Origins.

I want to share pieces of my origin story. Move backwards, in order to fully understand the trajectory of this story I am still writing.

The very first home I ever lived in, was in Inglewood, an area of Los Angeles. I remember always feeling safe, except for two incidents that will forever be etched into my memory. The first was when a man was shot and killed in the back alley. Bullets blasted through the front of the house and my dad recounts how he rolled over my mom when they were awoken from their sleep, and rolled them both off the bed and onto the floor. I can’t even imagine. Being a young couple with two toddlers, and having to be on “bullet” alert at night. The second time that I felt fear by proxy, was when someone stole construction worker equipment from the back of my dad’s old tan truck out front, and his reaction of helplessness, loss and anger as he punched a hole in the wall and cried uncontrollably, scared the absolute shit out of toddler me. His emotional outburst was warranted, because we did not come from money and because he had worked so hard to start his own construction company, and the stolen equipment was VERY expensive. That may be the first time I ever saw that kind of raw emotion before…

My very first home on this earth. We lived in the duplex upstairs, while family members usually rotated living in the unit below. My mother would hold me in her arms as a baby, and hold my brother’s hand as we all stood in front of the big front window and did a dance as we waved my dad “goodbye” on his way to work.

My maternal great grandparents (my maternal grandmother’s parents) lived in a beautiful, vintage peach home, where the streets were lined with the tallest palm trees I have ever seen. Their home was headquarters for all things familial. Someone getting married? Have a party at Ma and Poppa’s! Someone graduating? Have a celebration at Ma and Poppa’s! Someone’s retirement party? Let’s have it at Ma and Poppa’s. Ooop! Someone pregnant? Get your booties to Ma and Poppa’s for the baby shower! Summertime barbecue? Guess where the heck we’re going!??

This house was LOVE. Let me tell you. I remember as a 2 year old, my mom took me to get my ears pierced, and although I howled like banshee in the mall, I absolutely insisted she take me to Ma and Poppa’s after, so I could show my great grandmother how absolutely baller my new ear bling was! I remember having tons of weekend sleepovers where my brother and I and my two cousins William and Leelend would get up to all sorts of mischief! I was the youngest of the gang and the only female…but ohhh boy, was I the ringleader. Case in point: when I convinced my brother to throw a towel over the revolving fan blades above us, so he could fly like “Superman”. I was very convincing as a 4 year old. Spoiler alert, he did not fly. But the fan DID get ripped clean out the ceiling and we all stood there, bug-eyed and in shock. Allll the boys got whoopings from my great grandfather…he must have forgotten to “discipline” me though…Teeheehee…whoopsie doodle.

My great grandparents are no longer with us in this life, but they are still with me, always and forever.

My maternal great grandparents’ house. Ma and Poppa’s house was our family “headquarters”. Barbecues, celebrations, holidays, wedding parties, anniversary celebrations, weekend sleep overs with the cousins, all of the family magic happened right here. The house was painted peach when they lived here though.

My first ever school was called Purche Avenue Elementary School. Our mascot was a panther and the school colours were blue and gold. Ironically for university, I attended the University of Pittsburgh; which also had a panther as a mascot and blue and gold colours.

this is where I first learned to socialize. Where I realized fresh air and recess was just as important for my life as the lessons we were learning inside. Ms. Silverstein, a white haired woman who was sweet as could be, was my teacher. We had a class pet rabbit named Elliot…who bit me once…and forever made me just a weeee bit suspicious of bunnies. My dad used his construction skills to make a wooden planter; a giant wooden box that the teachers filled with soil and flowers and cute little veg. I didn’t see it outside on the blacktop when I last went to Purche, but I remember it and it’s clear as day in my memory.

Purche (pronounced like PUR-CHEE) Avenue School was my very first educational institution. A mere 900 yards from my great grandparents house up the street.

I distinctly remember walking to these gates and waving goodbye as my mom or dad would drop me off everyday for school. I remember the big Halloween parades where tons of little toddlers and children, all clad in “super cool” costumes, walked around the block with teachers, to give the neighbors a “fright”.

And although it was a tad emotionally sting-y, my visit back to these places in LA, conjured a spell that I am currently still wrapped up in. I need to move back to LA. I need to do some more digging. I need to find my inner child, and show her that she grew up, to be just fine.

I hope you enjoyed this reflection and insight into my past; I have a feeling, this won’t be the last.

light and love always,

-DW

#memories #LA #veganphotographer #lifebeforediabetes #wilsonfamilystrong #inthebeginning #solotravel #digging

What’s A Nature Nymph To Do Here?

