Hay There

August 24th, 2009

So...if you were to drive to Boston International Airport on any random day and were to buy a plane ticket to Vietnam, (for that same day) it would cost you about $4,100. I felt like a total balla at the American Airlines check in counter.  This must be what it’s like to be Donald Trump.

When I arrived in Hanoi, Vietnam, it was twenty-five hours later.  The group I was going to be traveling with had already left the airport and gone ahead to the H’mong village.  Scanning the crowd I saw someone holding a Buffalo Tours sign. My ride.

He knew a little bit of English-not enough to tell me how long it would take to get where we were going, but enough to say that I was the person he was waiting for. About an hour later, we arrived at the Galaxy Hotel in downtown Hanoi. We would have made better time had it not been for the countless motorcycles cutting in front of us.

Tomorrow I will meet the medical trekkers and Trent, the documentary filmmaker I’m supposed to be following. I’m nervous-I hope he’s not mean. But I’m also tired and I’ve been up...let’s see...going on forty hours now.