I woke up at 3 in the morning.
Four British roommates had gone to a club and came back at 3. They slammed the door and were loud—honestly pretty crude. Because of that, and since I was already a light sleeper, I woke up fully. I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't get into a deep sleep.
In the end I got up at 11. I took a shower and checked out of the hostel. I was supposed to join a walking tour, but it was canceled because not enough people signed up.
After checking out I worked. Several projects had piled up, so I just powered through them. The hostel lobby had lots of desks, which helped. Breakfast was served until 11, but I asked anyway. They said "sure," so even though it was 11:15 I was able to order from the morning menu.
For 50,000 dong (about 250 yen) I got watermelon, banana, dragon fruit, scrambled eggs, two slices of toast, and butter. Pretty lavish.
I got minerals and fiber, and my body felt happy.
Once my work slowed down I left the hostel. There were a lot of people checking out, mostly Europeans. Everyone would cheerfully call out "Bye!" or "Goodbye!" to the front desk staff.
To be honest, that scared me a little.
I was afraid I'd be ignored. Because I've been ignored before, my mind automatically decides "it's safer not to speak." But really, I wanted to say it too.
With my backpack on I first smiled and said "Bye!" to the staff member right in front of me who was serving beer.
He actually replied "Bye."
That alone gave me a little confidence.
This time I said "Bye" to the reception staff.
They smiled back.
Goal accomplished.
I didn't lie to myself; I kept my promise to myself. My self-esteem definitely rose a bit.
My assumption that I'd be ignored was wrong.
I think I must have unconsciously given off a "don't talk to me" vibe before. How others respond depends on how you approach them. If you smile, they'll open up. In the end, it's all up to you.
With my earphones playing Viva La Vida I walked 1.2 km to the hotel while playing "Viva La Vida" in my earphones. It was 2 p.m. and pretty hot. The 15 kg backpack was a perfect workout. I shot videos occasionally and kept my spirits up heading to the new hotel.
I was used to checking in by now. I noticed I could do it confidently. Travel is powerful. You stop worrying about embarrassment or shyness. Every day feels like a different life—it's really fascinating.
From today I'll stay in a hotel for two days.
Vietnam is cheap, so a private room is totally doable. I took a nap as soon as I arrived and slept for about two hours.
After waking up I ordered KFC. It had been a while since I'd had Kentucky. KFC in Vietnam serves a lot of vegetables and is surprisingly healthy. I ordered a salad and ten chicken tenders, then went back to work.
Tonight at 9 p.m. I had a second date with Ann.
I felt a bit excited. But the second date is the most nerve-wracking. I wonder why.
I looked it up on ChatGPT and it said things like "the second meeting has pressure to close the distance" and "emotions from the first date remain and make you more aware of the other person." Makes sense.
We had planned to meet in the park at 9, but when I went outside at 8:55 it was raining.
When I suggested a movie she replied, "How about a cafe?" OK.
We decided on a cafe near her home. I figured familiar places would make her feel more comfortable.
I booked a bike on Grab and headed to her district.
By the time I arrived the rain had stopped.
Her district was quiet and had hardly any tourists. The cafe lit by orange lights was very romantic.
The sound of rain, insects chirping, dogs barking, and a guitar playing faintly in the distance.
Before Sunrise It brought back the Viennese atmosphere of Before Sunrise.
I just loved this atmosphere.
So she said she was on the second floor, and when I went to head up I was surprised to find her on the entrance terrace.
I said "Hi!" and tried to act like I wasn't nervous. I was good at that act. We went inside and I ordered chamomile tea. Being with someone else made me feel at ease, so I could smile, and I told the staff that coffee at night would keep me from sleeping. I couldn't believe I had this social skill.
I really felt the power of people. I ordered chamomile tea, took it, and went back outside. It was the first time in a while I'd had hot tea. Ann had her hair tied up and was wearing relaxed clothes—probably pajamas-like after work. I thought that was really Vietnamese and nice.