Can I be honest with you? Since being back to USA, I’ve been struggling internally with my spirit changes from abroad. Reverse-culture shock can’t even sum it up.

Abroad, I learned how to really connect with nature and how to weave myself into a flow of life that is at a far slower pace than what is accepted here in the States. Long showers, intentional self-care days with homemade face masks, trips to get massages, long motorbike rides to hiking trails, hanging out with friends who’s energy was mellow and warm, going to the local markets to buy myself fruits/veg/flowers and treat myself like a queen.

Me and Morty, my Motorbike in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

It’s been about six months since I’ve relocated back to my birth country, and I’m straight up overwhelmed hahah. I haven’t been tied to this western “work all day, answer emails and phone calls, don’t take-time-for-yourself” mentality in over 6 years.

America is quite frankly freaking me out. Although I’m adaptable and have evolved to many new cultures, customs and ways of life before, something about this time back, is really catching me off guard. Perhaps it’s the pandemic, perhaps it’s the racial revolution that me and my fellow Black kinfolk are facing. Perhaps I’m feeling so overwhelmed because this is the country I came from and it feels more foreign than any other place I’ve ever been right now.

Street art in Brooklyn, NY

so how does this soft lady who doesn’t prefer big cities, harshness and fast-paced deadlines stay zen? I find nature. I meditate. I use what I’ve been learning from my therapist to set boundaries and not overcommit to things I know I won’t be able to complete. I meditate, I reach out to friends virtually for connection (this pandemic has really turned my extroversion and socializing on its head), I grow flowers and veg on my balcony, I sleep and let my body rest—even when others may not understand how much rest this Diabetic empath truly needs—and most importantly, I stay true to who I am.

We’re all just growing, really.

I had a moment of reflection this week where I felt like USA was going to bend and break me. Tear down all the growth and beautiful changes I’ve made internally while living abroad. But then, I reminded myself that it’s MY job to educate others on how I need to be treated. It’s MY job to honor the pace of life that I prefer. Sure I may not be able to get everyone around me to realize that I don’t believe in exhausting my mind and body for money or for things that don’t feed my soul, but I CAN stay true to myself. Spend a few hours in the forest, swimming in a river, listening to the wind blow through the trees, spend time making my own toiletries like I did in Thailand, pick thrift stores over fast fashion, choose not to shave, bring my reusable bags with me wherever I go, wave and say “Heya!” To complete strangers as I pass them on the street. Sure, folks may look at me like I have three heads, but maybe the adjustment I’m responsible for, is being OKAY with that.

They never tell you how difficult reintegration can be…

It’s very expensive here in USA and I’m still working my way up to a place where I can even afford to be alive here. I am a seed. Newly planted in my home country. My roots will start sprouting soon and I’m curious to see what gorgeous plant, breaks through the surface of the soil.

Brooklyn Brownstones

until then, I’m just reflecting and caring for my nature-loving spirit in this fast-paced country. Thank you to those who have made this journey back smoother, gentler, more mellow, accommodating and less overwhelming for me. You don’t know how much I appreciate it 🙏🏽🌱

Patch of green in Brooklyn, NY

Until next time, please take care of yourself and check in on your strong friends too, we all need some TLC don’t ya think?

Light and Love,

-DW

Lessons From The Garden State

For the past two weeks, I was in New Jersey and New York City. I left my Dad’s apartment in Maryland with several intentions for my trip north; however life has a funny way of chuckling at our intentions and presenting a new set of realities sometimes!

While my goals were centered around photography work, reuniting with family, spending time with friends and helping to get some agricultural projects of the ground, I found myself having to adjust to the reality that sometimes the things we NEED to learn; aren’t always the most obvious to us.

1) The bond of family runs deeper than I give it credit for sometimes. That deep bond can also cause more unexpected pain, when you and your family don’t see eye to eye.

2) Living outside of your home country for 6 years means you may behave like an alien to folks when you return. My cousin thought it was so bizarre that I didn’t know how to work his TV and how I kept asking if calling out for “Alexa” or “Siri” would get it to work the way I wanted it to.

3) Living out of a backpack for an indiscriminate amount of time has its charm, but I’m craving roots and a home-base if I plan on staying in USA past the pandemic.

4) I overpack. It’s a problem. Someone please help me learn how to embrace minimalism.

5) Staying with other Vegans makes me way more comfortable. I won’t ever be able to live long-term with non-Vegans again.

6) Cooking is a great way for me to stay grounded when everything else around me is chaotic.

7) I love going on long drives & think they can be the best environments for intimate chats.

