Time to Go "Home"...

San Francisco, CA/ Ho Chi Minh (Saigon), Vietnam

July 5, 2007
N 10°46.071
E 106°41.665

Since I had to fly through San Francisco three times during my trip to the States, I realized I needed a night in my favorite city in the world—the place I still call home. I jumped off the plane, grabbed my bags, and headed to BART, immediately excited, barely able to contain myself. I was back in San Francisco, even if it was for only 18 hours—I didn’t care.

I immediately felt obligated to help the tourists I encountered on BART trying to figure out their stop… “two more stops until your station,” I told the two Japanese girls holding their USA guide. I reminded them again when we got to Powell Street Station. I love this city I kept saying to nobody in particular after I finally reached my stop and walked down the street.

From BART I caught my “favorite” bus, the Stockton 30, at 6:00 PM the day before a holiday—as usual it was standing room only. I stood still with my large pack doing my best not to knock the people behind me off of their feet. As usual, the majority of the people got off at the two stops through Chinatown, leaving me a little room to maneuver before I exited at Washington Square Park.

The park was as perfect as always, dogs frolicking, bums napping in the sun, and mothers pushing their babies for an afternoon walk. The views of Coit Tower and St. Peter and Paul Church had me again whispering under my breath … this is the best city! I made my way down Columbus Street towards our friend Mike’s house, my home for the night, when I saw a couple tourists trying to read a map. I stopped and helped them, pointed them in the direction of the famous North Beach eateries.

I dumped off my stuff and caught up with Mike before we headed to Giordano Bros. for an All-in-One sandwich (meat, cheese, fries and slaw between two pieces of bread—pure decadence) and Buffalo wings. The live music was already playing when we walked through the doors and I saw Allison holding her beautiful six month old daughter Sadie. The last time I saw Sadie she was 15 days old, a tiny little girl in my arms; now she has a cute personality and giggled when I tickled her belly. I quickly offered to take her for awhile knowing she will be close to a year old next time I see her.

Even though my trip to San Francisco was last minute, Shelby and Dustin were available to meet me for a night in the city. I am so lucky to have such great friends. As we were waiting for Shelby, Dustin, and Dustin’s brother Casey, my good friend Virginia walked into the highly rated sandwich shop. I sent Virginia a message earlier in the day letting her know I would be in town if she had time to meet me. I was ecstatic to see her and everyone else.

We hung out at Giordano Bros. for awhile before heading to Tony Nik’s, another one of my favorite North Beach joints. As we walked to the local watering hole, the area was bustling with tourists, locals and the “bridge and tunnel” crowd. The air was crisp and I quickly put on my light sweater to stop the chill. When the night finally came to an end, I knew I couldn’t be happier with the fantastic evening I had with my friends, in my city. I wanted the evening to last forever, but since I knew I was fighting sleep—it had to come to an end.

In the morning, as the sun shinned brightly over the San Francisco skies, I had some time to grab a coffee at Café Trieste. Luckily, two of my favorite people were working—Paul and Shawn—I gave them warm hellos and goodbyes all at the same time. I had a little one-on-one time with Shelby during our caffeine fix, thanked her for being such a good friend and then she took me to the airport.

After Shelby dropped me off at the San Francisco International terminal, I reflected on my quick visit to the United States. I realized how lucky I am to have such great friends and family and how much I enjoyed my time with each of them during my stay. For some of the people, like my Dad, it included long telephone conversations we haven’t been able to share due to the high cost of international calls. For others, like Jenn, it was sharing a once in a lifetime memory as she starts her new life.

In the end, it took everything to get me back on the plane to Saigon; I felt like I was being torn away from friends and family, but the single most important person—my best friend and family—was what pushed me through and forced me to board the plane. Ten days was definitely a break in the 24x7x365, but like they say… absence makes the heart grow fonder. I am more of the opinion that time together makes us stronger... at least that has been the case to date.

Stories From The Beach (Part II)...

Westport, WA U.S.A./Phu Quoc Island, Vietnam

July 3, 2007
Phu Quoc:
N 10°11.124
E 103°57.963

Westport:
N 46°53.270
W 124°06.360

As Marc sits on the beach on a remote island in Vietnam, I am visiting my Mom in Westport, WA as she prepares for the town's 4th of July celebration. The time in the United States definitely broke up the 24x7x365, but I will be back in Saigon in two days to start it all over again!

Here is another one of Marc's stories from the beach:

Behind the gray sky the sun sets.

Waves continue to batter the shore.
Messengers of the next storm.

Twinkle of fishing boats creep across the horizon.
Their day begins.

Wet sand sticks to my feet, another cool beer please, gentle breeze.
My day comes to an end.

