More than anything, trekking solo meant I could set my own pace, start when I wanted, break when I wanted, and take photos when I wanted. Because the Annapurna Base Camp trek is relatively popular, there were many others on a similar path to me, and oftentimes, I would run into the same faces again and again.
I knew that the views would be spectacular and the trek challenging, but I did not realize how much I would connect with some of the other trekkers along the way. These individuals added to the journey as much as any of the vistas. Here are some of those faces that made my trek so memorable.
With Nayapul as the heart, the artery and vein of my journey can be traced as red and blue. Click map to enlarge
Day 1
Start: Nayapul (1070 m)
Lunch: Sudame
Destination: Tikhedhungga (1540 m)
Lodge: Chandra Guest House
Trek difficulty: Easy to breathe and easy to walk though there was some climbing. The day was overcast and the temperatures remained moderate.
Highlight: The highlight today was getting to know the other trekkers doing similar routes to me. There was a Japanese woman with a Nepali boyfriend staying at my same lodge. There was a man from Hong Kong also traveling solo, and although he seemed too cool to talk to anyone, I tried anyway. To pass the time, Subash taught me a couple fun Nepali card games that I would be able to use to impress the other guides and porters over the duration of the trek. And I met Paula from Chicago. She was staying at the lodge next door, and I realized we had taken the same bus from Kathmandu. We shared stories over some chicken curry and banana pancakes before heading to bed early so that we would be ready to go bright and early the next morning.
Day 2
Start: Tikhedhungga
Lunch: Nangge Thanti
Destination: Ghorepani (2860 m)
Lodge: Sunny Hotel
Trek difficulty: The first two hours were all at a challengingly steep incline. Afterwards, the path remained semi-level or slightly uphill.
Highlight: The two highlights from today were recognizing that I was, in fact, climbing through the Himalayas from the first two hours of intense climbing. These hours let both my lungs and my water bottles feel their wrath. Before lunch I went through 3 liters of water and didn’t even feel I had to go to the bathroom because I lost all that water while perspiring. The second highlight was at my Ghorepani Lodge, where I played cards with some of the guides, porters, and Grace and Eva (both from Hong Kong), and I had a chance to play basketball with the local Nepali children as the sun set shining on the snow-capped mountains.
Day 3
Start: Ghorepani
Sunrise hike: Poon Hill (3193 m)
Lunch: Ban Thanti
Destination: Tadapani (2630 m)
Lodge: Himalaya
Trek difficulty: Today was an easy day that started early with the sunrise walk and ended early in Tadapani. The hike to the top of Poon Hill was steep, but it lasted less than an hour.
Highlight: Watching the sun touch one mountain peak at a time as it climbed into the sky was surreal and very photogenic. After it rained much of last night, the sky was almost perfectly clear, with just a couple clouds to provide the rays of sun more surfaces to light. In addition, after a nice walk through the forest and along a river, I spent the afternoon and evening playing cards and learning the stories of the other trekkers, guides, and porters also staying in Tadapani. The temporary Tadapani community we created felt so natural and warm that I was sorry to leave it behind the next day, but maybe it was its ephemeral quality that made the community all the more special.
Day 4
Start: Tadapani
Lunch: Chhomrong
Destination: Sinuwa (2360 m)
Lodge: Sinuwa Lodge
Trek difficulty: Tough! Although we lost almost 300 m in altitude, we did so by making our way through two valleys– down, up, back down, and back up. I was exhausted. Upon arriving, I needed a Coca-Cola’s worth of sugar to be functional enough to change into warmer clothes and get ready for dinner. The rain during the second half of the day added to the challenge as the trail because slippery and my rain coat uncomfortable.
Highlight: Subash and I are the first to arrive at our lodge, and after gaining back some energy from the day, I asked Subash if he thought that others would be coming. He didn’t know. I see a couple pass by, hesitate, and the look around, The owner of the lodge runs outside and says something in Napali to their guide. I watch hopeful that they might choose the lodge. They start to walk away, the lodge owner disappears into the kitchen, and then I see them hesitate again and turn around. I yell to the owner that they are coming back and she smiles at me and goes back outside. These two trekkers from Belgium will be my hiking buddies and eventually good friends as we all make our way up to ABC.
