Home Sweet Home

I know it has been awhile since I have been on to post. It is my hope that in the coming months and as things settle down as I am getting used to the real world again I can post some pictures and write up the other million stories I have. As much as I say my life as been back to normal I can not say that and mean. In the past weeks I got to experience TomorrowWorld for the second time, meet up with a lovely Aussie I met in Thailand, purchase a hot tub, and create a jungle of a classroom! I am looking forward to updating everyone and especially to start creating articles for future backpackers!!

In for the kill!

A super typhoon was approaching northern Vietnam so we decided to stay in Phong Nha which allowed us to still so the HangEn cave.

I adored Phong Nha. It was one of the most beautiful natural places I've seen in my life. Nothing can compare to the gigantic rock formations jutting out of the ground.

We visited TE dark cave which was awesome. You take kayaks from one side to get to the cave. When you get out its a short walk into the cave that gets darker and darker. Once you ditch your life jackets you proceed through dark tunnels with only your headlamps and hard hats. Slowly and bit by bit the mud gets her. Starting just at your toes by the time you reach a kilometer in the mud it put o your waist. It ends when you go down a mud slide into a full on mud bath! We all turned our lights out and had the weirdest smeary experience feelings around in the goofy textured mud in the pitch black. The people in our group quickly became our friends.

When we went to leave my bike was broken.... Again! The guide decided to tow my bike back.

For dinner we all decided to go outside or the main town of Phong Nha into the really rural area to a little place called "pub with cold beer."The name has nothing to do with what actually goes on there. It was a short drive down the main road and then a turn down off into the dirt roads. The place itself was nothing more than a family living on a farm in a field. They opened the restaurant as an authentic Vietnamese experience.

We ordered two chickens for dinner. Before I knew it two girls under ten brought the chickens out to weigh in front of us. We were told to go to the back behind the house. The mom asks who is going to kill the dinner. Obviously I raise my hand and so does another boy. After I volunteer I got a little nervous. Oh man I'm going to have to kill a chicken!!!!

The one little girl positions me on the ground pinning the chicken down. She then proceeds to hand me a giant knife. Woah what is wrong with this picture. A little girl the age of my kindergarten students just handed me a giant knife!!!! The mom quickly explains that I have to cut the throat and bleed it out. They don't waste anything, not even the blood. It is all used. I feel sick I don't think I can do it. 

I look the beady creature in the eye. Well at least this chicken is going to be used! Ill skip the details but it was pretty surreal. When it was over I pass the knife back to the child! Once again feeling guilty that I'm passing a small child a knife. The other child takes the twitching chicken and begins to swing it around likes its a play toy. These girls are going to be pretty awesome and tough by the time they reach 12.

They cook and prepare our chicken. I can say it was my best Vietnamese meal I had the entire time. They had a peanut sauce that is to die for. If you ever get a chance to to to Vietnam, visit phong Nha and visit this lovely family. The two young girls will play anyone in pool and I promise you they will kick your butt and win. I saw it happen against ever guy we were with. 

Travel Friends

Friend

A very general term that has gotten even more broad along my travels. When you travel alone you aren't friendless and lonely as some would think. The entire world becomes your friend if you take the opportunity. The person who shares your long bus ride seat, the girl booking a flight on the computer next to you, someone who offers you the five cents you need to pay your meal, and the girl who decides to buy a motorbike on a whim with you. They all become your friends in a way. Some become more meaningful than others but they all influence you. Everyone shares a common interest, travel. That's what binds backpackers together and makes it so easy to meet one another. I've been fortunate enough to have created some unparalleled travel friends and countless other ones. Jenny knew I was upset at losing my painting and was nice enough to suggest giving me hers. She is the kindest girl I have ever met. Tasha extended a helping hand when I lost my cards and loaned me money, which without her my trip would've been cut short. And Morgan? She gave me lessons on being an adult.

Then there are the local people. They too become friends. Sharing their homes and their dinner tables while they make you laugh, help you out, and make you feel comfortable. These people treat you like family and a friend they have known there entire life. They value the happiness of those around them. A virtue that is priceless. 

