Dear Internet,
If my social media posts haven't clued you in yet, it's official - I'm back in the States. This transition occurred with startling rapidity a little over three weeks ago, and had started to brew when I stepped off the plane from Sydney.
You may remember that I returned to Vietnam with an office-imposed 7 day work from home period, though no official government quarantine; the day after I returned, the leadership team refined the protocol to fourteen days work from home. This, combined with the team split for office/home work, left me with only 8 days total in the office in my last month in Vietnam before I left for Nepal, India, and eventually the States. While this turn of events was certainly unwelcome, I was not prepared for my plans to unravel as quickly and drastically as they did.
I returned to Vietnam Tuesday; on Wednesday, the Nepali government issued a notice that no more tourist visas would be granted; on Thursday, I learned the Indian government also suspended visas; Friday, my manager called with serious concerns about my ability to travel home with the many border closures, and I agreed to look into flights for the next week; Saturday, after further discussions with my manager and HR, it became clear that an immediate return was not optional, and I booked a flight for 16 hours later; and Sunday afternoon, I flew out of Ho Chi Minh. Two days later, my return route was blocked by border closures, and Vietnam had barred all incoming international flights, effectively closing the border.
It was a whirlwind to say the least. My only preparations for departure had been a slow gathering of trinkets the last few months for friends, but even that was only partially complete. Instead of packing, I spent my last night in Vietnam writing long letters to my dearest friends, choosing recipients for my many small presents, and drinking any alcohol remaining in my apartment to rehydrate after all my tears. My flights the next day would be tediously long, and devoid of people or distractions from my relentless reminiscing.
I knew leaving would be difficult, but in this situation - less than a day's notice, unable to say goodbye to some of the best friends I've made in recent years - it hurt cruelly. I fully realize that my troubles pale in comparison to those who lost family members, financial security, and more from the pandemic - but in my small world, this was still important to me.
I've thought a lot about why I grew so attached to this place and these people in such a short time. While there are many contributing factors (and so many people I could name), I think the truest answer lies in the community of friends I found there. Friends are, of course, not new to me or to my previous life in Boston. The magic of those 5 months lies in the network of those friends - the fact that they were already friends with each other, that they collectively spent time and supported each other. I've never quite experienced this type of community before in my life, and it's one that I will miss dearly as I adjust to these dreary and more lonely spring days in Boston.
Of course, there's many more reasons that I will treasure my memories of the past 5 months - my many travels, the amazing food, a fantastic work environment, my absolute freedom from responsibility (I never had to cook or clean), my postponement of family duties and difficult life decisions in general, the temporary nature of my assignment that meant I didn't really have to say goodbye to home - so much I miss about Vietnam. I know that if I were to return for a longer assignment, things may not be the same - but at the same time, would it be very different? At the very least, I've learned that I can create a home for myself almost anywhere; the world seems much smaller now.
So - these next few months while I sit at home in Boston, squabble with my sister over shower time, and slowly adjust to this new life - Vietnam, know I'm thinking of you.
Below: a few of those I'll miss the most
If my social media posts haven't clued you in yet, it's official - I'm back in the States. This transition occurred with startling rapidity a little over three weeks ago, and had started to brew when I stepped off the plane from Sydney.
You may remember that I returned to Vietnam with an office-imposed 7 day work from home period, though no official government quarantine; the day after I returned, the leadership team refined the protocol to fourteen days work from home. This, combined with the team split for office/home work, left me with only 8 days total in the office in my last month in Vietnam before I left for Nepal, India, and eventually the States. While this turn of events was certainly unwelcome, I was not prepared for my plans to unravel as quickly and drastically as they did.
I returned to Vietnam Tuesday; on Wednesday, the Nepali government issued a notice that no more tourist visas would be granted; on Thursday, I learned the Indian government also suspended visas; Friday, my manager called with serious concerns about my ability to travel home with the many border closures, and I agreed to look into flights for the next week; Saturday, after further discussions with my manager and HR, it became clear that an immediate return was not optional, and I booked a flight for 16 hours later; and Sunday afternoon, I flew out of Ho Chi Minh. Two days later, my return route was blocked by border closures, and Vietnam had barred all incoming international flights, effectively closing the border.
It was a whirlwind to say the least. My only preparations for departure had been a slow gathering of trinkets the last few months for friends, but even that was only partially complete. Instead of packing, I spent my last night in Vietnam writing long letters to my dearest friends, choosing recipients for my many small presents, and drinking any alcohol remaining in my apartment to rehydrate after all my tears. My flights the next day would be tediously long, and devoid of people or distractions from my relentless reminiscing.
I knew leaving would be difficult, but in this situation - less than a day's notice, unable to say goodbye to some of the best friends I've made in recent years - it hurt cruelly. I fully realize that my troubles pale in comparison to those who lost family members, financial security, and more from the pandemic - but in my small world, this was still important to me.
I've thought a lot about why I grew so attached to this place and these people in such a short time. While there are many contributing factors (and so many people I could name), I think the truest answer lies in the community of friends I found there. Friends are, of course, not new to me or to my previous life in Boston. The magic of those 5 months lies in the network of those friends - the fact that they were already friends with each other, that they collectively spent time and supported each other. I've never quite experienced this type of community before in my life, and it's one that I will miss dearly as I adjust to these dreary and more lonely spring days in Boston.
Of course, there's many more reasons that I will treasure my memories of the past 5 months - my many travels, the amazing food, a fantastic work environment, my absolute freedom from responsibility (I never had to cook or clean), my postponement of family duties and difficult life decisions in general, the temporary nature of my assignment that meant I didn't really have to say goodbye to home - so much I miss about Vietnam. I know that if I were to return for a longer assignment, things may not be the same - but at the same time, would it be very different? At the very least, I've learned that I can create a home for myself almost anywhere; the world seems much smaller now.
So - these next few months while I sit at home in Boston, squabble with my sister over shower time, and slowly adjust to this new life - Vietnam, know I'm thinking of you.
Below: a few of those I'll miss the most