Day 5
Start: Sinuwa
Lunch: Himalaya (2920 m)
Destination: Deurali (3230 m)
Lodge: Panorama Guest House
Trek difficulty: Difficult and again it is up and down and up and down. The Annapurna trek doesn’t believe in flat. Even at the end of today’s hike when we are eye level with our lodge, we need to climb up, down, and then back up again before reaching our destination. That said, a slow and steady pace made the day more than manageable. I felt much better after day 5 than I did after day 4.
Highlight: The sun was out most of the day, the views were beautiful, and I was finding my “trekking groove”. It is also a great feeling when I was able to arrive to my lodge just before bad weather rolled in and that is exactly what happened today. Minutes after getting to the Panorama Guest House, visibility drops to nothing, the temperature falls, and rain drops start appearing. Again, the small group staying at my same lodge was very friendly, and many of them enlightened me about the famous climbers who had attempted the famous Himalayan peaks.
Day 6
Start: Deurali
Destination: Annapurna Base Camp (4130 m)
Lodge: Annapurna Sanctuary Lodge
Trek difficulty: Although the path itself presented with only moderately difficult inclines, the continual rise in altitude made this last day to our destination a true challenge. Luckily, it was only a half day and the motivation of knowing what lay ahead was enough to keep me going strong.
Highlight: The highlight today was watching the clouds clear as the sun was setting. I forgot about the tough times getting there, I forgot about the mitten I had lost earlier that day on the trail, and I forgot about the challenges that were ahead in getting back down the mountain. At the moment, surrounded on all sides by white mountains towering at around 8000 meters high, there was no where else I rather be. The sky was changing colors while I walked around the Annapurna Sanctuary seeking out the perfect perfect of this uncapturable moment. The sun sets, I go back into the lodge’s dining room, have some pizza and a lot of hot masala tea while the guides and guests all play cards, Yatzy, and compare stories of our journeys to the top.
Day 7
Start: Annapurna Base Camp
Lunch: Dobhan
Destination: Sinuwa (2360 m)
Lodge: Sinuwa Lodge
Trek difficulty: Much harder than I had anticipated. A long day of mostly downhill can be brutal on knees, ankles, and feet. And the difficulty of downhill is only compounded when it starts to rain as it did for the second half of the day.
Highlight: Waking up at 5am for the moment I had awaited the whole journey had to be the highlight of the day. As the Annapurna Sanctuary warmed up while the sun climbed over the mountains, I wish I could’ve been there forever. However, at around 8am, the descent back down began. Climbing down almost 2000 meters and unfortunately with a lot of interspersed uphill made for a sore evening. For dinner, I had some tomato soup with gurung bread to warm up, but as I ate, I could not shake the anxiety of what tomorrow would be like if my joints didn’t feel better. A highlight, though, would have to be after reaching Sinuwa, where I arrived to a full lodge of excited trekkers both on their way up and back down the mountain. This was the first evening that I crossed paths with a group of 8 Australian trekkers, who would end up being some of the best trekking partners. I would eventually get to know all eight of them plus their 2 guides and 4 porters. They were a wonderful group that I feel so fortunate to have run into.
Day 8
Start: Sinuwa
Destination: Jhinu (1780 m)
Lodge: Jhinu Guest House
Trek difficulty: Today should’ve been one of the easiest day. It was a short distance, all down hill, and the weather was overcast yet dry. Unfortunately, extremely sore knees can turn even the easiest of days into a challenge.
Highlight: My sore knees ended up being both a negative and a positive. A short way down the path, the Australian team came up behind me, recognized the pain I was in, and fixed me up. Tim and Mark gave me a stronger anti-inflammatory and taped up my knee in an attempt to stabilize my patella. Although I didn’t feel 100% afterwards, their tape and medicine worked! I was soon caught up to them and continued with Team Australia to Jhinu. Later that afternoon, soaking my sore knee in the Jhinu Hot Springs was exactly what my muscles craved and I gained a little more confidence about the upcoming days.
Day 9
Start: Jhinu
Destination: Ghandruk (1940 m)
Lodge: Annapurna Guest House
Trek difficulty: Today was downhill for the first third, and uphill for the next two. Again, the trek was only a half day of walking, and luckily for me, the uphill does not hurt my knee in the same way that downhill does.