This is all amazing and its a crazy feeling to know you can find people anywhere. But then there are the times when you encounter a friend from home halfway across the world. A bridge between travel and home is linked.  While you are traveling you can lose a sense of how different and out of ordinary the thing you are doing really are. It's especially easy because everyone around you is doing the same or similarly adventurous things. When you create the link to your home life you realize the extent of the extraordinary experiences you are having.

Almost two years ago I sat at the a Cheesecake Factory in Pittsburgh and said goodbye to one of my best friends.Tom had boughten a one way ticket to Thailand to get his ESL certificate and teach for a little. That little journey turned into way more. Fast forward two years and here I am in Chiang Mai, Thailand in his new home town. 

When he first appeared outside the hotel room it was strange. So much time had passed yet seeing him made it seem like it hadn't. The details over what we did the next two days aren't important. I'm pretty sure we could've sat in a empty room and had a good time. I got to meet his new friends, see his home away from home, went to a super cool temple, and talked a lot. 

There was so much to talk about. I mean two years is a long time. If I look back at the things I have done it is overwhelming. I'm in a totally different place than I was when we parted two years ago and I was so proud to share the new and happy changes in my life. I have made many of them. Although we are both different people now our friendship was clearly the same. Our jokes were the same and we didn't miss a beat. It felt like someone pressed the pause button when we said goodbye two years earlier and were just resuming the story. That is what true friendship is.

Sharing my stories with him in person felt amazing. The way I see it, there are a couple different types of people. One of those types are the people you meet that just make you want to be a better person. Tom falls in that category. It's so easy to feed off each others enthusiasm for travel and culture. He is the first person to have ever challenged my views and actually made me rethink some things a few years ago. Although I may not switch my stance on a subject it has made me think from other perspectives. It's a very special thing to have friends like that. It seems that the more I travel the more people like him I meet.

We had a blast. And although it does seem so bizarre that I saw my friend halfway across the world, it began to make perfect sense. I realized that we have spent more time being friends and hanging out in other countries than we actually have in the United States. Travel is what formed our friendship and what keeps it going. So although I have made many friends and share many memories with them this was special. 

Seeing him speak Thai to the local waiters opened my eyes to the fact we are adults. We aren't silly college kids studying abroad. Ok maybe we are still silly. But we are living a grown up life with real jobs and making important decisions in our lives. I can honestly say I am thrilled to be where I am in my life at this point and thrilled with the challenges I've taken along the way.  I hope to encounter more of my home friends abroad next summer. Dana and Elesa I'm talking about you.

This isn't just about him. It's about all the friendships I have made both through travel and home. The small ones, the brief meetings, the good and the bad, the ones that lasted and the ones that no longer exist, and especially the ones that have gone through ups and downs and still continue are what shapes me to be the person I am today. No matter how small they have all impacted my life. Friends can lead you to amazing places if you let them and without realizing it you are doing the same to others. So Thank you Tom, my friends from home, friends from travel, local friends, and family friends for inspiring and challenging me to follow my dreams. I hope that you continue to do the same!

Get over it!

I wake up in the morning confused. Was this all just a dream. I recall the previous days events. No that was real life. Sleep felt amazing an washed away a lot of the grumpiness I was feeling the previous day, but not all. I'm very quiet most of the morning. Luckily Morgan has picked up that its best to just let me be.

We meet two guys while picking up our run down bikes and decide to go cave exploring to the main ones ourself. They probably think I am the most miserable person in earth. I say very little to them. Morgan needed someone to talk to so that's probably why they joined on. We begin the drive to paradise cave. When we reach the bridge we stop for a small break. Morgan clearly realizes I'm still super upset as I stand alone on the opposite side of the bridge.

"Get over it! You are going to waste a perfectly good day in Vietnam. You're an adult." That is all she says and walks away.

Back on our bikes again I make a decision. I am going to let myself be upset for two minutes while driving. I can scream, cry, punch my bike, and think any terrible thought I want. When those two minutes are up I am going to put it out of my mind and enjoy my trip. 

So I start to drive and when I go to scream I let out one yell and immediately it turns to a shout of joy. Then I begin to laugh uncontrollably. Here I am in the middle of the phong Nha national park. I,m driving my motorbike through incredible limestone cliffs, huge caves, and steep hilly roads. I have the largest grin on my face. This is amazing and I can't miss a moment of it because I won't get it back.