8) Always have a plan B, C, D & E…for when your Plan A goes to the wayside. And keep hand sanitizer with you at all times.

9) Folks in Brooklyn will call you out (in the most hilarious & endearing way) for not being “from here.”

10) When cyclists get hit by cars out here, folks tend to blame the cyclist and no one rushes to help. This was hard for me to witness when a poor guy got his bike wrecked in the middle of an intersection. The people of Thailand showed me much better (compassionate) ways to handle accidents.

11) Have in-depth chats with your hosts before you travel far from home to stay with them! Ask questions, talk about your mutual expectations etc. Being on the same page will save you from lots of grief in the future.

12) There is definitely a grace period for re-learning how to be social with other people after 4 months of quarantine. You may be awkward as fuck; that’s okay. This hasn’t been the easiest time for anyone.

13) Vegan Beyond meat and Impossible Burgers are such a mood.

14) Interactions with others, is the one true test for how you’ve grown and changed as a person. How you react to certain situations will tell you everything you need to know about how much work you have on your journey, or how far you’ve already come.

15) I love movement.

16) Plants are essential and growing them, should be taught to us at a young age, AND be accessible to everyone in their homes or communities.

17) Not all knights wear suits of armor.

18) Medicaid doesn’t work out of the state it’s registered for. Pre-plan medical essentials beforehand so your dad doesn’t have to overnight you medication for your survival.

19) Sometimes I forget to tell my family that I’ve traveled to another state, city, region. (I never had to check in with folks like this while living abroad) I like spontaneity, but I’m reminding myself that sometimes it’s helpful to keep the fam in the loop about where I’m planting my feet.

20) When you enjoy a place more than anticipated, it may really surprise you how heartbreaking it is to leave said place. The great thing about travel is, there’s more possibilities for a reunion in the future.

Return To Mother Earth

I made some temporary moves from my Dad’s apartment in Silver Spring, MD to Jersey City, New Jersey with my cousin from my mom’s side of the family. It was great to spend some time getting to know my cousin more (as we’ve both drastically changed since childhood), but now I am staying with a Black, Vegan friend in Weehawken, NJ!

During Covid and the ongoing fight for Black people to be treated as equals; I’ve been feeling as though I’ve wanted to unpack and unlearn many things that have seeped into me from our racist, white supremacist, sexist, misogynoir society. I’ve always been in love with nature; however I’ve yet to take the time to grow a full harvest of veg or be able to stay with a plant long enough to nurture it into a long healthy life.

One of my Best friends in Thailand named Lily, introduced me virtually to a passionate Black agriculture femme named Bean; she lives in NYC. I met with Bean for the first time this week and I was able to see her home in Brooklyn with a serious sanctuary in the backyard! I had been feeling pretty stressed about my own point in life and how to move forward with my photography, but taking the time to chill for hours in her self-designed utopia, lifted all of my spirits to the blue skies above us.

When one can keep plants alive, nurturing them from seedling to adulthood, breeding them into new plants; this, is the kind of dedication and delay of gratification that I seek.

I’ve always seen Mother Earth as everyone’s true Mother. From her earth we are born and in our death, we return to her.

It’s important for me as a Black woman, to meet other Black women who have had a vision, and set it free to the world so that they may have their dreams grow like the plants around us. This time of revolution for Black racial justice, has had me in my feelings about dedication and learning more about the land we inhabit.

And of course as a Black Vegan, I have been thinking lately about how many Black folks don’t feel they have access to Veganism or even growing plant-life in general.

But what if we can change that? What if by community-based initiatives, more Black people had access to land to harvest? What if by encouragement from other Black folks who are exploring the land; cultivating growth within, there was a shared network of growers in every community? This is very possible and it’s something I would like to help contribute to while here on the East coast.

Every thought is a seed, waiting to break free of the soil’s surface.

Bean in her backyard.

Bean constructed this greenhouse for $50. Imagine if every school, home, small business etc. had their own?

I do not have a home of my own and have been bouncing from location to location since being back to the states. The Quarantine slow down was much needed for me and my planning. Taking all full precautions, I want to explore this fiery inner desire I have for making Veganism (specifically) available to Black communities and helping bring home-grown food to life.

Much like being a farmer, agriculturist, gardener or landscaper; working with the earth takes time. It takes routine. It takes discipline. All great traits I am finding I need to exercise. I’m excited to make new connections with Black people like Bean who open their homes and hearts to my curiosities; all things plant-based and Black.

sending green love to you wherever you may be 🙏🏽

-DW

Love In The Time Of Corona.

