Sanctuary

My cross country trip begins at 4 am on the 8th of December. The city of Saigon (now changed to Ho Chi Minh City) was softly rustling at this time. I could see shop owners slowly emerging from their swift slumber to start another hectic day.

There is an eeriness that is evoked from the streets. 

The flowers in my neighbor's entryway were tightly blanketed by the vines that surrounded them and the creatures of the night roamed about freely, not afraid of the wrath of their benefactors.

I'm standing on the corner of a usually busy street completely in silence.  Within minutes, I was flashed downed by the car that would escort me to the northern city of Hanoi. 

As soon as I entered the vehicle, I became enveloped in shroud of sleep. Jet lag finally kicked in and before I knew it, I awoke with the sunlight kissing my face. We had stopped for a quick lunch break.

The smell of the sea brushed across my nose and suddenly I became calm and refreshed. We were on the edge of Cam Ranh, a local beach town. You instantly knew that this was not a tourist stop, but rather a common hang out for the local travelers. The scenery was very "asian Gilligan's Island". I didn't know where I was, but this was such a beautiful uncertainty. There were palm trees swinging in the distance with crafty hammocks tied tightly around their legs and white sand that glimmered from the sea water. This was not the Vietnam that I was familiar with but rather a conscious dream that I didn't want to wake up from. 

In this moment, I felt like anything could be achieved if I said it out loud. 

Ballet dancer? Done. 

Guerilla-style nature photographer? Easy-peasy. 

International Singer? Do you have to ask? 

It was like living in a world of blissful stasis. 

With love, 

[mr. white elephant]