The truth hits me. My life is awesome. Why am I sad that I just had a ridiculously incredible experience. Yeah parts were rough but I met the most amazing people and the situations I got myself in resolved themselves in interesting ways. Also, I'm twenty four and have been teaching at an amazing district for two years already. Yeah it stinks I have to leave my amazing teaching team and administration at Mendon. But in the end ill get to meet and work with so many new teachers. I still have a job and ill still be with kindergarteners. I am lucky and blessed to say that much!

My job and teaching are both just like traveling. Nothing will ever go according to plan, every teacher knows that. It's what you make out of the experience, how you react, and how you turn it into a new plan that counts in the end. So my next year may not be what I expected but it will be amazing all the same because I will make it amazing. I have no idea what my next day of adventures while traveling will bring but as long as I enjoy every second no matter what it is that I am doing it will still always be an amazing gift. 

And with that the rest of the day was amazing. 

30 hours- part 4 of 4

And so once again I continue my story being stuck in the middle of nowhere. You ar e probably thinking I have the worst luck in the world. Believe me I thought the same thing but then remembered how much fun being rescued was. Or maybe you are thinking why haven't I ditched my bike and turned to the normal tourist bus route? But where is the adventure in that.

After awhile I decide that my bike might start. Maybe the little guy just needed a nap because he was worn out. Just maybe. I try it and no luck. But just then as if being rewarded once again for not giving up we can hear the sound of another bike. No way there is actually another bike out here. We wave down the driver who is dressed pretty nice. 

We point and motion that the bike is broken. I'm getting pretty good at those dramatics now. This poor guy tries everything. He takes pieces of my bike and electrocutes himself!!! We both jump and realize this guy has no idea what he is doing but he is so determined to helped. Next he tries a running start. No good.

Finally he suggests by pointing that Morgan uses her bike to push me. Although locals have done this to me I can't see it happening the other way around. For fifteen minutes we fumble around not truly understanding. Next he turns and walks into the jungle pulling me with him. What?!?!

He hands me a vine. Ahhhh I get it. We around going to pull the bike with vines. Working together we pick out some strong ones. It's so strong we can't break it. I grab two rocks and place the vine on top of one and bash with the other. Slowly but surely it breaks through and we have a sturdy piece.

Tying it to the bike we are ready to give it a try. Morgan gives it some gas but too much. She lunges forward and the vine snaps. Finding a stronger one we trait again and success. We only have to make it 25 kilometers until the supposed repair station. I use my ponytail holder to hold the clutch down so that I can relax. While Morgan cautious used navigates the windy mountain roads with the weight if two bikes I get to relax taking picture. I'll admit to taking a selfie.

We lose the man but figure we will run into him at whatever lays ahead at 25 kilometers. About ten kilometers away the vine snaps on a super steep section. This time there are no vines around but an old abounded building. I scope of the building while Morgan started detaching pieces of her backpack to make a rope. The building proves useless but Morgan was successful. She attaches her end to the back of her bike with her bike lock and I attach the end of the rope to my small chain and attach it with my backpack lock. Surprisingly it works.

Approaching our goal we are surprised that it is only one house up on a steep slope. Once again we are let down by thinking we would be reaching a real town. With a running start we make it part way up the hill and push the bike to the shady underneath of the house. 

A group of men stare at us. We are u sure now if this is where we were meant to come. Where are we? Two of the guys start to work in the bike while we sit there uneasily. One takes me across to another group of three and points for me to clean myself. Oh yeah I am covered in tons of oil. No matter how much I scrub there is still oil on my hands. Then I hear my bike start.

Yesssssss!!! But before we are allowed to leave we are told we will eat. We sit down together with nine men and a table of interesting food. Whole fish, fish heads, chicken curry, rice, and other things. First they have us eat the whole fish including the head. Hesitantly I close my eyes and bite into the head. It's actually really good. Before I know it little glasses have been filled with water.