My magical yoni egg

I am refocusing some of my creative flow into my writing and have set a personal goal to post AT LEAST one blog per week (I mean what excuses do I have now, since I’m at home all day??) and today’s blog is very special to me because I want to talk about love in the time of Corona.

Love has been on my mind these past two years that I’ve been single. Self love, love for friends, romantic love, and spiritual love. I had not really been intentional about my own self-love in the past or connected self-love with manifesting, until I became single honestly.

I realized that with the absence of a romantic partner, I wanted to start living a life that was aligned with how I felt I needed to be treated. In Thailand, I began taking myself on dates; hikes in nature, long sunset drives on my motorbike, days at the sauna, getting massages, practicing intentional self-touch, going to the flower markets and buying myself flowers (sunflowers are my absolute favorite!), cooking intimate dinners for myself and various other activities that made me feel so so good. It was important for me to start treating myself to daily acts of love because this was something that I realized I was seriously deprived of from partners. On top of these physical acts, I began to mentally and spiritually show myself love by attending meditation retreats, listening to my thoughts, listening to my body and providing a safe internal space for me to be honest and truthful with myself. For someone like myself whose top love language is quality time, I began feeling more and more fulfilled with the amount of time I was gifting myself.

I always found it easiest to project my love outward to my romantic partners, friends and family. It was easy for me to tell them I loved them, show up for them when they were in need, provide a listening ear, try to be a safe space for them, not judge them for things they would come to me with, use physical touch and just go above and beyond for their needs.

When I began shifting this energy inwards….woahhh. My goodness I freaking love myself. It’s perceived as weird to say that so unapologetically. But why? Why is it weird to be so in love with yourself, that you will go to the ends of the earth and back, to provide yourself with what you need to feel FULL at all times? Perhaps its this society we live in. The idea that putting your needs first is ‘selfish’ as opposed to essential; really trips me out.

My spiritual love practice has grown so much since living abroad as well. I have met some amazing people who have introduced me to concepts and tools for healing in my love as well. I was introduced to Yoni eggs while abroad. A Yoni egg is a stone that you insert into your vagina. It is a healing tool that promotes better circulation, lubrication, clears energy, enhances kegal strength and is just such a lovely source of power for anyone who utilizes them. I first started using Yoni eggs to heal trauma from past partners and the sexual experiences I had with them that left me feeling scarred. Now, I feel like I’m really practicing using my white stone egg for manifestations. Bringing certain energy and people into my life that provide love and serenity.

I’ve found that when wearing my egg, something in me shifts. I can feel the future of my relationships getting closer and closer to me. I have said for years that I want a romantic partner that is a team mate and a Vegan. I have only dated non-vegans since my first relationship at 15. I’m 28 now and I can no longer travel down my romantic journey with individuals that do not understand or embody this life ethos that means EVERYTHING to me. So manifesting is essential to my practice. And affirming that I can no longer willingly walk into relationships with partners who choose death over life and love. I take the onus for the choices I’ve made in the past with not sticking to my own desires. These past two years has made something ‘click’ within me where I am perfectly okay with waiting until the ideal partner and I finally get to meet.

2020 was supposed to be MY year. My year for a healthy relationship, for deeper communication, for intimate connection, for Vegan love. And then Covid-19 happened. Don’t get me started on how devastating it was to realize that I would not be able to meet, touch, engage, grow with a Vegan partner in real time since this lockdown. But then I remembered that one of the biggest criticisms I had for myself and past partners was the lack of clear or healthy communication. I was not communicating my needs, and several past partners had not been communicating their thoughts or feelings either. During this time of quarantine, I have been manifesting and practicing my communication skills when it comes to my romantic life.

I have found a Vegan dating app (check out Grazer if you’re vegan and craving some online dating) that has actually been more fruitful than anticipated (hahah pun intended). I had used Tinder and Bumble in the past, but it hit me that I was possibly slipping into past patterns of welcoming room for non-vegan partners into my life. Why eat at a restaurant that has Vegan ‘options’ as opposed to just going straight to a Vegan restaurant where the whole menu is suitable for ME? Of course people aren’t food…but you get my analogy I hope.

Since this lockdown, I have been on some virtual Vegan dates that have really restored my faith in my romantic future. Long video chats that lead into the early morning. Sharing meals from our respective homes. Listening to music recommendations that we both may share. Text messages. Audio voice recordings. Connections from afar. I’m in a place now where I move tenderly, carefully and with a speed that’s appropriate for where I am in life now. Strangers are just friends we haven’t met yet. I think I’m really enjoying this time of connecting more intimately with vegan people around the world without having the expectation that any of them MUST lead to anything. I am taking pressure off of myself and off of the people I’m connecting with, by just letting the natural flow of being open, getting to know each other, doing virtual activities and learning more about some pretty amazing people. It feels fantastic to be sitting on some confidence again and to not be ashamed of my needs and wants.