Highlight: Upon arriving in Ghandruk with the Australian trekking team, we have a big lunch and then walk around the relatively big town. We dress up in wedding gear, and I “get married” to the four Australian women as well as to their assistant guide Tilla (because we happen to be wearing the same hat). The laughs we shared as we all got dressed continued straight into the evening as we all recapped highlights of our trek over some cold Everest Beers. For dinner, I had the most delicious Dal Bhat of the whole trek, and considering this may have been Dal Bhat number 15 of the trek, that is a true recommendation.
Day 10
Start: Ghandruk
Lunch: Birethanti
Destination: Nayapul (1070 m)
Trek difficulty: Today was all downhill and flat, but my knees kept reminding me that they were tired. That said, especially after getting to the flat area, the day went very smoothly and easily.
Highlight: Walking back through the town of Nayapul, I remembered how I felt on that first day. I was nervous and anxious as I had little idea about what was to come and what to expect. Those last 20 minutes after lunch, I felt a sense of accomplishment as well as a tinge of sadness for having completed the trek. I will miss the lodges, the other trekkers, the friendly Nepalese, and getting up for sunrise most mornings to watch as the sun rose over the Himalayas. It was this sadness that made it clear how much I truly enjoyed this adventure.
As I depart this morning for my trek to the Annapurna Base Camp, I am both nervous and excited. There are too many unknowns not to be nervous. What will the weather be like? How cold will it be at night? Will the food agree with me? Am I bringing the right equipment? Will I be affected by altitude sickness? Simultaneously, however, it is all these fears that make the trek more adventurous and more exciting.
Originally, I had signed up for a group trek, but apparently it was only going to be me and another couple, and the other couple had to cancel last minute. I now am going to get a private porter/guide and luckily for the same price as before. Although usually a private trek is preferred and more expensive, I was looking forward to meeting the others in the group. But, after a little research, I realized that I will be hiking along a common trail and therefore will look forward to meeting the other trekkers. I can also have more say in setting our hiking pace. In addition, I have already met Subash, my guide, and although only 23, his English is great, he seems friendly though a little shy, and I feel like we are going to be great hiking partners.
Initially, my plan was to hike to the base camp of Mount Everest. Why? That way I, when asked, I could say that I “climbed” Mount Everest. But I have chosen not to, and I have chosen to climb Annapurna instead. The path to Annapurna Base Camp is supposed to have fabulous views and as a result has become a popular trekking destination.
Maybe I just didn’t want to hike on a mountain in the middle of Asia that was named after a Brit. That’s a weak excuse, but it is funny that such a prominent world landmark still goes by its original British name to most. The story goes that William Lambton, a lieutenant in the British army was interested in geology was intent on finding the latitude, longitude, and elevation of this great mountain. When Lambton died, George Everest picked up where he left off. Curiously, George Everest did not ever see the mountain that now shares his name and apparently, he wasn’t one for mountaineering either. Tibetan’s call the mountain Qomolangma, the Nepali call it Sagarmatha, and the Chinese call is Zhumulangma. Given it’s geographic location, I feel these groups might have more authority in naming the mountain than the British.
In addition, I received a personal recommendation for this trek from a university friend who did something similar only a couple years ago. And last but certainly not least, it was easier to find a better price for an Annapurna Trek than for one on Everest.
In preparation of my small, civilized hike in the Himalayas, I chose to get in the mood by watching a couple documentaries on Everest and reading Nick Heil’s “Dark Summit: The True Story of Everest’s Most Controversial Season”.
The first realization was that death is too much of a reality while climbing Everest. Over the last 15 years, Everest’s trek to the summit has claimed on average about 5 lives. And whether that death comes from falling and sliding down some of the highest snow and ice formations on Earth, or whether it is a slow death from hypoxic hypothermia, the risks of making this journey are very real. According to Heil, hypoxic hypothermia is a slow death where initially hands and feet begin to tingle and throb. Eventually, your limbs begin to ache as if being relentlessly squeezed. The brain will start to starve and swell causing slurred speech, poor balance, and finally persistent dementia. Humans are not meant to exist at 29,000 feet, where the summit of Everest resides.
In Nick Heil’s book, to describe the affects of hypoxic hypothermia, he writes:
“As the deep cold intrudes, nerve endings go numb and the pain recedes as circulation retreats toward the core. Often, ironically, it is around this point where freezing feels like being tossed into a furnace. Victims tear at their clothes, throw away gloves and hats, and frantically unzip their parkas, accelerating the slide. Flesh farthest from the heart—toes, fingers, nose, cheeks—freezes first, death advancing from the perimeter. Skin turns pales with frostnip, white during the full throes of frostbite, red and purple with blisters, and ultimately black with gangrene—cellular necrosis, doctors call it, the point at which living tissue is permanently destroyed.