Thank goodness! I'm so thirsty I grab the glass and start to drink before I notice the cant they guys begin. Within one gulp I realize I am not drinking water. I can barely swallow it burns so bad. Ughhhhhhh! They all laugh. From that point on when they do their cheers I politely decline drinking another single thing. When dinner concludes and the guys are laughing happily from their "happy water" at they call it we are invited upstairs.

In the upstairs the actually house sits above the parking and eating area. We come to realize these guys are the phong Nha park rangers! We must be close now. After studying the map we are lead into a massive open room with an old wooden bed. Turns out its nap time. I had forgotten that the Vietnamese take their siestas very seriously. Without having to be told twice Morgan and I jump onto the bed and pass out for two hours of deep sleep. When we wake we are refreshed and ready to hit the road.

Once again we wave our goodbyes and take off. The next couple hours are gorgeous. I'm filled with mixed emotions playing over the days events. I'm so proud of myself for sticking with it and staying calm, I'm happy I could experience these things, and I'm thrilled that it is all working out. The views are still beautiful and that never changes the rest of the ride.

We reach a bridge intersection and see four white guys sitting on the bridge. White people!!! Tourists!!! Ahhhhhhh! For an hour we recount our tale from the past day and they laugh at some of our situations. We also learn their bikes have had their fair share of breakdowns as well which is relieving. It's not just my bike that stinks. The best part is town is less than fifteen minutes away.

The scenery at this point changes. Gigantic limestone formations jut out of the ground around us and we coast down the hills passing them. My breath is taken away and tears well up in my eyes. What have we done? Who does this? How had I just accomplished this? I'm not a scared little teenager anymore but a confident adult exploring the world. I'm getting to see one of the most beautiful sights in the world in the open air on my motorbike.

We can see phong Nha town and two things happen. First, Morgan speeds around a corner at the same time as a truck. They narrowly miss each other and scares Morgan to death. Second, my chain snaps on my bike. In her horror she keeps driving and I'm left to flag down yet another kind soul. This one pushes me with his leg until we catch up with Morgan on the side of the road. She tows me to town. The first mechanic we see is where I leave my bike to get fixed. 

Walking with our packs on our back into the main part of village we discover everywhere is full. There is only one hostel and its full. The hotels are full. Then a family says we can stay there. Super nice of them but after all we have been through we needed a room and somehow sharing a bed with a family just couldn't happen this time. We find a place further down that is retry large but clearly not for foreigners. But we manage to get a room and that is good enough for me.

Exhausted and it already being 6pm we lay on the beds. I check my email to see a nasty email from the company that organized our cave tour. It was a lecture on how I should better plan my trip because I inconvenienced a lot of people. On and on it went and I felt terrible. Part of me was mad because let's take a look at what we just went through.... So sorry to upset you. It's not like we did it on purpose. 

 Instead of being angry I sent a nice email explaining the situation. I did feel really bad that they had planned for us but we never were able to confirm anyways. When the lady sent two emails the day before with no response it should've been a sign. Either way I sent an apology. Within minutes I had an email back saying they completely understood and sorry for the lecture but they get a lot of backpackers who just don't care.

Morgan and I head over to easy tiger hostel to book a new caving tour and get some dinner. We are sad to find out our hang en tour is only every couple days and its not possible for us to do it the next day. Settling on the Tu Laun two day tour we are a bit disappointed but still excited. 

The guys from earlier appear at the hostel and we sit down for dinner. I have been eating strictly traditional food from each country but feel like I need some western food. The waitress brings me fries and an Australian meat pie that taste like heaven. Thins are great.

Then the lady from the tour desk walks over apologizing. She messed up the booking for us tour and its now too late to get us on the tour. We beg for her to get us on any but with luck. Everything has to be booked before seven the night before. Now I'm really heartbroken. Although its been an adventure these past hours I can feel myself getting grumpy instead of taking it all in stride.

Not even five minutes later I get a message that crushed me. I no longer will be in my Kindergarten classroom at Mendon. All summer I have been bragging to my travel friends about the perfectly themed jungle room I was going to have. I told them all about the purchases I made towards my room, the cave with waterfall for a coat closet, the palm trees made from pool noodles and paper bags, and my desk made into a jeep. Why?! Everything was already measured, planned, and ready! I never even knew this was an option.