Romance during the time of Corona is really teaching me to speak the heck up. To allow myself to tell another person what it is I’m looking for, what I’m doing with my life and leave space for them to make their own informed decisions based on what I’m laying down. I know I will not be in America forever. I know my home is Thailand for this current chapter. But for now, I am here. and I am connecting. And I am learning that everyday must be a day of self love for me. No matter how big or small the gesture, I will continue to learn as I navigate this digital space with the new Vegans that have been brought into my sphere. It’s okay to be excited for yourself. It’s okay to have unapologetic confidence in self. It’s okay to love YOU.

Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.

I hope that wherever you are, you are gifting yourself some magical love in whatever way that manifests; Yoni eggs, meditation, self touch, virtual communication, a home cooked meal, hugs with your quarantine partners, a lazy day, writing yourself a poem, exercise, comedy, treating yourself to a joint, soaking in a bath, lighting some candles, going for a walk (socially distanced from folks!!), creating new art….or whatever else love means to you.

Sending light and love friends; stay safe and I hope you feel the love I’m sending to you from my corner of the world.

-DW

Here's To Gratitude

It’s been three years since I’ve had a space to publicly write my thoughts and feelings down. Don’t get me started on what that feels like to have not been posting. Let’s just say the space between then and now has allowed me to grow, break down, build up, learn & shift priorities.

I am currently in USA visiting my family and honestly…getting my shit together.

Recently, I’ve been overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude, fear, anxiety, love, reflection and vulnerability. My life is still in Chiang Mai; however after 2019 brought some losses in the form of getting fired from TWO different jobs back to back, an introduction to depression, spikes in social anxiety, life-confusion and general loneliness, I realized that it was time to cut my losses and re-group.

My mom so graciously paid for my flights back to the States with the caveat that I must pay for my flights back if I wanted to return to Thailand. At the time, I was so desperate to be close to my family and get some cuddles, to be cared for, to be safe; that I agreed; thinking it would be super easy to make the money to return to my chosen home.

Yet here I am, still in America, broke, panicked, and longing for the life I left behind earlier this month. Losing two jobs back to back for reasons that make my stomach queasy and my blood boil has been something I’ve tried to heal from. Prior to flying to USA, I stayed 16 days at a Buddhist Temple (I stayed there last year for 10 days) and I was able to get closer to letting go of a LOT of PAIN that I had accumulated from the past year. Choosing to drop out of society for 16 days and focus on healing was the best thing for me at the time and it helped me return to USA without AS much baggage.

Where am I now? I am on a path where I realize that at 28; I’m not living my best life. I’m floating. I’m unsure. Paralyzed by uncertainty for which direction I should go. Since having some ‘thinking’ time here in Maryland where my family lives; I’ve realized that my life abroad has brought me such joy, growth, empowerment and know-how….but it has also brought such deep pain that I’m still working through.

I have never seen a Doctor for mental illness, but I know I am suffering. Going to the grocery store with my dad or leaving the house while I’m here causes me such an emotional hangover that I find myself needing to lay down and put headphones on for hours after.

Thinking about looking at the prices for flights back to Chiang Mai makes my heart race and my pulse is currently feeling like a kick-drum. Little things that I was once confident in doing have become a harder ask for myself.

And why? I don’t know. I just know I am doing the best I can. My coping mechanisms that I have in the privacy of my life in Chiang Mai are not available to me here. I am sharing space with my family instead of having the privacy to weep and stress and cope in privacy. What an adjustment.

This may seem intense (well…it is…) but I am optimistic. I am thinking of ways to overcome these panic spells. I am looking for remote work. For opportunities. For financial independence. For freedom.

I know re-launching my site and this space for blogging is the first step.

After the first step, will come another. And then another. And soon I’ll be moving forward out of this space of feeling powerless to the forces around me.

While reflecting on what I wanted to share with you; I found some photos from a hike I took with a dear friend named Tsion back in Chiang Mai, as well as a recent photo taken at my mom’s pyjama-themed birthday party. I want to share these because I have such gratitude for the nature, connections, opportunities in my Thai-life; and I also have such love and gratitude for my family here in USA. I had several days here where I just cried uncontrollably thinking of how much I have missed my family these past 6 years of living abroad, as well as wept for the friends I have left behind for the unforeseeable future as I figure out how to return home.

