Everything changes

A few days ago, I was not able to get into the blog.I couldn't do anything with it and I gave it up. Now, for nothing I have done, It is allowing me to get into it. But I still cannot answer comments or put on photos. Things change all the time, having nothing to do with my actions or non actions. This is the state of the world now. I have no control over the streams of new information or the changes that happen without my agreement or input. Maybe this is what happens to everyone in old age. Having to let go of the desire to be in control over anything. Just learning to accept what happens. Dealing with things day by day. I will keep trying to find ways to fix these problems because I enjoy doing this blog. I thank everyone who commented for their encouragement.

I managed to get one photo on

Thinking about being Old

Several times I have been in a conversation with a new person and was asked my age. I proudly said 81. Then I saw an immediate shock on the face of the person who had asked me. Then I saw a second reaction that I can only describe as an emotional withdrawal. This has happened so often that I decided not to tell anyone my age. Did the other person think I might die in the middle of our conversation? Or think that because I am so old my thoughts aren't worth knowing? I have been puzzling over this for awhile. I decided to do a little research. Why did my age scare people? I looked up the statistics. In the United States only 3.5 percent of the population is 80 and older. In Vietnam only 2 percent are 80 and older. World wide only 1.9 are that age. So no wonder someone is taken aback by hearing my age. People in our age group don't go out much socially. We are a bit rare. A lot of us are too sick. Or have lost our minds. I have only met three people in my age group since I came here. The first was a Vietnamese man, who was bent over and gave me a toothless smile and didn't speak. The second one was the Vietnamese woman living with her family at the coffee shop. I mentioned her earlier. Her mind was gone. But she kept reaching out to hold my hand and looking into my eyes. Made me feel so sad. And yesterday I met one more. She was the grandmother of the woman who has a cluttered glass shop here. I like looking at all her things which spill out onto her floors and stairs and the front of the store. When I walked toward the store this elderly Vietnamese woman, Probably my age, reached out and took my hands. She smiled at me and pulled me into her arms as if I was her best friend. It had been a long time since getting a hug and I appreciated it. Then she opened the shop door for me and motioned me to go inside. But there was a motorcycle parked among all that glassware. No room to get around. The daughter, I am guessing she was the daughter, motioned me to go back outside so she could get it out. I did. And I tried to tell them that I would be back. But of course I am unable to talk here. I walked on down the street and about half a block away I heard them calling me back. I turned around and they were waving me back and calling to me. I yelled that I would return. They didn't know what I had yelled. So that is the extent of meeting people my age and older. No wonder I surprise people. I will do my best to avoid the question of age now. I would like to be treated like everyone else. I will just say that phrase, A woman doesn't tell her age. Why is the lifespan shorter here than in the United States? When people here are so healthy and thin and always active. Maybe because they have to work so hard. Maybe because they are poor and don't see doctors. Like me, maybe they resort to online medical advice. I have been scrolling through all the online advice. Told to pull my earlobes so many times to cure..... Tap under my nose to make me..... Told to drink another strange potion to cure..... Did you know that if you.....fill in the blanks....then you will.....fill in the blanks. I wonder how many of the potions the Salem witches had given out to their patients. I am trying them. Hope they work on my neuropathy. I still haven't had the courage to seeing another know it all doctor who offers his own useless advice. I am up to trying anything except seeing another doctor. Did you know that if you mash up garlic and tumeric and black pepper and mix it into milk that you can cure......