“In the final stages, limbs become insensate and immobile, freezing into place as your body shunts blood toward the lungs and heart, trying to preserve the vital organs. Vision blurs and darkens. Involuntary shivering ensues, a last-ditch attempt to generate heat through movement. You mind swirls deeper into the subconscious, a deep dream state. A few who have returned from the brink of hypothermic oblivion have recounted their last conscious moments as almost pleasurable. ‘You really do start feeling warming,’ Weather wrote in his memoir Left for Dead. ‘I had a sense of floating. I wondered if someone was dragging me across the ice.’
“The ends arrives a few hours later, quietly, in the dark waters of unconsciousness. You blood runs chilled; most brain activity has ceased. The heartbeat slows, fluttering erratically, a wounded bird. This action might continue for a while, the vessel destroyed by the encroaching cold while the heart presses courageously on. At last the pump shuts down, and with that the limited circulation ceases. Internally, there is perfect stillness, equilibrium returning between a delicately calibrated but dissonant energy field in the form of a man and the larger energy field around him—the mountain, the air. The only movement now is wind, ice crystals skittering over rocks and snow, a jacket flap rustling, a clump of hair, stiff with rime, flicking across the forehead.”
Not to worry though, because in contrast, the Annapurna Base Camp Trek, which I am attempting will only take me to a maximum of 13,500 feet. Still a formidable height that will probably cause me to experience some altitude sickness, shortage of breath, and fatigue, but nothing that will threaten my life or necessitate me to bring my own oxygen.
For a little more of the science of altitude sickness, I did a little research. Higher altitudes come with a limited supply of oxygen, and oxygen levels in our blood are determined by the saturation of hemoglobin. After a certain elevation, this oxyhemoglobin begins to decline. Luckily, as amazing as the human body is, we can adapt in many ways, both short term and long term, to the effects of the decrease in oxyhemoglobin. That said, there are theories which show that above 26,000 feet, most humans can no longer acclimatize. This area has come to be known as the “death zone”.
The oxygen saturation of air at sea level is about 21%, and this concentration remains relatively constant until about 21 kilometers up. 21 kilometers is equal to about 70,000 feet, so I’m not planning on having to worry about anything except 21% concentration of oxygen. However, although the percentage stays constant, the atmospheric pressure decreases exponentially with altitude. This lack of oxygen pressure is believed to be the main cause of symptoms of altitude sickness.
I am aware of the symptoms that can arise at high altitudes and I will be careful as I ascend. If I am feeling really bad, I am prepared to stop and see if I start to feel better. A photograph of the final destination is less valuable if I am not around to enjoy it.
Saying goodbye to Southeast Asia is no easy task. The people are friendly, good clean hostels can be found for cheap, the diversity of landscape means there is always more to see, and the food especially in Thailand is inexpensive and delicious. That said, the trip must go on, and Nepal is next on the list.
Soon after arriving in Kathmandu, along with the differences apparent among the locals to those in Southeast Asia, I also notice many differences when comparing the tourists. The tourists seem more intense, but that is likely because many if not most plan to do a long trek. Hiking boots are now more prevalent than sandals, and of the non-trekkers, there is a larger population with tattoos and dreads. Although the differences, the locals and the other tourists are friendly and happy to talk.
After getting settled, learning about my trek, and finding my rain coat, I set off to explore some of the city. Thamel, the part of Kathmandu where my hotel is situated, rivals Khaosan Road of Bangkok in that it is full of souvenir shops, internet cafes, restaurants, guest houses and hotels. Not far from the hotel, someone approaches me who I assume is just another scam artist trying to get me to buy something. Instead, after walking with me for a little while, he is very helpful in explaining the sites and temples as we go. I am careful never to spend any money in case this is still an elaborate scam. However, I make it to the end of the tour without paying anything except for a cheap entrance ticket. I give him a small tip for his help and his time, and we part ways.