She was wearing elephant pants, so I asked if she bought them in Thailand. I said it's a shame it's been raining all week and asked, "Is it the rainy season in Hanoi now?" She said Hanoi doesn't really have a rainy season, which I didn't know. She said she liked her district because it was very quiet and empty—and it really was. There were hardly any tourists; it was very cozy. The cafe was stylish, with orange lights outside that lit us. We sat across a round table, so our skin didn't touch; it felt more distant than the first date. There were tracks in front, and trains passed.
The rain, occasional insect cries, the occasional barking dog, and people talking—inside the cafe there was guitar or some romantic instrument playing. It really brought back the vibe of Vienna in Before Sunrise; I felt it strongly. This atmosphere—I loved it. It wasn't just because she was there. She was on her phone more than on the first date.
She was frequently looking at TikTok, Instagram, and replying to chats. Maybe it was nerves or an attempt to keep the conversation going? Or perhaps she didn't know what to say. When I don't know what to say I say nothing; I just speak when I want to.
I was relaxed the whole time. Still, what my friend Cici said was true: Vietnamese people will frequently check their phones, reply, and watch TikTok even when they're with friends. It's something we really don't get. It's definitely a cultural difference, a big one.
Thinking about that, I realized Tuan must really know Japan well—he's special. When I went exploring Hanoi with him two years ago, he didn't look at his phone even once.
Anyway, my hands got sticky with honey. Ann noticed right away and handed me a napkin.
But since it was sticky I decided to wash them in the restroom and went to the second-floor toilet. There was nobody on the second floor; it was really spacious. Paintings were hung around; it was truly a cozy little place.
So I suggested to Ann, "Let's go to the second floor," and we went up together. We sat at counter seats with a view. Somehow, being in an enclosed space felt more tense than when we were in the park. In a small space for two you feel an invisible pressure to talk. But I didn't give in to that; I relaxed.
Partway through she suggested moving seats, and we sat at a table seat where we could sit close together, so I wondered if that was her way of approaching me. I asked, "You don't talk much—do you want to talk, or do you just not like talking?" She hesitated and ultimately didn't give a clear answer.
But her expression mixed many things—she was very expressive. When I asked how often she meets new people she said she doesn't really like meeting new people. So I commented that it must use up her social battery.
Anyway, it was 10:55 p.m. and the cafe would close in five minutes, so I asked her to write a message in my notebook. She looked really confused, laughed a little, and a lot of emotions surfaced. Just watching her was so interesting. She showed me "Wierd" on Google Translate. I thought, she definitely knows that word—why didn't she say it aloud? Then I realized she's very sensitive to how others will react and maybe wanted an escape route by saying 'Google Translate said it.' How considerate.
But I've never been called "Werid" before, so it felt very fresh. For her, writing a message probably made no sense—she had many questions about why and for what—and she was a bit panicked. She said, "See you later," so I realized she hadn't processed her feelings.
She asked via Google Translate, "Do you want to go to the park after this?" and I said yes, so we decided to go. I was glad to know at least it wouldn't be boring. I thought maybe the frequent phone use was just shyness. The fact she even used Google Translate to ask "Do you want to go to the park after this?" made me think she was shy. I was happy.
So we left the cafe. I was about 90% sure she'd drive the bike with me on the back, but then she asked, "Can you drive a bike?" and I thought, seriously?
She wanted me to ride her bike to a nearby park. Of course, I'm used to riding from Quynhon, so I was comfortable. I ended up driving the bike. When I asked about helmets she said she didn't want to wear one. "It's okay."
I was surprised. It was my first time driving without a helmet. It was past 11 p.m. so there were no police around and it didn't seem like a problem, so we rode without helmets with her on the back heading to the park. She gave me directions as I drove. I wasn't nervous at all. At one point I pulled out my phone and tried to take a selfie holding it in my left hand, but she hid her face and wouldn't be photographed.
She was so relaxed. She held my waist like a couple. I hadn't expected this at all, so it was really fun and amusing. Riding without a helmet felt so wild and refreshing.
She said she doesn't go alone but often goes with friends or her best friend. While walking we talked about how many friends she has. She said she doesn't hang out with anyone except her best friend, who she's known since high school—a really long friendship. With all the insects and frogs, we talked about how relaxing it was and how this is a place to recharge your social battery.