Confusion

Yesterday afternoon I tried to sort out the problems I am having with getting the blog going again. I finally gave up and decided to not continue with it. I used to think that I was smart. Now I know I am not smart but very dumb. The world has past me by and I can't run fast enough to keep up with all the changes. I wanted to be able to post photos. In the evening I watched the local Vietnamese families as they socialized and played on the jungle bars. Everyone plays on the bars. I have a photo of a grandpa holding his grandbaby up to the ring bars so the baby could hold onto them. But, unfortunately, I could not manage to get into my account to do that. This morning I read a comment saying that photos don't matter and to just write about my life. What a surprise. No one has shown any interest in my life in a long time. Even my son. He has his own life to manage. It isn't easy in this country for us. I think it is harder than in Mexico. Many reasons. The red tape. The language is so different from ours. In Mexico, I would eventually figure out the meanings. Here. No way. I started taking a class to learn it but my short term memory is gone. Along with most of my other once beloved qualities. That is the thing about getting old. Having to watch losing one's identity go away. There is a six story coffee shop just a short walk from my apartment. A few evenings ago, I was sitting there looking at the lake with my son and enjoying our time together when an elderly woman quietly came up behind me. I could feel her but couldn't turn around enough to see her. She was talking to us in Vietnamese. She seemed to want us to do something for her. But we were of no use. She finally gave up and left. Later on, I found out that she is 83 years old. Just two years older than I am. I saw her again last evening because I am trying to find a good doctor for myself. I thought maybe her famiy would have a name for me. She was sitting on a leather couch. Looking ahead. Doing nothing. As I walked by, She reached out for my hand and looked into my eyes. Wanting something again from me. Her hand was ice cold. She wouldn't let my hand go and as I looked into her eyes, I knew that she has alzsheimer's or another form of demantia. She was pulling me towards her, wanting me to stay with her. It was a busy time in the coffee shop and everyone working there was rushing around to serve the many expats who were coming in and ordering coffees. Making requests and demands. I was in the way. Almost as much in the way as the grandma. The grandson finally after reading my request on my translater, gave me a link to a hospital that I could visit. And he almost pushed me out the door, out of the way. I appreciated the link. I felt badly for the woman because I wasn't allowed to just sit with her. I would have liked that. I saw a blog the other day where there is a contest for doing nothing. I think it was in Korea. I would probably win in that contest. Doing nothing has become my life these days. Yesterday, when the sun came out again, I found a spot next to the lake and did nothing. Just enjoyed the sun beating on my face and arms. Back to this blog problem. My computer is corrupted. That was the phrase I received when I asked online how to fix it. Corrupted. Meaning I needed to do technical repair and the first step was beyond my understanding. The problem is that the font keeps jumping around. One second it is at a hundred percent and the next it is at thirty five percent. I end up resetting it every few seconds. Not a fun way to write. Another problem is that I can't get into this blog except to write. I can't post or answer comments. I can't publish photos. And the languages keep changing on me when I start trying to do these things. I can understand most of the Spanish but none of the Vietnamese. I wish it would just be in English but that is asking too much for now. My son wants me to buy a new computer but I don't want to spend the money. And I still think the main problem as my back yard mechanic father would say, I am the loose nut behind the wheel. A new computer is not going to tighten that nut much. Considering all these frustrations, I totally gave up on the idea of reviving the blog. I also saw that now there is another Mexico Daily Living. It is slick and looks good. As I wrote at the beginning of this post, the world has past me by. I appreciated reading that my life was of interest to someone out there in the world. I don't know if I will write again or not. I am frustrated by it. And I need to look for that doctor. My neuropathy is keeping me up at night...

Standstill

So I have spent all morning trying to put photos onto this blog. Nothing worked. I messed with every connection on my camera and the laptop. The cell phone was completely beyond my understanding. But I used my old camera to show what my place is like and how I look these days. Introducing myself again.. I finally had to give it up. Trying to get help would be like a two year old trying to navigate the adult world. With the language barrier and no way to find help, it looks like i am not going to be able to put on photos. A phrase my father used to say comes to mind. It looks like a loose nut behind the wheel.

