What threw me was being, essentially, stripped of my independence.
Sure, I had lots of time to go visit places and wander about on my own.
When I went to the grocery store in Ho Chi Minh, I walked along a “hem”—basically a series of tiny little criss-crossing alleyways-cum-streets.
Most of the way, it was about wide enough for two people to walk abreast, and I was walking along, in the dark, next to two streams of motorbike traffic heading in alternate directions, desperately praying they’d stop for me when there was another bike passing at the same time.
Cambodia, though, where I spent vast leagues of time, I despised.I no longer am thrown if I’m left standing in between lines of traffic, waiting for the next seam.I’m pretty sure I can cross any goddamned street you could throw at me, at this point.But ultimately, I felt as though I was on someone else’s schedule, and that bothered me intensely.I spent much of that time feeling like a little kid being taken on a field trip.