One last note about Kathmandu is the power outages. The area where my hotel is located has semi-scheduled outages twice a day totaling about 14 hours. The whole of Kathmandu cannot run on the electricity that is available, and therefore the government set up a system whereby the electricity rotates from region to region throughout the day. Luckily, my hotel has a generator, but the generator only powers specific functions; therefore, if I want to charge my camera battery, I will need to make sure I time it right, and I should never go anywhere after dark without a flashlight.
My room is equipped with a candle for when the power goes out.
After arriving in Kampot and making my way to the RikiTikiTavi Guest House, I put on comfortable clothes, settle in, and go to the house’s attached restaurant for dinner. While eating a very westernized burger, fries and shake, I meet Joanne from Ireland. She is having dinner by herself, I am about to have dinner alone, and I ask if she would like some company. After conversing over the basics, I learn she has already rented a motorbike, and we set up a plan to meet the following day and explore Kampot.
The next day, we acquire a rough map and set off towards near-by caves. Before we get to the true touristy caves discussed in Lonely Planet and the like, we run across another explorer who is on bicycle and he informs us of a larger, less crowded cave on the way. We pick up two more, Jesper and Matilda from Sweden, en route, find a spot to park our motorbikes, and meet a handful of local teenagers eager to show us around the cave. The cave is the site of an old ruined temple, which we confirm by the many statues and broken staircases throughout. We feel our way through passages of complete darkness and try to fit in others that are much to small. We find bats as we attempt to climb up a wall using a hanging vine. All the while, we play with the exposure settings on our cameras as we have to fight the intense contrast caused by thin streaks of light sneaking in between trapped boulders. After this positive caving experience, Joanna, Jesper, Matilda, and I decide to forgo the more touristy one, and continue on to the appropriately named Secret Lake.
This lake may not be a secret to the locals, but for the four of us, finding the lake is an adventure as we bump along dirt paths through local villages. Every couple meters, a young high-pitched voice yells “hello” at us and we all respond with another “hello” in chorus. And at every junction, we stop, assess the options, and eventually attempt to ask someone the way. I enjoy the path to the lake just as much as the lake itself. While the other three find tubes and go swimming, I play with two local kids and make myself comfortable in a hammock. I even doze off for a moment as I enjoy my shady spot.
For the next activity on the day’s agenda, we take a 30 minute ride to a pepper farm. Kampot is apparently well-known for its pepper, and we were interested in learning more about all the hype. We find a small farm, where a father and his son show us around with the son doing most of the talking because he could speak better English. We learn about pepper as well as other local fruits, which they are also growing on the same site. To complete the tour, they cut up some fresh fruit for us, and we enjoy the new tastes with some cold drinks.
The last stop of the day is Kep beach. On the way, we stop for gas, which means that we pull over to a village hut, find gasoline in old pepsi bottles and ask for either one or two liters worth. Kep beach is relatively quiet with some tourists, some locals, and a handful of monks all there for an afternoon swim. I sip on a Coca Cola to combat the warm sun as we wander up and down the beach taking in the sights, sounds, and smells. After a while, I realize that I am wearing a similar color to the monks and ask some to take a fun photograph with me. As the sun starts to go down, we realize it is time to head back so that we do not end up riding in the dark. In the evening, the four of us meet up one last time for dinner and drinks before heading our separate ways hoping that one day we would see other again.
Thanks to Nithya’s many weeks of consulting on the road, she had accumulated enough Starwood Hotel points to allow us to stay at Le Meridien near Angkor Wat. Best shower of the trip. There was strong pressure, constant hot temperatures, and of course great shampoo. But, I had gotten so used to staying at small guest houses and hostels, that I had begun to take for granted that the staff would recognize me and that all places would be as friendly as a family run guest house. The customer service at Le Meridien surprisingly did not meet up to this standard. They forgot our box breakfasts one morning, and they were unfortunately inflexible in accommodating us. That said, it was still a fabulous place to spend three nights and I couldn’t get enough of that shower. I was using conditioner in my very short hair as an excuse to prolong it.
From Le Meridien, I bussed through a flash flood down to Kampot in the South of Cambodia and stayed at a small guest house called RikiTikiTavi. Although not as fancy, there were only five small rooms, and the staff knew my name when I arrived. The room was clean, nice and had A/C, but more than the room, the staff made the place so welcoming. The following evening, I also had a chance to meet Denise, the owner of RikiTikiTavi, who was very friendly as I enjoyed some spring rolls and other happy hour specials while watching the sunset over the river.