Without a word and a sick stomach in my feeling I walk alone to the corner of the common room and burst into tears. For the second time in one day I uncontrollable sob. That's only the second time in almost two months that I have cried out of sadness and they were both today. 

After a long time I go back inside. Everyone asks what is wrong and I briefly tell them. They are all concerned but no one really wants to be with a grumpy pants. I apologize again and again as I don't really listen to their conversations. Morgan had already left to go back to the room and I sit and talk to a teacher from Holland for awhile. We chat comparing educational systems which was very interesting. Finally admitting that no matter how interesting anything is I'm not mentally there I dismiss myself saying goodnight. 

As I make the walk down the night street I think back to these thirty hours. I don't even get a little bit in before I remember how the dogs change at night. I hear the growling from each of the buildings I pass. With my breath held and posture straight I try to not show fear as I make my way back. I get a few barks but stand my ground. Almost there!

I can see my hotel and the surrounding fence is closed. I look for a bell to ring. Nothing. The only way in is to scale a high metal fence with pointy spears on top. Carefully I begin to climb. When I make it to the top a dog appears at my feet on the street side snarling. I swing one leg over. The dog begins to jump and snap his teeth. Please let me not fall. I do not want to get stabbed nor do I want to getting ripped to shreds. I lift my second leg up and carefully swing that one over. Whew! Last I have to hold on to the bar and slowly lower myself down.

I run straight to my room and jump in bed. As I lay in bed I try to think how I process the last thirty hours mentally. They are wonderful, sad, exhausting, lucky, and disappointing. The timing of everything had to be so perfect for the next one to work out. I should be overjoyed that I could experience such a thing. But I stead I am overwhelmed and once more I cry myself to sleep. 

Part 3

Cockadoodledoooooo...

Stiff and sore I peak one eye open. Is it morning already? I roll over on the wooden bed and lightly poke Morgan. Get up we need to get on the road. Hesitantly we peek out of the curtain. Seeing shadows of feet outside the house makes us more comfortable about leaving. We tip toe out cautious not to wake at other people who could be sleeping behind the other curtains.

Outside we are greeted with a warm smile. She ushers us to a small slope that leads to some water for washing. She motions for us to go clean up. Morgan and I giggle at the fact the lady clearly is referring to us as dirty. Something I won't deny!

Stepping over some chickens and a few mud puddles we reach the sink. After cleaning up a bit I feel overjoyed with our experience. It's pretty cool that we managed to find a place to stay in the middle of the night and that this woman would so kind to take us in. This would never happen in so many other countries.

Can you imagine hearing your dogs bark in the middle of the night because two strangers are outside your door on the road? Now picture seeing them dusty and dirty with all of their belongings strapped to the back of a run down motorbike. They don't speak your language and they are motioning to sleep in your house. Truthfully what would you do? Most of us would lock the doors. But these people don't have the news stories or horror movies we witness in our home countries. They know only kindness and want to help others. It's a beautiful thing that has not been tarnished yet in Vietnam and I hope it never is.

Packing up to leave we offer our sweet lady some money. She shakes her head and pushes it away. I quickly act as if I left something on the bed in the house. Tip toeing back in I quickly sneak some money and one if my bracelets under the pillow peaking out just enough that she will notice it once we are gone. I know money isn't everything and a bracelet won't change the world but its the closest thing to a true thank you I can give her. I could never fully repay the kindness she showed us.

Back on the road I feel wonderful. There actually is a town and we can now see the huts jutting off from the main road in the daylight. Still clearly there are no guesthouse a but there is a town. The dogs are still everywhere but in the daylight they are not on attack mode so they just lounge around the road. 

Approaching a group of dogs in the road I slow down to move around them. Just then two puppies bolt across my path. I slam on my brakes but it is too late. I shiver goes down my spine as I feel the impact. A few feet later my bike finally comes to a stop. I can't even turn around and look. They came out of no where and I was already going slow. My heart is sinking quickly. I jump off my bike and fall to the ground crying.

