Back at Home: one week down

It's hard to believe we've been back for one whole week [two whole weeks for Charity and Frank, who rejoined normal life earlier than the rest of us].

We've had some time now to adjust back to our family and friends, jobs and schedules, hobbies and homes we left behind during the trip.  Things are starting to return to normal [with sleep schedules being the one glaring exception...].

It's easy, when thrust back into real life with its obligations and long to-do lists, to feel like the trip was a blur, and not quite know what to do with it all.  

Was I really in Vietnam? That all really happened?

Little things might serve as reminders:

that one motorcycle in traffic. it seems so lonely among all the cars...

the 2000 dong i didn't spend, wrinkly and out of place in my wallet...

the inside joke I almost make, pausing just in time to realize no one's around who would get it...

Little moments from the trip pop up, maybe for no reason at all.

On the other side of the world, an orphanage full of delightful kids are getting ready to have lunch and then take a nap, while Danang bustles by their open door.

A father who works long hours in rice fields, only to be paid in rice, is working extra time to save what he can so his daughter can have surgery it could take years to afford.

A single mother and young son are waiting for a new house, to replace the wooden structure they now call home, with a kitchen that's not much more than a fire-pit and a teapot. 

And here I am in Springfield.  

That's the thing with a trip like this.  The world opens up wide, and feels smaller at the same time.

There's a connection to the people we encountered, whose stories we were able to share for just a little while.

There are a few people in particular we saw almost every day. Yao, our driver, and our translators Tam, Hanh, and Huyen.  Without them we would never have been able to navigate the culture--or the traffic!--so well.

Yao displaying his silly side, a delightful surprise it took a few days to discover.  Other delightful Yao surprises:  his grasp of English, his preference for Vietnamese power ballads, his mad karaoke skills.  His heart for others. His love for his kids.

Erin, Katie, and me with Hanh.  She's a little hard to see because she's in long sleeves, sunglasses, and a hat.  You see, ladies, Vietnamese women prefer to stay as light-skinned as possible.  Socks beneath sandals, long silky gloves, sweaters on 80 degree days.  We, on the other hand, were glad to soak up the sun.