Dare I say I felt guilt for being away for so long? Looking at my beautiful parents and seeing their age, their faces change, the lines deepen, the greys spreading, their bodies changing. Oh boy this visit has been tricky. My emotions don’t understand what I’ve exposed them to.

But I’ve never ran away from my emotions. Let the tears fall. Let the confusion stir. Let my pulse race. I’m alive and sometimes this is just what comes with the path I’m on.

No I am not engaged or married, no, I don’t have kids, no I don’t have a 401K, no, I don’t have a 5-year plan. No, I don’t know how long I’ll continue to live abroad. I don’t have the answers for you. I don’t have the answers for myself. Not right now. Can you be okay with this?

If so, then I will be okay with being in this transitional phase too. I will use this space to create a plan for me. Not for you, but for me. For this particularly unique life I’ve chosen. We don’t always need answers.

I’m safe, I’m raw, I’m warm, I’m with my family and I am lost. I am a mixed bag and that’s my honest truth.

Here’s to those who are figuring it all out. Here’s to those who have gotten lost, but have not lost their will to recover. Here’s to my anxious loves. Here’s to my family. Here’s to my friends. Here’s to gratitude; when that’s the only thing you really have to offer.

I’m excited to share more of this journey with you, and get a little bit more vulnerable in the process.

Until next time; light and Love,

-DW

Steady my wayfarer spirit.

Part 1:

I arrived to Bangkok via the overnight train and enjoyed every minute of the 16 hour journey! I had 12 hours to kill in Bangkok before my flight to Hanoi, so I took the BTS metro to Lumphini park first. I always make an effort to find parks in cities and walk around barefoot for a bit to feel connected to the land. I pottered around the lake in the park and watched the giant monitor lizards swim gracefully from rock to rock. After a few hours reading and people watching, I found a Starbucks to sit and grab some wifi. Sipping on my soy mocha frappe, I checked bank account balances to make sure I would be able to get to Hanoi hassle free before my friend Kelsey arrived the next day in Vietnam. You see, towards the end of the month every month my funds are always super tight and at that point, I had been missing my USA and UK bank card after losing them in Pai. So my money situation was a bit dire, but Kelsey had met up with my dad in Virginia when she went back home for part of the long October break and she was planning on bringing my new bank card and some cash my dad so lovingly put in a mini care package. So all I had to do was make sure I had enough money to get me to Vietnam and pay the $25 visa entrance fee at the airport. Well time was ticking and after counting up my baht, I realised in a shocked panic that I did not have enough baht to convert to the $25! I got angry with myself for leaving chiang mai without thinking of this. I used the cheapest mode of transportation from where I was to get to the Don Mueng airport in Bangkok, trains and buses until I was there, sweaty, nervous, panicked. Surely if I did not have the finances to get through immigration, this trip would implode. "Okay, I'll just wait at immigration at the airport all night for Kelsey to arrive if I have to." I came up with a plan A, B and C to keep my mind calm and my panic subdued. It was time to board the plane to Hanoi. And then I realised, I hadn't even converted the Baht I had to dollars! Why was I struggling so much mentally on this trip? As we boarded the plane, I sank into my seat, feeling helpless and wildly frustrated. As I sat, I took several deep breaths as my soul sister Hannah from Belfast would tell me to do. I thought of her intensely in that moment and how she always has an "everything will be okay. You will get through this" attitude. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I turned to the woman in the seat next to me and asked her if she had pre-paid for her entrance visa to Vietnam or if she was planning to pay on arrival. She explained that Chile didn't have to pay a visa fee into Vietnam and she asked me where I was from and what was wrong. I explained my situation and she too reassured me that everything would be ok. Then a head in the seat directly in front of me turned and a tall gentleman began speaking to me. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have my credit card, but no one at the airport In Bangkok would let me withdraw money to get out for the Vietnam visa, so I'm in the same boat with you! If there's an ATM at the airport in Vietnam, I'll pay for yours too no problem at all! You don't want to come all this way for nothing!" He said and smiled. A wave of nauseous relief came over me and my cloud lifted. I thanked him immensely and secretly thanked Hannah in my thoughts for instilling me with her cool cucumber mentality. We landed in Hanoi and my heart began to palpitate again as myself and jake from the seat in front of me looked for an ATM. And there it was! Shiny and blue and beautiful! He smiled, gave me a high five and took out the money. We submitted our visa forms and had a relaxed chat as we waited for our passports back. I love people. Genuinely, when people show kindness and compassion it makes me so proud to be a human. I knew I would be paying this and so many other kind gestures forward because if I could fill another person with the sort of relief and love that I was feeling while waiting for my passport, then I would do it every time. We got our visas and agreed to meet up if we both were in Hanoi again at the same time before parting ways. I made my way to an exchange counter and turned my Baht to Dong, booked a shared taxi, and made my way to the hostel I was supposed to be meeting Kelsey and her friend Zoe the following day. After a hot shower and a few messages to my parents to let them know I arrived safely, I passed out for the night.

