Mr. And Mrs. Saigon

On April 29, 2009, I took Emily to the Los Angeles Farmer's Market for dinner. It had been exactly six months since our first date – which ended with the two of us sitting on a curb in Thai Town eating coconut sticky rice with our hands and talking about life, travels and so many things. By April, we already knew we would get married, it was just a question of time.

I told Emily the Farmer's Market was just a quick dinner on our way to an event. She didn't question it – perhaps because it's conveniently located to so many of LA's nightlife spots and perhaps because we had grabbed cheap eats there before and after things we'd done before.

That's why she was surprised when I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me in the middle of dinner – of what is essentially a food court. Since she had already selected her wedding/engagement ring (she only wanted one – but chose one with three pieces), it was our six month anniversary, we first talked about marriage while eating pizza at the market on New Year's Eve and then we picked out her ring from a jeweler there – I was surprised at how surprised she was.

Luckily, my (our) good friend Conlan (the person, not the dog) was hiding on the sidelines with his camera to document the whole thing.

Today, two years later, Emily and I sat on the edge of a planter on a thoroughfare in Saigon, eating street snacks and talking about where we were. It felt like our first date all over again, only we were in real Asia. It seemed inevitable that we would do something like this – but two and a half years ago, I would never have imagined being here today with her, living this amazing life.

Of course, the day didn't start this way. It started in our dark hole of a room in Singapore. It involved instant coffee, work, emails, calls, packing, errands, taxis – all the stuff that happens on a travel day.

It also started in a clean, modern, English-speaking, first world city and country with manicured landscaping, water you can drink from the tap and incredible infrastructure. Beautiful, beautiful infrastructure.

We don't really think about where we're going and what it will be like anymore. We're usually focused on where we are and what we're doing until suddenly, we're heading to the airport. We put surpringly little thought into what we would find in Ho Chi Minh City – aka Saigon.

Having realized somewhere in the airport terminal that we were actually headed to Vietnam, I decided to read some of the Lonely Planet Vietnam on the flight. But then a nice Singaporean couple our age sat down next to me and we chatted the flight away. Not only were they charming people, but they offered fantastic perspectives on life in Singapore and the way they and their peers approach life. This pair of engineers worry that their careers could be too boring and that work may not always be steady – especially as they advance in increasingly specialized work such as quality control.

One wants to live abroad for awhile, the other wants to stay in Singapore, not needing anything else. However, if they were to go abroad, he could maybe deal with Taiwan since he likes the food and they speak Chinese. Both expressed surprise that America elected Barak Obama – they didn't think a black man would become president. It deeply impressed them. She really liked Ronald Reagan, while both thought Bush Jr. sucked. They had opinions, insights into their country and views of the world. Most importantly, they emphasized that they have to be aware of all world events, because everything affects Singapore.

The flight…flew by…and we landed in Vietnam with little more preparedness than our visas and hotel address. Luckily, nothing was challenging. We breezed through the nice, new airport, got our bags and grabbed a taxi to our hotel.

The past two weeks have been filled with less than thrilling hotels. We usually stay places longer than a week, so it felt weird not to unpack. In Singapore we had a little closet space and in Penang, none at all. Our hotel in Singapore had shockingly rude guests who at different times, slammed doors, smoked in the hallways, yelled down halls at 1 am, and let their two year-olds cry, squeal and run through the halls at 5am. Our hotel in Penang had a barely opaque bathroom door. We'll leave it at that.

We hoped our Saigon hotel would be a little nicer. It turned out to be one of our best hotel rooms. For $42 a night including taxes and breakfast, we have a junior suite filled with beautiful hardwood, a giant king-size bed, panoramic windows with a view of the city and every modern convenience you could want – including great WiFi. We went from bumping into each other getting ready to go out in the morning to spending our time in different rooms of what feels like an apartment.

"I don't really want to leave. I would be fine to stay here all day and just enjoy this," Emily said.

It's true – it was a hard fall from a house in Bali to relatively small hotel rooms – and then a kick in the teeth to pay as much as we did for it in Singapore.

Hotel-wise, Saigon is a nice step up. It's one of those days when you feel a little like an imperialist, but you don't mind. We had no idea how much our money would get us in Vietnam – inside or outside the hotel.

It turns out we overpaid for our taxi from the airport – $15 when it could have been half as much. Our snacks around town cost 40 cents here and 60 cents there – for real, fresh food. A bottle of water cost 20 cents. It's cheaper than Bali.

The truth is, we have no needs, expectations or plans for Saigon – or Vietnam in general. Neither of us have been here before. We have no more than some Vietnam War historical knowledge to guide us. This is the first time since Turkey that we have no linguistic advantage – and it happens to be a country without much English.

We're just going to check it out and absorb some Vietnam. Two years ago, I put a ring on Emily's finger – today, I'll hold her hand as we try to cross the chaotic, unforgiving streets without getting killed.