I have a confession. I was a complete and utter nerd as a kid, always happiest with a stack of books under my arm. Long before my first airplane ride, I was already traveling the world of my imagination: Exotic British India from The Jungle Book and...
Vietnam is recovering this week from another Lunar New Year – nine blissful days where the country practically comes to a standstill to ring in the Year of the Goat. The city slowly empties as work-obsessed urbanites head back to their countryside hometowns, shops are shuttered and...
Three times a week I make the five minute drive over a singular, newly constructed bridge on the way to my tennis club. The wide four-laned road lined with restaurants (including duck rice porridge for which Thanh Da is known), apartment buildings and one lonely KFC quickly...
I’ve never been a big fan of ballet. Surprising, I know, considering I’m such a huge snob supporter of the arts. But when I got a chance to sit in on the final rehearsal of Cinderella at the Saigon Opera House, I didn’t refuse (mostly because I...
I’ve always wanted to live on an island. It seems my whole adult life has been a series of trips trying to find that most perfect of beaches accompanied by a carefree existence perennially lived in flip flops and a faded t-shirt. And coconuts. In my dreams,...
“Mung bean”, I whisper to the boy in square hipster glasses dressed all in black and hugging an iPad. “This way”, he says as he checks me off the guest list and leads me to the elevator and an upstairs apartment in a non-descript corporate-looking building in...
Not long ago, I wrote a post about how I felt caught between two worlds – the Western world I was brought up in, and the Eastern one I was born to and now call home. If that weren’t enough, I’m a product of bilocation in my...
I love my parents. Despite growing up in a lower-middle class family when we immigrated from Vietnam in the 70’s, they indulged my every extracurricular whim. I remember walking to the nearby strip mall in my shiny new black tap shoes, hearing the clickety-clack of the taps...
I’ve always been somewhat cold-hearted. I’m not sure whether it’s a byproduct of my “Field Marshal” personality where there’s “not much room for error” and where “feelings are a weakness”. Or perhaps it’s simply been honed (or blunted?) by 11 years of seeing daily poverty in Asia....
Failure is not an option for me. I hate to fail. At anything. Anytime. I blame it on my massively type A personality. Or my ENTJ Myers-Briggs type, affectionately known as “The Field Marshal”, the Bringer of Order to chaos, the need to control everything and everyone....