FB Memories reminded me that I had written this in 2017 while waiting for my flight back to Singapore [To be continued. Or not at all. Boarding flight now. ;)] It has been a hell of a roller coaster ride, a whirlpool of emotions this trip. My virgin backpacking trip was in Vietnam - two glorious weeks of traipsing its terrain from Ho Chi Minh to Hanoi. Then I spent a month in Hue/Hoi An/Dalat/Ho Chi Minh. And yet another two weeks in Ho Chi Minh. Given that I immersed myself in her culture on several different occasions, it's no wonder Vietnam has a special place in my heart. Since I return to Vietnam after a hiatus of seven years, of course I am nervous about whether I will feel comfortable in her bosom. A concern that is exacerbated by how I now know more Thai than Vietnamese and keep wanting to respond in Thai. And for some inexplicable reason, I kept doing the wai instinctively during my first two days. But I needn't have worried. After the initial awkwardness wore off, I connected with her again, as if I had never left. The exhilaration of communicating (read: bargaining) successfully after dusting the cobwebs off the few Vietnamese words that I have not used in seven years. The warmth that envelops my soul when my muscle memory nudges me into recognising some words that I haven't heard in all this while. The sheer joy of ordering a cup of coffee in Vietnamese from the locals. The confidence I display when using Vietnamese dong and crossing her roads chock full of scooters. Of course, Vietnam is a changed person.