So, I made it. And I managed to plug in my computer without anything blowing up, but of course, no wireless. Tomorrow, I’ll try to plug my computer into my sister’s modem and see if it will work on my mac, otherwise, no pictures til I get back.

The flight was long. I watched three movies, read one book and one trashy magazine. And I slept, or tried to with varying degrees of success. The stewardesses on Korea Air were all perfect. Scarves tied at the appropriate angles, bows erect in back of their ponytails. All smiles and unwrinkled clothing even after 18 hours. Beautiful, friendly, robots.

They were constantly feeding us. Korean food for lunch. A meat filled pastry snack. Chicken with rice for dinner. International flights have the best food.

The flight to Saigon seemed longer than the 14 hour flight to Korea even though it was only six hours. I guess at that point I was just tired of flying. I dozed off listening to the people around me speak in singsong languages I don’t undersand. And then we were there.

Rushed through customs as if we were “special”. We had an escort waiting for us who “knew some of the police”. No waiting. We were just through. Passports stamped and ready to go…except my baggage didn’t seem to be coming off the plane. There was no panic, I just laughed at myself and figured if this would happen to anyone, it would be me. Twenty minutes must have passed while and Binh and I and a guy who I was later told was part of the “secret police” looked for my bag. Then it appeared as if out of nowhere. The tag proudly stating “Rivera Gonzalez” leftover from my sister’s travels to france.

And now, after driving through traffic that would be insane anywhere, but especially at 12AM, we’re at the hotel and it’s time to try to sleep. I haven’t even sorted out my first impressions yet. It’s too dark and I’m too tired. So I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to let it all sink in. The craziness that is, you know, that I’m here.