bay Area in a few weeks, I will have this sandwich. And it will be very satisfying. I know this to be true.

Production on That's What She Said Season 2 is going well. Got right into it as soon as I got back. We had a shoot at Casa De Luna Coffee House last weekend. The owners are wonderful and have been supporters since Season 1. Hard to believe that it's been four years since I first set foot inside that cafe, soon after it opened in 2009. 

These ladies make Los Angeles home.

Spring seems to be arriving already. Warm in the sun, cool in the shade. Makes it hard to think of leaving LA.

The Ho Chi Minh City Excursion // Dayshots

The week before Tet, I went to Ho Chi Minh City. I went mostly to see my friend David, but also to spend some time by myself, without family nearby for the first time in weeks and weeks. 

I rode the Mekong Express bus to get there. Hopped out as we crossed the Mekong River.

The Mekong.

I wonder what the river will be like after the mega-dam is built.

We had a dusty stop just before crossing the border on National Road 1.

Exchanged USD into VND and became a millionaire.

Most countries' money is prettier than the USD.

Com tam is my favorite.

David had a snazzy, fixed up Honda Super Cub. Saigon is lovely to ride around in at night. Unlike in Cambodia where only the driver has to wear a helmet, passengers also have to wear them in Vietnam. You can see both helmets dangling at David's knee.

I splurged and stayed at Song Anh Hotel, right in downtown. Traveling alone, and feeling very soft from so long in the cozy embrace of my family, I decided to forgo the backpacker area.

The hotel employees thought I was weird for taking stairs instead of the elevator to my 5th floor room.

Saw this on my last day. But heard it over and over again throughout my trip.

Mostly, I roamed around the city on foot, drinking papaya smoothies, munching on street snacks, and sitting in the shade in the many lovely parks in the city. The French colonial influence is much more apparent in HCMC than in Phnom Penh. I felt like I was in the Paris of Southeast Asia.

General Post Office designed by Gustave Eiffel.

It was so different than being in Phnom Penh; though traffic was still quite congested, the streets were not as dusty, and I wasn't worried about hygiene at the streetside food stands. Though, I was not so concerned in Phnom Penh, either. Within month two of my stay, I was drinking the tap water at my aunt's house and having ice in beverages with abandon. I figured I'd acclimated enough at that point, and I was tired of boiling the water; I figured most of the harm would come from chemicals moreso than bacteria, and boiling would just concentrate them. That logic might be flawed. Another part of it was being tired of the stream of plastic water bottles that kept coming my way. And whether it makes sense or not, it made me feel closer to Cambodia to drink the water. There are people drinking out of muddy streams and wells with arsenic in the water. I figured I could handle the municipal tap. And I'm okay (not that I'm recommending others to so). 

One of my favorite parts of the trip was sitting by the Saigon River sipping coffee with David on my second night. We talked about Los Angeles, and what it's like to move from one town to another, and how Southeast Asia is quickly adopting the hurried pace of Western civilization. It seems that people don't really make time for one another-- spending time together is just a part of life. But now there are gated communities popping up, and the nuclear-family-based culture is increasingly taking hold, and I think about how lucky I was to grow up in a multi-generational home, without any distinction between "family" and "extended family."

I'm rambling. I'm sitting in a cafe in Little Saigon. It feels good to be home. So many things to do. So many places still to go. I have a loose timeline. I have a little cash. I have a lot of loved ones. I feel lucky.

Dispatch from Cambodia, 11 // The End is Near

Three nights left in Cambodia. I'm starting to feel a bit anxious about going home. 
These last three months have been a retreat from my generally unpredictable everyday life. Hang out with family. Read a lot of books. Scribble in my journal. Spend a lot of time in coffee shops. Look at Tumblr a lot. I've kept things simple to the point where most people might get terribly bored, but I'm happy as long as I have books to read and time to write.

What most mornings look like.

All the while, though, I've been thinking about what I'll do with myself when I get back. So perhaps I have not been as present with my experience here as I could have been. A part of that was due to worrying about being a tourist here or gravitating into the largely-white expat scene. I worked some of that out in the last few weeks. I didn't do everything I considered doing here, like go on climbing trips or volunteer or work or check out the arts scene, but other things happened that I hadn't considered: I started learning to read and write Khmer, had long talks with family members, had some good email exchanges, and remembered how much I like listening to music obsessively (especially while writing poetry).

Khmer consonants. I almost remember them all.

I got to experience two New Years in Cambodia: the Western one and the Lunar New Year. My relatives have been urging me to stay and ring in the Khmer new year, too, in April. I was tempted, but there's too much waiting for me (too much that I'm looking forward to) in California. 

Lunar New Year promo from Brown, where I've spent a lot of time recently.

I have a fluttery feeling about going home. Moreso than I did when I was getting ready to leave.

I remind myself that it will be good. It will be good to spend 22 hours in transit, and step out of the airport into the cool Los Angeles air. It will be good to remember how to drive my car. It will be good to see the people I've been missing. It will be good to move forward on some of the things I've been marinating on during the last three months of being sort of a hermit/recluse. It will be good to be reunited with my coffee grinder and french press. It will be good to step out of this relaxed life, and back into the lovely chaos.

Spring is coming.

(I read four of the Game of Thrones books in January. Yup.)