Part 2:

The next day, Kelsey arrived to our hostel and I gave her the biggest hug. She has become my side kick and overall soul companion in chiang mai since we work together and see each other every day all day.  We exchanged stories from our October break and she gave me the package from my dad. I wasn't expecting this; he had packed a lovely card, my ATM card, cash, and my favourite thing of all: photos of my family and I. My heart throbbed. I missed my family. The images took me back to their visit while I was living in Belfast, my return trip home in March and sweet moments that were uniquely ours. My dad is THE best. Kelsey and I headed out on the town for a day of exploring. Zoe wouldn't be arriving until late that night, so we had plenty of time to get acquainted with this fascinating city. It was colourful and LOUD!! People honking for seemingly no reason, people yelling down streets, music blaring from various bars and shops. This was very different from Thailand, and the smells! I think it smells of incense and stale curry powder here if you can imagine that. We looked at a map and made our way to a lake that looked really close by. When we arrived to the lake, we realised that this was very much the hub to the city. Buskers played mandolins and other instruments, women carrying heavy baskets of snacks approached, cyclos (a chariot pushed by a man bicycling behind you) whizzed by. We beamed and headed to the lake to take a silly selfie, but as we sat on the ledge of the lake, groups of young people kept approaching us to practice their English! This definitely doesn't happen in Thailand! We obliged and group after group came up to interview us about our lives in Thailand and America. We met some seriously interesting people in that impromptu hour and a half! After we said our goodbyes, we walked on and watched the sun set behind the bridge on the lake. We made our way back to the hostel and got ready for a night out on the town. Bars are more or less the same all over the world, so we saw what you would expect to see, bright lights, loud music, club girls trying to corral people into their establishments, more tourist-seeking buskers and so on. After a few drinks and cool conversations with strangers, we headed back to our hostel. Zoe had arrived and we introduced ourselves before I snuck away upstairs to pass out.

Sapa:

The next morning, I had a rough morning as my blood sugar dropped in the middle of the night and I woke up to Kelsey feeding me Oreos. I hate when this sort of thing happens (seems more and more out here in Asia these days) but in that moment she was feeding me with such grace and giggling at me squeaking with delight and horizontal dancing as she fed my face. Low blood sugars make you do weird things. We both began to laugh as my blood sugar started to climb. I quickly recovered, showered and then met up with Kelsey and Zoe downstairs. I was properly able to meet Zoe this time and I adored her aura! She is from South Africa and had been teaching in Thailand for the past year which is how she met Kelsey before. the three of us headed out to the city to find cheap package deals for Sapa and Halong Bay. We booked our trip and realised we had a few hours to walk around before our bus left. We ate a delicious Vietnamese lunch where I had vegan Pho (pronounced like fuh) for the first time! It was delicious and filling! We spoke of our experiences in Thailand and I asked Zoe tons of questions about South Africa. I was learning so much about a place I never knew a lot about. After grabbing a glass of wine and laughing for a good while on a rooftop cafe, we headed back to the hostel to get picked up for Sapa. The buses were decked out with bunk beds and blankets which I wasn't expecting for a 6 hour drive. I made a nest for myself in a bottom bunk and fell asleep. We woke up in Sapa, a mountain town that is often foggy and VERY chilly! Luckily I had bought a coat in Hanoi because this was the first time I had felt that cold in the past...year! I forgot that that was even a feeling! We were taken to a lodge where we got free breakfast and rain boots to prepare for a day of trekking. The actual town of Sapa reminded me of a ski lodge in Canada on the off season with no snow. The architecture was very rustic, wooden, cabin-y and picturesque. We put on our Wellies and joined a group of two couples to begin the trek. Our guide was named Moon, a gorgeous and wildly intellectual 17 year old. I couldn't get over how beautiful she was, her skin was the most copper, gold Id ever seen and she knew 6 languages fluently just from living in her tribal village and working with so many tourists. We followed Moon as she led us down several hills and gardens. The terrain began to change and the stiff ground turned to mud! We slid and squashed through forests (with pine trees!) and jungle landscapes, passing water filled rice paddies and more rolling hills. Our group consisted of a couple from the Netherlands and a couple from Canada, we all made our way at our own pace, talking and sharing travel experiences. I zoned out and began snapping photos of every breathtaking thing I saw; wild pigs, women in tribal clothes carrying cloth-wrapped babies on their backs, wild water buffalo, greenery, misty mystique. I don't think I can ever describe the landscape to do it justice! Everything was magical like a Vietnamese fairy tale enchanted forest back drop. We trekked for hours, sweating and covered in mud before arriving to one of the many native tribe villages. We saw the crowds of tourists in their trekking groups gathered in a crowed pavilion where lunch was being served. The women of that village swarmed around us as we sat trying to eat our meals. My heart began to race, we couldn't even enjoy the meal because these women would not let up. Bags were shoved in our faces, scarves were held up, bracelets, nick knacks, it was all a bit much. We lowered our eyes and tried to finish our food. Kelsey, Zoe and I caved and paid for one thing each as clearly these women wouldn't leave us be until we obliged. This aspect of the trip (the persistent Vietnamese women selling goods) really helped me to look at my own way of pushing things on people. I feel like I have always been persistent, some may describe it as unbearably so; but it wasn't until I felt the utter discomfort with being squawked at by these strangers that I realised there's a point where persistence for the point of persuasion isn't okay. This was a jarring realisation, but as I thought more about my own life and interactions I've had, I was grateful for the learning experience. After lunch, we trekked on until we reached our homestay on the mountain. The homestay we arrived at was gorgeous! We stayed with a family that brought us into their kitchen to cook Vietnamese food; spring rolls, fried tofu, and yummy veg. We were offered 'Happy water' post dinner and drank up as we sang karaoke in the house's living room. After belting out more songs than any of us had planned, we fell asleep awaiting tomorrow's trek and a return to Hanoi.

