Our First Week

Bethany and I have been in Hanoi for a week now. As we exited the airport, the first thing that struck me was the thick humidity. I could barely breathe the air. We started to load our luggage on a bus, and I was drenched in sweat within minutes. This may sound strange, but it was then that I knew I wasn’t home. The heat, the humidity, the smell of exhaust told me I wasn’t in Nashville any more.

After we checked in to our hotel, the first thing we learned how to do in Hanoi was cross the street. It may sound simple and it is. But the sight of the task is daunting. Traffic in Hanoi does not work like traffic in Nashville. There are very few stop lights and yet maybe twice as many vehicles. They have a fluid concept of traffic regulations. Traffic is mainly made up of thousands of motor bikes weaving in and out of each other. It looks like a large school of fish finding its way through the ocean. And yes, we learned to go through that school of fish. You just take a step of faith, walk out into the traffic at a slow steady pace, and sure enough, just like a school of fish, everyone makes their way around you. No one is mad that you’re in their way. In fact, this is how they expect you to cross the street. Again, it may sound simple, but if you were here, you would think otherwise. And crossing the street is vital to existing in Hanoi.

After crossing the street, we went to a grocery store of sorts. It’s smaller than most in the states but they have a lot of stuff packed in there for you to buy. Bethany and I shopped around for a few minutes and gathered some items to purchase. We then went and stood in line with everyone else. There was just one person in front of us. They were almost finished checking out at the register when out of no where came a teenage girl who cut in front of us. She just slid right in and set her stuff on the counter. I looked at Bethany in total disbelief. How could someone cut in line? That is completely rude. I thought at first she might have done it because we were foreigners. I also had an inclination to kindly push her out of the way to gain our place back in line. ( Which, come to find out, may have been acceptable.) Apparently, we had left to much space between us and the person in front of us and the space was free game. Who knew?! I’m sure this is just one of many frustrations I will find in Southeast Asia.

We have spent this week in cultural classes, finishing up assignments, visiting markets, trying new foods, and getting our bodies adjusted to the 12 hour time difference. Sounds like a mini vacation in Southeast Asia. Right? Not really. We were walking through an open air market that first day we arrived. The smell of raw meat in the heat was intense. The people didn’t seem to acknowledge that we (foreigners) were there, probably because most of them were napping in their stalls. Everything looked dirty and unsanitary. And I realized, “This is not a trip. I’m not leaving in two weeks. I live here.” I’m not going to lie. It’s been hard to process, especially today. I miss my friends and family. And quite frankly, I want to go home. I want to be comfortable in my own bed, in my own house. But I don’t think that He brought Bethany and me this far to go home. I’m not exactly sure what good things he has for us to do here. But I know He has a plan. It’s just hard to rest in that plan right now. Maybe it will be easier tomorrow.