Behind me I can hear Morgan get off her bike and go to the puppy. By this time I can see on the side some villagers have come to see what happened. They look horrified. They may eat dogs in major areas in the country but in this village they are clearly pets. Morgan urges me to turn around and that it is ok. I reluctantly do so.

I'm sick. I want to throw up. I love animals and I can not stand to be responsible for the death of a pet. The reality of my kitten getting killed while I have been traveling hits me like a tsunami. Up until this point I had blocked out the truth that Ullr was no longer with us. But this single accident made that a reality and combined with what I had just did made me weak.

I turn to see the cute little puppy laying in the ground with Morgan petting him. He's breathing. I can see the rise and fall of his stomach. How is this possible? I try to slow my tears but can't as the bystanders glare at me like I just killed a newborn child. Slowly the puppy stands and falls back down. Come on little guy you can do it! Within the next five minutes he tries again. This time is a success. He is able to walk off to the nearest house. Still mortified but feeling much better that the little guy will survive. 

One of the girls is still glaring at me. She yells to her friend and then points to me a shoos me away. Then her friend begins to motion for the two of us to leave. I remember in the past how I felt when one of my kittens would get hit. I hated the driver so much each time. How could you be so careless? But now with the tables turned I get it. When an animal bolts out in front of you there is only so much you can do. Accepting and understanding her wishes for me to go I get on my bike. 

Morgan takes off and I try to start my bike. No go. I try again. No luck! Please not now. I can't have my bike break after this. Taking a few deep breaths I will my bike to start and it does. I slowly go leaving a piece of my adventurous spirit behind.

As we pass a few villages for the next hour I still feel sick. Every time someone waves and smiles at me I feel guilty. Only a day ago I loved feeling like a celebrity and waving to the children or taking pictures. Today I feel like I don't deserve it. I have to remind myself that the dog survived and I need to move on. The mountain views are stunning but a little more dull in my resent mood.

Slowly I start to relax and enjoy the ride again. It never gets old. The views are always stunning, the jungle bright green, and the path twisting. We only pass a few huts now and then. We pass even less motorbikes. We drive like this for hours and accept the fact we will miss our tour.

Around ten o'clock my chain falls off. Lucky for me we were in the middle of a small village. My bike is fixed by a kind man in exchange for a hug.

Around ten thirty my bike chain falls off again. Two ladies carrying baskets happen to be nearby. The teach me how to fix it. I'm quickly learning a lot. Around ten forty five it happens again and this time repair it myself. 

Around eleven my bike loses its chain once more. I pull over and fix it once more. however this time my bike will not start. No no no no no no noooooooo! The sun is powerful so we push my bike to a shady spot. I quit. Somewhere between frantic and comical I can't decide. I look to Morgan and tell her I'm jut going to sit on the side of the road for awhile. Realizing we haven't eaten in 24 hours she pulls out some hidden energy bars and we scarf them down. They taste terrible.

Greasy, hot, tired, hungry, and mad at my dumb bike I walk to the center of the road and lie down. No ones coming so I have the road to myself. Morgan is learning to have the patience of a saint. I'm learning how to stay calm and go with the flow. With no attempt to move or plan a course of action we sit there for about an hour taking it all in. Mainly trash taking my bike because once again we are stuck far from anything in the middle of a jungle road. But hey at least the views good.

Part 2 of 4

We take off into the night in silence. We both know its a far drive and it is clear we are both tired. If only we would've taken the possible offer to stay in the town.

The road is dark but my flashlight is helpful. Morgan and I drive next to one another so that she can use my light to see. The silhouettes of the mountains around us have a magical and powerful feel to them. They are a black outline against the beautiful starry sky overhead.

For the first hour we talk about anything and everything. Laughing about what just happened, making fun of my bike, comparing travels of the past and discussing the future. We begin to notice our similarities and differences. The number of kilometers u too the next town slowly dwindles and so does our conversation. Exhaustion begins to takeover and we drive in silence once more. 

Beeeeeeeeep....beep..beeeeeep...beep...beep.beeeeeeeeeep!

What in the world!!!! My heart almost jumps out of my body. I look over to see Morgan laughing. She had been falling asleep so she decided blaring her horn would wake us both up! Well it worked along with driving me half way to a heart attack. 

