Hanoi.

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Hanoi greeted us with cigarette smoke, rain, chaotic motorbikes threatening dismemberment, and the sweet fermented scent of beer drifting through the streets. We had made it to Vietnam.
Hanoi is the throbbing epicenter of the north, chaotic to say the least. Many find it overwhelming, but no one would deny that this city makes you feel alive. Even if that’s because crossing the street is often an adrenaline pumping affair of blind faith.

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In the Rainy Season

It is the rainy season. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when it poured all day yesterday. Normally (and especially in Accra), it just drizzles for twenty minutes then stops. Not yesterday. And of course, I was on a trotro winding my way up into the hills when the bulk of the storm hit. Trotros are notorious for breakdowns (irritating) and crashes (frightening). And as I stare out my window watching the web the rain forms in front of my eyes, I watch the median, which I’m separated from by a thin sheet of metal. Given my recent adventures with transportation, I don’t expect this to go well. But, in fact, it was uneventful, thankfully. The driver slowed down, after seeing a smattering of cars lining the ditch, and maintained that speed the remainder of the trip.

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