Saigon, You're Tearing Me Apart

Saigon. You filthy fantastic animal. 

I've been in this wonderful mayhem for 9 days and it's time to get out.

Saigon. It's not me, It's you.

Misadventures

duy-hoang-427480-unsplash.jpg

I took a tumble

three days deep

It's a fine art you know - learning to dodge motorbikes in Nam. They come from left, right, centre and beyond. They fall from the sky, they shoot out of the pavement. They're everywhere.

Anyways, this chaotic climate makes accidents and ailments inevitable. So, this particular tumble took place on a street corner. One of these dubious motorbikes snuck up on me. It nearly skimmed me right in my wobbly ankles. 

Naturally, like a frightened squirrel, I leapt into the air - for safety purposes of course.

The leap itself was pretty graceful; the landing was the pickle.

You see, on this particular street corner happened to be a street vendor. This particular street vendor was accompanied by a particular bucket. This particular bucket was filled with particularly soapy water and particularly dirty dishes.

Say particular one more time? P-a-r-t-i-c-u-l-a-r. 

Out of the good graces of the bucket's heart, it decided to offer me a place to land. My entire right leg, left palm, plus the tips of three or four of my hair extensions were treated to a swell bath.

Soaked and scarred, I scurried off; never to return to said street corner ever again. 

2) It's no coincidence that I chose to mention my hair extensions in the previous story. Foreshadowing at its finest.

It's humid AF in Saigon. I CAN deal with that. I've previously acclimated to humidity. Two christmases ago, I adapted to Brisbane's 40 degree paper-bag-breathing climate. I dealt.

You know who can't deal with that? My hair extensions, allegedly.

39937383_2126300274302948_6931985844609744896_n.jpg

BYE FELICIA

One of them fell out the other day. Which is really sad and unfortunate. 

3) This one is also an aesthetic issue.

However this one is potentially more substantial… not sure. It's pretty fresh so I'm still processing.

My dear friend Josh and I got wasted last night. We raged and boogied alongside approximately 15 very excited Vietnamese folks. To cool down after this lovely experience, we decided to have a swim in my Air BnB. It was approximately 6:30am. The sun had just come up, the scene was serene. Josh, being an instigator, asked for a swim race. Before he could process my response, it was on. My drunken limbs flailed across the pool, leaving him in the dust. "Eat my shorts," I thought to myself. After what felt like a century, I stuck my spinning head out of the water. Multi-tasking, I grabbed a large gulp of air whilst checking my distance from the finish line.

Turns out I had only gone about three feet. Josh was way ahead of me.

I absolutely panicked. 

I should mention at this point that I wear contact lenses. As contact lens wearers know, opening your eyes underwater is never ideal as it can easily dislodge them and make your vision shit. Considering my head was already spinning and I could not see straight, I decided to keep my eyes sealed shut for the completion stage of this competition. 

This time, I was off like a bullet. For real, this time.

So how do you feel for the finish line when your eyes are closed?

You use your face. More specifically your teeth.

I found the god damn finish line by smashing my teeth into the wall. At the time, due to drunkeness, the pain was non-existent.

Josh and I shared a chuckle over my clumsiness. I shook it off and continued my serene swim.

It wasn't until 12 hours later I realized...

fuck.jpg

Hello travel insurance. Plz help. Sincerely me. Goodbye.

SOS.

xx