To Hanoi with love, and a bucket

So, a bit of time has passed now since I left Hanoi, and I can say that there are good things about being back in Sydney. Like, my dog. And the Alfalfa House, and sunshine so bright it laughs at your retinas.

There are other things too, like having a drink given to you without some dude’s extremely long thumbnail having first been submerged in it. I appreciate that. Or being able to access media on the internet, given that for some reason them US copyright-holding fools aren’t as paranoid about Australian “piracy” as they are about Vietnamese self-help actions (biased much? Tell it like it is sister!).

So I think it’s time to book-end this blog. I was thinking about what made my year so incredible. If there was any one thing, it was the people – it was an essentially human experience.

People see each other, and are people to each other. There’s grace, and a humble-making-thankfulness about a life like this that no number of high end minimalist post-modern industrialist espresso machines can beat.

Shower time with mum

Desperate times

Desperate measures

Finally, thanks you guys for sticking with me. I never thought that I’d write more than a maximum of four posts. But, knowing that people were reading this gave me a reason to share, and also deeply appealed to the narcissist in me. Heh.

I’m going to try to keep blogging, but I really, really don’t want to be JAWS (Just Another Whinging Sydneysider). Further, I can’t make any assurances about quality. As the Sage of Sha La La Las said, “the best love songs are written with a broken heart.” (It’s true: karaoke made me a better person.)  Despite the fact that I do have some misgivings about how we live here, it’s just too damned easy right now.

So, we’ll see. To you, and to Hanoi: much much tiny dog love.

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