Encouragement

Things move so quickly in this world now. New ways to communicate. This simiple blog is lost in all the AI and videos done by digial nomads. I was surprised that three people commented. I wasn't expecting any responses. I still haven't figured out how to post photos with the cell phone. I started doing this again just because of being lonely. No other reasons. I rarely see anyone here that I can talk with and my son has his own life. I do see him daily but we already know each other's lives so thoroughly that everything has already been said. I see someone close to my own age maybe once every couple of weeks. I am now 81. Not any expats but Vietnamese men and women. And we can't communicate because of the language barrier. Also, there seems to be a big difference between our health issues. An 80 year old Vietnamese person has had a much harder life than I have had and also been through the Vietnamese war. (They call it the American War.) So that ages a person quicker. Poverty doesn't help either. The average salary here for a Vietnamese person is about three hundred dollars a month. That is working twelve hours a day, seven days a week and often with no days off. That wears on a person. Mexicans don't make much more than that but they have shorter days and more days off. I thought about teaching English here. A lot of Digital Nomads make their living doing that. But I haven't worked for over twenty five years. Don't think I am up to all the stress and demands of working. So, I am trying to figure out how to do the blog again. If you are reading these words, please have patience with me as I jog my memory about how to put on photos and answer questions. I barely function myself. This isn't meant to be an information blog. There are many of those on the internet. I cannot answer questions about how to function here. I am dependent on my son to do things for me. I am just going to write about my very limited personal experiences of living in Hanoi. By a small lake. Daily experiences as I wrote about when I was living in Mexico. I appreciate all comments. Thanks, p I must amend that last statement. I don't appreciate negative comments. Keep those to yourself. I am just a lonely old woman, looking for some outlet and communication....

Testing, Testing, 123

It has been so long since I have written on the blog that I have forgotten how to do it. I received one comment asking me about why I moved here but I forgot how to answer it. I also accidently deleted it. I will have to work on learning again. Sorry that I deleted your comment. Why did I move here? Because my son begged me to move for an entire year. He loves Vietnam and he believed that I would love it too. I was happy in my simple life in Mexico. I have nothing bad to say about my life there. But my healh isn't good. I have neuropathy and walking was becoming dificult for me. I am old now... Hard to accept that fact. And I missed my son. I took the chance to move here, knowing that I would not be able to return to Mexico. My health isn't good enough to make that long trip again. It took me almost 48 hours with all the delays, to finally arrive in Danang. Exhausted. I had to leave a home with everything in it that I had collected for the eighteen years of living there. I arrived in Mexico with only two suitcases and left an entire small two bedroom house when I took the same two suitcases to the airport for Vietnam. The time change is hard to manage. Mexico day is Vietnam night. I went from a country that has one of the most beautiful climate in the world to a country that is probably down towards the bottom. I looked at graphs for a year, comparing the weather. Danang was always at the top of the weather graph for Hot and Sultry.... Mexico runs across the bottom all the way. So it was a big adjustment for me. I also arrived in the middle of the rainy season in Danang. That means about five months of storms. Sitting in my room, looking out the window at the rain, I wondered why I had agreed to give up my life in Mexico. But I finally adjusted. Once again I was like a child. Not being able to function in the adult world. If not for my son and his helper, I wouldn't have been able to stay here. They took care of all the red tape for me. And did the shopping and everything else, the way parents take care of young chidren until they are adults and able to take care of themselves. Well, I am an adult but with all the limitations of a dependent child. It took me many years to manage things in Mexico. And now I am starting over in Vietnam. The language is far more difficult. The red tape seems to be endless. The weather is often brutal. But the people are lovely. In many ways, Vietnamese people are much like Mexicans. Their love of family. Their gentle natures. Their poverty. So many other things that it was not hard for me to feel comfortable living among them. So above and beyond the hard things, This was a great move for me. I will try to get back into the blog if I see interest and if I can relearn how to do it. Thanks, p

My New Life in Hanoi, Vietnam

Is anyone out there? I am testing it out to see if I want to get back into blogging. So many changes have happened since I last wrote, both with my own life and the world at large. So I am checking if this is a good thing or not. I moved to Danang, Vietnam on October 31 last year. Following my son. And again I followed him on October 31 this year from there to Hanoi, Vietnam. It is a beautiful city. I would like to share some of my experiences here if anyone is interested. Just let me know. If so, I will continue.... Thanks, P