I am standing in the middle of a four-lane, one-way street.
Mopeds and motorbikes stream around me like a living organism.
I have a suitcase in one hand. A backpack on my back.
And the very calm thought:
“So this is how it ends.”
Cut to flashback.
When I chose Vietnam, I already knew the thing.
The thing everyone talks about.
Crossing the street.
No signals.
No stopping.
No eye contact that says, I’ve got you.
So I planned carefully. Strategically. Wisely.
I would avoid Ho Chi Minh City chaos entirely.
Land at the airport → bus directly to the seaside town of Vũng Tàu.
Fewer bikes. Fewer lanes. Fewer chances of becoming a cautionary tale.
Forty minutes before my existential moment in the road, I get a call.
They can’t pick me up.
Traffic is too bad.
I should take a Grab (Vietnam’s Uber) into downtown instead.
Fine.
One ride. One pickup point. Minimal exposure to madness.
I arrive.
Wrong location.
The bus company says they’ll book another Grab to take me to the bus station.
I wait. I start thinking logically. Dangerously logically — my greatest weakness.
Maybe the Grab will pick me up on the other side of the road.
Because obviously. That makes sense — number 380 is the address and it is on that side of the road.
So I take a breath. I step forward.
CROSSING #1.
I weave.
I survive.
I make it across.
Relief floods in.
It’s rush hour.
Traffic is not slowing down. Ever.
Then I see it. A green car pulling up on the opposite side. Grab is green. But I can’t see the license plate.
So naturally CROSSING #2.
I make it across again.
Heart pounding.
Nope. Wrong car.
Moments later, a Grab motorbike pulls up beside me. Helmet extended. They sent me a bike??
Against my better judgment and most of my instincts I put the helmet on. The driver asks where I’m going. And in that exact moment, clarity. This is not my Grab. No. “Kông”. “Cảm ơn. ” Thanks, but absolutely not.
I am now back on the original side of the road.
Exactly where I started. Still convinced the other side is correct.
So CROSSING #3.
I survive again.
At this point, I feel invincible. Or invisible.
And then, of course because the universe has a sense of humor my actual Grab car pulls up. On the opposite side.
With the driver watching me.
CROSSING #4.
I cross one final time.
With luggage.
With dignity… mostly gone.
With an audience. I get in the car.
End scene.
Vietnam: Day one.