SOLO in Vietnam Day 20 : The Mango Manisfestation and The Red Alert

06 Jan 2026

I made a vow to eat like a King (or Queen) for these last few days, and the universe is listening. Yesterday, during my "Mini-Mart Hop," I craved a mango. I didn't buy one, hoping the hotel breakfast would provide. Lo and behold: Mangoes. Manifestation is real, and apparently, it works best for tropical fruit.

But the morning took a chaotic turn. I stood up to get a refill of my coffee, leaving my half-eaten yogurt and my precious mango on the table. When I returned, the table was bare. The staff, efficient to a fault, had cleared everything. I stood there, frowning at the empty space where my joy used to be. The staff panic-read my face. They rushed to the kitchen and returned not with a slice, but with a whole mango. Redemption. I sat back down, the last guest in the dining hall, savoring my victory. But as I watched the staff hurriedly eat their own breakfast and scrape mountains of leftover food into the bin, my mood shifted. It’s a policy, I know. But seeing perfectly good food go to waste twisted something in my gut. It was a reminder of the excess we live in as travelers, while the locals rush to finish a meal before the shift ends.

My mind was clear, but my stomach started to knot. Then I realized why. My "Best Friend from Japan" had arrived. (That’s code for: I am on my period.) Suddenly, the low battery, the body aches, and the "lazy" feelings of the last few days made perfect sense. I wasn't being lazy; I was pre-menstrual. Thank God I listened to my body and didn't book that day trip to Hue or the coffee workshop. My body becomes a total baby when this happens. I went to the pharmacy to restock supplies, grateful that I had chosen rest over ambition. This is the art of travel: knowing when to push and when to pause.

I retreated to the rooftop to blog. The sky was gloomy—sun hidden, clouds heavy—which matched my mood perfectly. Why? Because my phone buzzed with negativity. People in a WhatsApp group back home were throwing Passive-aggresive jabs of me. The hell to them. I am in Vietnam. I am traveling solo. I am living my dream. And yet, I let their petty words ruin the view. But this year, I don't just take it. I reacted. I posted a strict status update, tagging the energy directly. Don't come for me when I'm on my period. I exhaled. I needed my positive energy back. I needed to protect my peace as fiercely as I protected that mango.

In the evening, I sought comfort in the usual place: the bottom of a Salted Coffee cup. A local man, a travel agent, approached me and started speaking rapid-fire Vietnamese. "I am not Vietnamese," I said, for the third time this week. He laughed. "You look local!" We chatted for a while, and he tried to guess my age. He squinted, calculated, and then gave up. "I cannot tell," he admitted. I laughed. Do I look old? Do I look young? Or do I just look like a traveler—timeless, tired, and happy all at once? Maybe I should act more like a child to keep them guessing. Or maybe, the ambiguity is a compliment. I fit everywhere, and I fit nowhere.

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Reflection: The Art of Listening

Today was a masterclass in listening.

Listening to the Body: I wanted to go to Hue, but my body said “No, we are bleeding, sit down.” In the past, I would have pushed through and been miserable because I didn't want to "waste" a day. Today, I stayed put. That is growth.

Listening to the Soul: The drama in the WhatsApp group was noise. I listened to my intuition, set a boundary, and moved on.

Listening to the Universe: I asked for mangoes, and I received mangoes.

Life gets easier when you stop fighting the current and start listening to the water. Whether it’s physical pain or toxic friends, the body and the heart always know when to say "Stop." I learned today that protecting my peace is more important than being polite.

Date: January 6, 2026 Location: Da Nang Mood: Hormonal, Defensive, but Fed.