It’s been two months now since returning home and life seems to fall back into the same pattern as it always has. Nothing is different which is both reassuring and ridiculously boring.
Every day I open my laptop and I’m greeted by my screensaver picture of my favorite face in the world: the little stinky, dirty-faced boy in Sapa who had never seen himself on camera.
I find myself drowning in thought of Vietnam every single day, somewhat wishing sometimes that I was back there. The saying “you don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone” couldn’t be more true. Being there every day was exhausting but now I realize what an amazingly different life they have there, compared with life in the West.
I miss the craziness/repulsiveness/randomness/friendliness of the country we once called home.
