Don't change your path because you expect something from someone — What I learned in Ho Chi Minh
I had to check out today, so I woke up at 10:30 a.m. I had only been able to fall asleep around 4 a.m., so I was very sleepy and exhausted.
Packed and checked out. Being in Ho Chi Minh City for a whole week felt kind of boring, so I was thinking maybe I'll go to Da Lat.
The big mistake of 'changing your actions based on expectations of others'
I originally came to Ho Chi Minh City to meet a friend. But I keep thinking: 'It's a huge mistake to expect something from someone and change your own route because of it.'
Nothing in particular happened, but when you act expecting the other person to do something, it usually doesn't turn out that way. So you're reminded how important it is to always think about what 'you' want, not the other person, and base your actions on that.
I was able to meet my friend in Ho Chi Minh, but aside from that there wasn't really anything to do. Honestly, I could have stayed in Hanoi for another week and definitely gone to Sapa or Halong. Instead I booked a flight and came back to Ho Chi Minh. It wasn't that expensive—four nights cost about 8,000 yen—but money still matters. There's a lot to learn from this.
And when you're sleep-deprived you can't do anything, your behavior toward others changes, and you're much more prone to feeling down. That's why the basics—living healthily, exercising regularly, and eating well—are so important. And you shouldn't have expectations of others.
Of course it depends on the level of expectation. It's fine to have expectations in your heart, but you shouldn't act on them or change your schedule because of them.
Humans are creatures who want to expect things, but there are limits. Everyone is different, so you can't know when or how they'll feel—or when their feelings will change. That's just human nature.
If you don't expect anything, something beyond your expectations will come.
When I bought my ticket from Quy Nhon to Hanoi I didn't have high expectations—thinking 'Hanoi doesn't have much to do, six days should be enough.' What actually happened was I met Ann and wished I'd booked two weeks instead of six days, and I met Alex who told me about Sapa; if I'd taken two weeks I would have gone to Sapa.
So in the end, when you go without expectations, you sometimes get more than you expected. That's really what life is. Things you think will go well sometimes don't, and things you think are hopeless can surprisingly work out when you try. That's why life is interesting.
First you discipline yourself and keep good habits, and that's how you're prepared to become an attractive person. It's precisely because it's a solo trip that you can reflect and notice how you feel. I think that's really important.
The underground market of fake branded goods
Today I went to an underground local shop near Bui Vien Street.
It was like a market full of fake branded goods, and lots of Vietnamese people were shopping there. They were selling Le Labo perfumes for about 3,000 yen—one-tenth the price of the genuine article. The scent was so similar it was almost impressive.
Apparently they separate the fragrance components using chromatography and then reblend similar scents and proportions. So the smell is almost identical, but over time you might get a sharp alcohol smell, and it may not be good for your skin.
The genuine Le Labo was 30,000 yen, so I really wanted it. But wearing a fake perfume felt embarrassing and pathetic, so I couldn't buy it. I think that's a good thing—it's about always living honestly with yourself.
A Patagonia hat was also selling for 150,000 dong (750 yen), and it looked really nice, but I still wanted to wear the real thing.
So no matter how cheap it was, I couldn't buy it. Thinking long-term, the cheap T-shirts I buy usually end up sleeping in my dresser after I return to Japan and I never wear them. My intuition comes from many experiences of 'buying cheap is wasting money.'
In Vietnam, it seems surface things are important—if a perfume smells similar and it's pleasant, that's enough. But I couldn't accept that.
Bến Thành Market and dragon fruit shake
I had beef fried rice for lunch. It was just plain tasty. There was a gym nearby, so I thought I'd like to work out there. Another thing I learned: 'Actually gyms are everywhere.
So always have a set of gym gear (training shoes, workout set, towel) on hand.' I really like being the kind of person who works out at the gym; it's my favorite time. It's self-investment—training my body and becoming more attractive.
I walked to Bến Thành Market. It's a place you often see on reels; it feels like a local market. But when I looked at hats, the underground market earlier was cheaper. Since many foreigners come here, they set the prices higher. There were almost no Vietnamese customers.
I'd seen a reel saying that juice is cheap and delicious in the center, so I went to check it out. An older woman and a young woman immediately started talking to me. They spoke Japanese so fluently it felt wild and impressive. I wish I could be that forward in approaching people. Of course, you'd lose some things if you became like that—sensitivity and the ability to read pauses, for example.
I ordered a dragon fruit shake. I'd never seen one before and wanted to try it. It was delicious. The pink color was ridiculously intense from coloring, but the taste was really interesting. The fruits I can't stand in Southeast Asia are jackfruit, papaya, and durian. These three are seriously impossible for me (lol).
A room with a broken windowpane
Checked into the hotel. It's like a studio room inside a hostel. Then the older woman showed me a photo of a broken window and said, 'The guest staying here until today broke the window, the room is a mess and needs repairs. So I booked another nearby room—could you stay there for one night and come here at noon tomorrow? Laundry and water will be free. I'll also take 100,000 dong off.'
Why did I, who checked in first, end up having to switch rooms? I think it's because they thought I looked kind and would agree. I'm pretty sure that's 100% it (lol). Well, that's fine. I moved to another place thinking it's part of the fun of travel. It was a fourth-floor room in what really seemed like a private house. It wasn't a hotel by any stretch and not clean, but I enjoyed it as part of the trip.
Happiness that's not about money
Changing the subject a bit, I noticed something. When traveling like this, the people you meet at hostels are typically Russians, Germans, Brits, Americans, French, Koreans—there aren't Serbians, Poles, or Cambodians. I think that's because people from those countries often have lower incomes and can't travel.
But does that mean they're unhappy? Not necessarily. Watching Vietnamese people, they're often laughing a lot with friends or partners and living vibrantly together. They really seem happy to me.
Of course, from their point of view I must seem like I have greener grass—making money while traveling must look like the best life. But I still think true happiness isn't about money; it's probably a day spent surrounded by people you love, laughing and having no problems.
Near Bến Thành Market, the café had a lot of chairs set out on the street, and there were many young Vietnamese people there—couples and groups of friends. Everyone looked really happy. I thought Vietnam's future truly looks bright.
You don't often see young people having this much fun in Japan. Scenes of couples laughing and talking at cafés, especially in large numbers, aren't common. I think people who purely laugh and share the present moment of life are rare.