I confess to her that my mind can't help but wish that we could see these beautiful views in the daytime. However I also state that we were so lucky to have been able to find a town to fix my bike and I should be happy for that instead of greedy. Then our running joke begins. Many people rent bikes in Vietnam.Some bold backpackers buy bikes in Vietnam. A few of those decide to take the Ho Chi Minh trail. Then even less than that take the stretch referred to as the west Ho Chi Minh. To top it all off, out of the number of people left actually doing what we are only a tiny percentage of those are girls. Add on top of that that we are driving in the middle of the night then we may be the only ones to have experienced it that way! 

More than half way to the town the sleepiness sets in once more. Then I hear it, Morgan singing Disney songs. From lion king to Aladdin and everything in between the two of us sing at the top of our lungs. We don't stop there. We begin to hit up musicals, rap, pop, classical, and whatever pops into our head. Of course the kindergarten teacher comes out in me and I compose a rhyming song about our bad luck on the Ho Chi Minh.

In this moment I realize I have not only met a friend but an amazing friend. Although we are different we have our many similarities. And while singing in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, on junk bikes it hits me that I am blessed to have gotten this opportunity to meet a genuine nice girl.

Less than ten kilometers away we hit our first hut. A few guys around a pool table turn their heads as we drive past. Clearly no one is on the roads this late. With our goal so close we pray there will be a clearly marked guesthouse for us to stay in. We pull over to check the map. As we start to go a dog comes chasing after Morgan barking. Ahhhhhh! Gasping for breath and speeding away I can not stop laughing. I turn back to her and she has a terrified look on her face. There was no way to see that coming.

As I turn around I have just enough time to see a herd of cows sitting in the road and slam on my brakes. We navigate around the car to only be greeted with more dogs. This time the dogs are on my heels and I scream at the top of my lungs and I give it full gas and my feet lifted up. These dogs are going to be the death of me.

Morgan and I cheer as we see a one kilometer sign until the town. One kilometer, two, and then three....where is the town?!? Morgan thinks she saw some people on the road a little ways back. 

We turn around only to be chased by dogs again. I have never hated dogs as much as I did in this moment. Their ear splitting barks pierce the silence of the night and I never fail to scream as they chase me. 

When we see three people sitting on the side of the road I can already tell that this isn't going to yield anything productive. Sure enough they do not speak any English and seem perplexed as to why we are even there. A joint decision leads us to race back to where the pool table people were.

On the way there you can tell our spirits our down. We had seen so many signs that we never imagined it wouldn't be a major town. I mean who puts distance markers for a twin that doesn't exist?  In our minds we were ok with the adventure because it was never an option that the town would end up a failure. 

Fingers crossed we drive avoiding cows and dogs. Then we pass it. The lights are off and the doors are shut. Defeated we stop in the middle of the road. Nooooo. Now what? The dogs from the house run after us barking but keeping a distance. Then a light comes on and a lady walks out. Morgan greets her and begins to mime what sleeping is.

No luck. Confused the lady looks back no forth between us. She points to us, then sleep, then her, and then the town. We think she is asking if we want to sleep there for the town. Not willing to make the same mistake as the last time I eagerly point to her and make the sleeping motion.

The dogs quiet and her husband joins us to help us store the bikes under a shelter. We are led into their small house. There is a tv, concert floors, and massive ceiling to floor curtains. Behind those will be the beds and it appears to have at least four areas. How many people usually sleep here? It's hard to explain how these houses are set up but we've seen it before. They have minimal but they make it work.

She shows us to a bed. Wooden slats greet us from behind the red and blue curtain. I mean beggars can't be choosers. She sets down a rug type mat to cushion us slightly. We crawl into bed and wish her goodnight after she sets the fan on us and closes the curtains.

Biting our hands we try to suppress our laughs. Unbelievable. Our lives are getting better and worse at the same time. This is everything I could have asked for. I'm realizing that I thirst for adventure and to be in real culture. How much more could I ask for than this? Still giggling we whisper about our situation to each other. We agree to wake up in three hours and get on the road at sunrise. If we do we may be able to make it for our caving tour. Sweet dreams!