When I've spoken to many of you, I've discussed how exhausting it is to live here. I've thought about that a little bit more. Ok, a lot more.

First of all, Vietnam is simply more of a sensory stimulus that any other place I've ever lived. Noise of motorbikes, people yelling, people trying to get your attention simply because you look different, and they're curious, even though you really just want to be left alone, and have one moment where you don't feel like some sort of exhibit to be stared at and heckled. Smells of exhaust and frying foods and urine, assaulting your nostrils, and no one else seems to even notice. Constant worry that the sky could open up at any moment and empty itself on you, and you forgot your umbrella and poncho at home, and you don't possess the mysterious sixth sense that the Vietnamese have for knowing when the rain is on its way. Then there's the cars and motorbikes, who stop for nothing and no one, who act as if both the roads and the sidewalks are theirs alone, and what right do you have to be walking on them? Motorists who never look before they merge, or turn a corner, or back out of a driveway, and act as if you, the pedestrian, are the offender. Every day I almost get run over, and I'm the one that ends up feeling guilty about it.

There are other factors such as these, but what is almost harder is the mental and emotional strain that goes along with it. As I was typing the above paragraph, I could feel (and I'm sure the tone is coming across) the resentment rising up within me. And I feel it almost every day, when I'm out in this strange new world, dealing with the sounds and smells and the motorists. Not only do I feel like I'm doing battle with the world here--fighting for my right to walk on the sidewalk, for my right to walk in peace and not be heckled by teenage boys, for my right to pay the same price for things that the Vietnamese do--but I'm also doing battle with myself and my ways of thinking. Because my mind does get invaded by thoughts that are negative and prejudiced and ignorant-sounding, and I judge myself for them. I do catch myself thinking, How can these people act this way? How can they treat me like this? How can they treat themselves like this? How can they drive this way? When I'm tired and I'm irritable and I just can't understand, that's when it's the hardest. Because I don't want to label a whole group of people as stupid--different does not equal stupid, by any means. But sometimes I'm just not up for gaining perspective and embracing this new culture, and instead I just want to shake some of these people and yell at them, "How can you let your children ride on motorbikes, while all the adults are forced to wear helmets?? How is that in ANY WAY logical???"

So it's exhausting. Thinking that I'm bigoted, that I'm racist, that I'm exactly the kind of person that I've always thought I wasn't. And then convincing myself that this isn't true. I just try to keep in mind that this experience, as strenuous as it is right now, is giving me this new perspective. I'm learning about another culture, and I'm learning about myself in the process, which is never easy. It's worth it, but it's never easy.

I'm running out of steam. This moment of musings brought to you by Arielle's exhausting Friday night.

Love.