Wedding Bells...

San Diego, CA U.S.A./Phu Quoc Island, Vietnam

July 1, 2007
Phu Quoc:
N 10°11.124
E 103°57.963
San Diego:
N 32°43.000
W 117°09.000

I made calls from the San Diego Airport lounge filling people in on the wedding as I waited to board my flight to Seattle. I decided to make a detour to see my Mom and Jim before flying back to Vietnam to be with Marc.

The wedding the night before went off perfectly. The bride and groom exchanged their vows on the bow of the Catamaran, with Jeff Porter as the official and 45 of their friends and family watched the stunningly handsome couple. The happy bride and groom held onto the rail as they put on each other’s rings and kissed. The weather was perfect in the San Diego Harbor, the brilliant sun shining down on the full boat, making a perfect backdrop as the vows were exchanged. There were only a few bumps making some of the guests queasy, as Jenn Porter and Kris Green became Mr. and Mrs. Green.

Marc sent his congratulations from an internet café on Phu Quoc Island. He opted to avoid the very long flight and the anxiety filled days before the wedding as my main job was to keep Jenn calm. I definitely missed him during the romantic day; however, with the slightly choppy water and his weak stomach he made the right decision.

The Catamaran cruised along the bay for another two hours as the guests mingled on the boat. Dinner was served shortly after the ceremony as guests filed in and out of the galley. There were some tears as guests toasted the newlyweds, others choking up, unable to speak in front of the crowd.

As the sun set we pulled back into the dock with the happily married couple. We quickly unloaded the boat before meeting again in the Sheraton lobby bar. When it came time for the couple to leave, I embraced each of them knowing I wouldn’t see them again before my flight. I started to tear up a little bit, but controlled myself.

I was very happy I made it back for the special day. I know it meant a lot to Jenn and Kris, but it also meant a lot to me to see my best friend marry such a wonderful guy—knowing they will live happily ever after.

Hair Removal...

San Diego, CA U.S.A./Phu Quoc Island, Vietnam

June 29, 2007

Phu Quoc:

N 10°11.124
E 103°57.963

San Diego:

N 32°43.000

W 117°09.000

As Marc is hanging out on a remote island in Vietnam, I spent the day with Jenn preparing for her big day. The day included a lot of pampering, such as manis/pedis, some last minute errands for the wedding, and a day of recovery after the bachelorette party last night. Even though Marc is 7500 miles away from us, his day on the beach included some pampering too. The main theme of the day… hair removal.

Part of the "pampering" for Jenn included a Brazilian, armpit and eyebrow wax and just the brows for me. As the lady was applying scalding hot wax to Jenn’s delicate skin, Jenn immediately started to question what the hell she was doing. Jenn let out a little yell to let the little lady know the wax was too hot. The lady started blowing on the wax... yes, down there, trying to cool it off a little for Jenn.

The experience went downhill from there as the pain increased with each pull of the wax. Jenn thought about asking her to stop, but there really was no turning back. The wax underneath her armpits wasn’t exactly a walk in the park; this part was fast, but still very painful—making it difficult to put her arms down. This ways she won’t have any stubble under her arms on her wedding day—not that anyone would notice anyway.

When the whole painful process was over, about an hour, Jenn walked out into the lobby and simply said, "dude, I will never f’n do that again." I guess it is a good thing we only get married once. Or, according to Jenn's florist...twice...we weren't sure what this meant.

Meanwhile, as Marc sat on the beach, here is his story of the day:

I did get a massage today and the little lady insisted that she help me with my back hair "problem" for a small fee... "no good long hair on back, must take off. Yes, yes, no ouch, very easy." I can't believe I agreed to this idiotic idea, but once it started there seemed to be no turning back. I'm no pussy.

She used what I would consider a manual Epi-Lady. A ball of twine that she would spin around the hair on my back with both hands, one end of the twine was held in her teeth, she would then pull forcefully with her hands and use her teeth to guide a new segment of thread through her fingers... yanking the hairs off my back in a sweeping fashion... pulling at the same hair several times until it finally released.

Needless to say it was the same rare form of Vietnamese torture that I'm sure many of our POW's were subjected to during the war. The whole agonizing event lasted for what I believe to be 35 minutes, not quite sure since I was drifting in and out of consciousness due to the exquisite pain. I was actually laughing at the end of the "treatment"... I couldn’t believe I actually paid to have this little lady sit on my back and rip my hair out. I don't even care if there's hair on my back, but she sure did. She got every single last strand.

After the torture treatment ended I was treated to a full body massage... I think it was good, but anything after the torture I was just subjected to would be nice. She could have poured a can of hot coals on my back and I think I would have breathed a sigh of relieve.