I can’t complain about either place as both were fabulous, but I confirmed the value of customer service as a result of their differences.
The two spots I wanted to visit while in Saigon were the Cu Chi Tunnels, where the Viet Cong guerrillas hid during combat, and the War Remnants Museum. Both sites left a strong impression. I felt guilty though I played no role, ignorant though the extent of the American atrocities were not taught in school, embarrassed though I did nothing wrong, confused though the photographs told a clear story, and depressed though grateful for the exposure. I recognized I was being shown only one side of the story provided by the victors in their own country; however, even when recognizing a strong bias with prejudiced language, many of the truths of the war were evident.
While visiting the Cu Chi Tunnels, the tour began with an informational video. In the video I learned of the Vietnam “heros” and the American “angry white devils”. I learned of the Vietnamese struggle for independence, freedom and peace, and of their fearless sacrifices and hardships to achieve those goals. And although it was one-sided, I was able to filter truth out of what was being said. Crawling through these tunnels and realizing how much the Viet Cong suffered from the cramped spaces and high levels of malaria also reinforced their strong will to win the American War.
The American atrocities during the war, however, did not become frighteningly clear until my visit to the War Remnants Museum. Here, among other aspects of the war, I learned much about the American’s widespread use of chemicals including the infamous Agent Orange, which included dioxin. The American’s used Agent Orange as a defoliant to expose areas under the thick jungle canopy; however, the Dioxin has had horrendous effects up to the present time in Vietnam. The Vietnamese government claims overs 4,000,000 victims of this devastating toxin although the US still denies scientific evidence linking Agent Orange and the victims of dioxin poisoning. That said, the list of cancers, diseases, and birth defects caused by dioxin is too numerous to list. In addition, along with the use of Agent Orange, the Americans also used non-targeted bombs such as cluster bombs whose damage spread to both military personnel and civilians.
The War Remnants Museum powerfully told this story through photographs. Photos of children born with birth defects. Photos of people with limbs missing and with faces disfigured. Photos of women and children dead and lying on top of each other.
In addition, I visited the museum with Serhat from Australia who I met at the Cu Chi Tunnels, and with Hoa, my new Vietnamese friend studying in Saigon. An American together with a Vietnamese viewing the photographs throughout the museum heightened the impact of the experience. Hoa was so welcoming and so kind to me, and at the same time, we were both seeing images of how people from my country hurt those from hers. Knowing there was little I could do at the time, I focused on learning as much as I could from the photos and stories presented by the museum. This day forced me to see the American War from the victor’s perspective, and I felt obliged to do so considering it was the least I could do given what I learned.
Getting into Saigon was a shock after my time in central Vietnam. The paddy fields were replaced with buildings and the rivers with roads. However, the bustle of the city was made more manageable as I toured around with my new friend, Hoa on her motorbike. She showed me the post office with its elaborate French architecture, we toured the South Vietnam wartime headquarters, and she helped me haggle my way through the night market of District 1. Saigon is a young vibrant city with parks full of activity and a busy nightlife. Unfortunately, part of the youngness of the city is the fault of the American War in that much of a generation died within those years.
Learning Hoa’s university student perspective on Saigon was a perfect way to end my Vietnam tour. Similar to the other Vietnamese I met, she was both proud of the culture and excited to share it. The perfect example of this was with traditional Vietnamese food. Hoa brought me a special dish along with some ca phe (Vietnamese coffee), which I had ordered at any and every opportunity. In short, the big city of Saigon felt smaller and friendlier thanks to Hoa.
Later that evening, Hoa and I went to listen to Anh Tuyet sing Trinh Cong Son in a concert to remember this famous composer’s death 10 years ago. The concert was relaxing and I enjoyed listening to Hoa and the others around me sing along with some of the more famous tunes. As a change of pace from the last week, the culture I experienced in Saigon was less of the old traditional Vietnamese culture, and more of the current and live arts culture. Interestingly, at the end of the performance, everyone sang a song recognizing the unification and cooperation of the Vietnamese people. When trying to compare this experience to something in U.S., my first thought was that of my school’s fight song that plays after the performances leading up to our big rivalry football game, the only difference being that our fight song ironically has less of a marching feel.
Again, I thank Hoa and all of the friendly Vietnamese I have met that made me feel so welcome. As I mentioned before, especially in situations such as these, I feel so fortunate to have had the experiences and to have met the people that I did.