Halong Bay:

After returning to Hanoi, the three of us got ready for our trip to Halong Bay. I was running late of course and the bus driver was NOT happy. Like screaming at me in Vietnamese and cursing our names. It made me realise the importance of being punctual (many reminders but this one really hit me) and also the importance of keeping your cool whilst things around you implode. We drove for three hours to Halong Bay and as we stepped off the bus, the briney air hovered around me. I love the sea. It is the one place I always feel at peace. We boarded our boat where we would be sleeping for the night and were given room keys to our cozy cabin. While on the boat, I met a man from Italy named Davide who was really enjoyable to talk to. We decided to share a kayak and row along the bay and Kelsey and Zoe shared a boat as well. Davide was such a good sport answering all my questions about Italy (a place I have never been to but am thinking of moving to after Thailand), we chatted about politics, religion, immigration, Valentino Rossi, food, travel, and so much more. As the sun began to set, we rowed back to the big boat and jumped off the docks into the bay for a swim. The water was perfectly salty and I floated along looking at the sky above. 'How did I get here? To a life that continually fills me with wonder and awe?' I asked myself as the fishes jutted in and out of my legs. We got back on the boat and and had a lovely dinner before happy hour. The boat had a karaoke machine and foosball table which Kelsey and I enjoyed thoroughly while very tipsy. We played a few games with the captain of the boat who steered with his feet. After lovely late night chats with the ladies in our cabin and a few knocks at the door to, "be quiet", we headed to sleep. The next morning, I was the only one to jump into the water for a morning swim and it left me feeling re-energised, fresh and excited for the next activity. We all climbed into these small bowl-looking boats that was rowed by a gentleman who whistled and sang Vietnamese songs. I wanted to sit in silence and just take it all in. This landscape was like nothing I had seen before. We got rowed through caves, jungle mountains and the sunniest of spots on the bay before heading back to the boat. Once back aboard, we made lunch for ourselves on the boat and packed our things to get ready to go. Halong Bay was a little message sent to me from the universe. I saw how important it was for me to go and see Italy finally. Before it would have been too early. The moment must not have been right, and I must trust that. When we arrived back to Hanoi, we had one last night where the three of us bought gloriously obnoxious shirts and went out for drinks. I was woken up the next morning by the hostel worker to catch my van to the airport. And just like that, this trip was over. 

Friendships like those with Kelsey and the other people I have met in Chiang Mai have really helped me to focus on what's really important. I love feeding these connections because time spent with any of my friends is something that makes me feel so very full.

With the holidays coming up, I'm excited to see what other travels, adventures, and situations I get myself into.

Until next time, follow that feeling,

-DW