At first, Vietnam was scary. Our initial impressions included thick smog, traffic, and a scooter-by robbery, in which two men on a Vespa zipped past a Mercedes with its window down. As they passed, they pulled a wallet from the passenger’s side and swiftly disappeared into traffic. I could hear the crew pull our cameras closer, and everyone got a little quieter, except for our taxi driver who seemed to think it was pretty funny.

District 1

After arriving and taking in the backpacker district, we saw an array of expected and unexpected sights. Food vendors and small restaraunts sat beside postcard stands, but also next to seemingly empty concrete caverns and the rubble of razed buildings. Vietnamese is a very difficult language, and that made our new home seem impenetrable.

As the week went on, the job hunt continued to be less than fruitful (which is to say, infuriating). Moreover, we noticed that backpackers have created a rather unpleasant atmosphere here in District 1. Every step down the street includes some head-shaking and “khom”s, to inform walking vendors that you do not need sunglasses (as there has not yet been any sun to speak of) nor do you need a wallet (because as soon as you can, you’re turning your money into Spicy Beef Pho). After a summer of bare-bones living, and sacrificing health and happiness, was this what we had worked for?

Of course, the right thing to do in our situation would be to have rested this past week. We should have overcome jet lag, and excursed slowly into the city to build enthusiasm for our new home. We should have slowly ramped up filming, to ensure that we were comfortable with our environment. We probably should not have stumbled into the red light district on our second night here.

Well, we didn’t do any of that. And now, we’re at yet another crossroads.

Pouring Rain in Pham Ngu Lau

Filming here continues to present us with intense challenges. Our conspicuousness (which once, as we sat at an out-of-the-way restaurant, made an elderly woman guffaw in amazement) becomes like a scene out of “Close Encounters…” when the camera turns on. People crowd, and we lose the protection of anonymity. Shipping may be a problem due to customs and we probably won’t be able to publish freely.

Although it may not seem like our biggest challenge, we didn’t allow ourselves time to understand and enjoy this city, and so, the challenges that lie ahead of us here seem nearly insurmountable.

We have a tough decision to make. Do we stay here in Vietnam for three months and brave jobs with minimal hours, difficult and taxing filming, and an infrastructure that will make building out our company even more difficult? Or should we look to our original promised land, Korea, where we could easily secure jobs, housing and transportation, but would have to commit 6 months of our 12-month journey? Do we risk it all—our precious work, safety and happiness— to stick to our convictions, or should we defer to practicality and comfort?

The Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Well, this weekend we hope to take a break and go to the beach. For $60 a person we have been promised nothing but white sand, sailing, fishing, and maybe a few coconuts with straws poking out of them. We need time to relax and think about our choice.