Diary 58

05.26.26

Visited my friend Jezabeth at High Desert Test Sites, a non-profit arts organization based in Joshua Tree that hosts residencies throughout the year. It’s a beautiful, functional space that harnesses holistic design to invite the desert in rather than shut it out. Literally, they found a rattlesnake under the kitchen and had to call @high_desert_dani to phish it out. Apparently she’s the local rattlesnake wrangler & expert in charge of humanely relocating the snakes when they venture under truck hoods, onto children’s playgrounds, into houses, etc.

My time with Jezabeth was brief, but full. We drove to the Giant Rock, grabbed dinner & drinks at The Tiny Pony, and slept butt-to-butt on a full size mattress in the all-engulfing silence of the desert. Grateful to have friendships that feel durable and layered, that refuse surface level interpretation and evolve over time, through every version of ourselves.

05.29.26

Woke up at 7 a.m. to a cacophony of car horns and motorbike engines, feeling a little disoriented and jet-lagged. We’re in Hanoi, Vietnam, and plan to spend the next few days eating street food and aimlessly walking. I always do some basic planning before a trip—making a list of museums I’d like to visit and restaurants I’d like to try—but mostly tend to move intuitively, impulsively. I think the best way to really immerse yourself in a new city is to get lost in it.

This morning we found a street market nearby, where vendors sell fruit, flowers, raw meat, and other local produce. I passed what appeared to be a small woman wearing rubber boots up to her knees, then turned around to get a better look, and realized she was squatting on the sidewalk to chop a fish carcass, blood spilling out at her feet. She no longer looked small at all. I saw many women like her afterwards chopping beef and pork with cleavers twice the size of their hands. First impression: the women here are tough (and all seem to be remarkably comfortable wielding big knives!).

05.31.26

We’ve walked through the market the last three mornings, and each day I’ve noticed different vendors. Today I stopped by two women selling seafood: live fish the size of dollar bills, oysters, snails, crawfish, and other critters I didn’t recognize. Most of them were still alive and moving; iridescent, wet little creatures in baskets splayed around the sidewalk. Further down the street, I saw three elderly Vietnamese women trimming rose stems, talking among themselves, with a cage of live chickens sitting next to them.

My favorite experience so far, though, has been eating at street stalls. Imagine a tiny seating area, low plastic stools just a couple inches off the ground, bright sterile lighting and no air conditioning, just fans blowing hot air around. Every table is equipped with a bowl of minced garlic and chilies. Sometimes you know what it is you’re getting and sometimes you’re taking a wild guess. The other night, we ordered pho tai and received two fried dough sticks that looked akin to shrimp tempura. JT asked if it was, indeed, shrimp, and our waiter just smiled and replied “Quay.” He said it with such certainty that both of us pretended to understand— “Ahh, yes, of course. Quay.” We later learned that it really is just fried dough, which you dip into the broth and eat with your pho.

06.01.26

Finally tried Cha Ca La Vong, a dish originating from Hanoi that I’ve been wanting to try. It’s charcoal-grilled catfish marinated in turmeric, galangal, fermented rice and other spices, served with noodles, peanuts, and a heaping portion of dill & scallions. Also a light, vinegary fish sauce on the side. It was the most flavorful meal I’ve had so far. Been desperate to eat it again.

06.03.26

Yesterday we took a bus to Sa Pa, a mountain town further north (just 30 miles from the border of China) described as “the city of mist.” We’re staying on a rice paddy with a sweeping view of the mountains. At night you can hear frogs, crickets, cicadas. Vastly different from Hanoi.

The Hmong and Red Dao minorities live here. I’ve already seen them along the road. The Red Dao women wear red scarves or bandanas on their heads and have the sides shaved. The Hmong women wear big silver hoop earrings, multiples in each lobe, stretched like gauges. They’re strikingly beautiful.

06.04.26

Rented a motorbike which has been a lifesaver now that we’re in a rural area. It’s the most efficient form of transportation, and also the most exhilarating. I’ve loved observing the town this way, with the wind in my hair and fresh air in my lungs. From our homestay, we have to go up into the mountains to get to downtown Sa Pa, so you’ll come around a bend and suddenly have a view of the entire landscape: rice terraces carved into the mountains, a rushing river, water buffalo grazing. I don’t want to butcher the view by attempting to describe it here. But it’s truly ethereal.

BELOW— some photos JT’s taken on his Widelux.