We sat on benches a few times and walked around. At one point a couple was piggybacking across a bridge, so I asked, "Do you want me to do that too?" and she said "NO" (laughs).
Joking like that, we headed there. It's in the middle of the park, and when we got there she showed me Google Translate saying, "Here is the place where I break up with my ex." I responded, "Oooh sorry... it must bring back memories, right?"
She said she forgets bad memories and didn't even remember why they broke up. But she does remember good memories. I thought, she's totally an ISFP—it's like an ISFP's privilege; I envy that.
Suddenly she took my hand and said, "Hey I want to liste your japanese." When I asked what I should say she said anything is fine, so I said, "Thank you so much. Dating Ann is so refreshing; I've never had communication in this kind of atmosphere before, so it's really enjoyable.
I said, "It's like a date with a different communication style—very interesting. It makes you very sensitive to emotions; it feels like they're sharpened." Of course she didn't understand at all, so I translated it into English.
About ten seconds later she again used Google Translate to say, "There are many mosquitoes, let's move," so we moved. Huh? No reply to my words? (laughs)
And she had me read such simple English via Google Translate. It's really interesting. What a funny date. For me it was a completely new experience.
So we walked and sat on another bench. I said, "Hey, when do we take photos? I write a diary every day and I like to immerse myself in memories. When I look at a photo it replays the scene in my mind like a video, so I like photos." She said, "Ok, let's take picture now."
She took out an iPhone and we took a photo together—just one. I said, "Thank you for the courage." With that, we had the photo. I summoned the courage and said, "Do you know Purikura? There's one near the Hanoi church..." She said, "Ha? I don't get it," so I explained with Google Maps. She understood it was that photo booth thing.
I suggested we go together tomorrow to take memories, and after thinking about it for a bit she said, "Why not? You want? Ahh ok." So we decided to go to the photo booth together tomorrow.
I was really happy. I kept my promise to myself and asked her, and she didn't reject it—she said "OK." I learned that many things I preemptively decide against out of fear of rejection are actually fine. We also talked about Buddhism, and she asked if Japanese monks are allowed to marry.
But I didn't even know that monks can't marry. Then again, thinking about it, I'd never seen a monk with a wife, so maybe that's true.
So I spent about three hours with her. I was sweating, and she asked, "Do you want to go home?" I was half yes, half no. I told her, "I know you are very kind, so you think a lot before you say something—what other people think when you say something, right? But I never feel bad about that, so please tell me what you feel."
So we decided to go home and I called a taxi. It was 12:10 a.m., and because we were away from the center there were no taxis. When I called another electric bike taxi app, one accepted, so we waited. While waiting she grabbed my arm and guided me to a spot out of the rain.
After about ten minutes the bike arrived. I told her I was glad we met, thanked her, and said let's meet again tomorrow. We hugged and said goodbye.
It was truly a strange date—a really interesting experience.
After this date I felt more confident, thinking that rejection is actually less likely.
I suggested doing Purikura and it worked. That's a success experience that builds confidence—a step away from rejection. Though we'd only known each other three days, we had a great time, got to know each other, and experienced a new kind of romance.
This is an experience you can have when you're 25 and single; it was really fun. How the other person behaves depends on how you behave toward them.
Still, her world was really interesting, her emotional life expansive and beautiful. Because it's hard to put into words, the emotions were very rich and fascinating.
I thought I'm strategic in romance. It's not bad—and it's important—to express your feelings. I wasn't worried about being rejected. More than that, I was glad my heart was open.
I felt my emotions were sharpened. I could put into words how I was feeling. I became aware of myself; my emotions felt very refined. Her world had a beauty that couldn't be expressed in words. The waves of feeling quietly but surely touched my heart, and before I knew it my own emotions had deepened.
Love that you meet on the road may be short, but it remains deep. Being able to open my heart in each of those moments was a gift to me.
Romance isn't about whether you're liked—it's about whether you can express your feelings. That's what it comes down to.
