After more than 25 hours on our flights to Ho Chi Minh City, I was surprised to find that it was very similar to the country where I grew up, India. In many ways, it felt like being right back home.

When I arrived at the OYO and opened the door to my room, I was met with a hard mattress and the familiar smell of humidity. It immediately reminded me of how I sleep when I visit my grandma in India. That moment set the tone for the program. Vietnam didn’t feel foreign; it felt familiar in a quiet, comforting way.

One of the most thought-provoking excursions for me was visiting the Ba Thien Hau Pagoda. I was talking with Xuan (Song), one of our cultural interpreters, about the candle offering ritual. I started questioning the validity and reliability of the practice: how long the candle would burn, what would happen if it rained, and whether a candle getting rained on would bring bad luck. I even wondered if people had to pay extra for their candles to be placed under a sheltered area. Xuan paused and told me he had never really thought about those questions before.

That conversation led me to think more deeply about the wishes themselves. What happens if a foreigner’s wish is translated incorrectly? Which wish comes true: the one written down or the one you hold in your heart? Xuan replied that God definitely knows your heart better than the written wishes. I found it slightly ironic that we still had to write our wishes down for God to “remember,” but that irony made the experience even more meaningful. Why did writing the wish down matter if God already knew my heart?

Another excursion that stayed with me was the War Remnants Museum. What does it really mean to walk through someone else’s history as a visitor? Having visited Vietnam War museums and memorials in Washington, D.C. earlier this summer, it was eye-opening to see the other side of the story. I appreciated that the real effects of the war were not censored and that graphic images and actual remnants were displayed.

However, from my personal observations in how history is taught to communities, I felt the museum could improve its layout. Visitors were able to walk through very quickly, which felt inappropriate given the sensitivity of the material. Especially since many visitors were American tourists, I think talking should be limited, food should not be allowed, and the audio headset should be mandatory. The gift shop being placed at the beginning of the museum also gave the impression that this was just another tourist attraction rather than a space for reflection. I even noticed some visitors smiling and taking photos with tanks and weapons, which felt unsettling. This museum should be treated as a full-day experience to truly process what it holds.

My time at the orphanage ended up being one of the most meaningful parts of the program. I think I personally benefited more from the experience than the kids did. Since they were so young, they will remember the warmth and care we gave them rather than our faces. I was only able to spend one full week with them before I got sick, which initially felt unfortunate. In a way, it turned into a blessing in disguise because I was moved to work in the kitchen.

At first, I avoided the kitchen because I didn’t want to fall into traditional gender roles. But that experience completely shifted my perspective. Cooking for others is a skill, an art and an act of love, not an obligation. I felt proud sharing what I cooked and hearing what others thought of the food. The kitchen staff didn’t let me slip up on any of the procedures, even though they were used to doing the same routines every day. One of the women spoke some English, and as we talked, she realized I wasn’t “American” but Indian. That immediately changed how we connected. She introduced me to Ms. Dragon and Ms. Ruby, and slowly, we became friends. By the end of the program, they were impressed with my skills, and I felt especially honored to earn Ms. Dragon’s approval since she was the hardest to please. It amazed me how much could be communicated through facial expressions, gestures and shared effort.

Throughout the program, I also found myself reflecting on the idea of a “white savior complex.” While I don’t think I strongly held one, I still caught myself wondering if the people around me wanted to be richer, have bigger houses, or live differently. Over time, I realized that regardless of whether they had ambitions for more, they were content in their present lives and genuinely lived in the moment.

Another pattern I noticed while traveling in Asian countries is the honesty and hospitality, regardless of background. One morning, after buying bánh mì, I started walking away when the woman selling it stopped me and scolded me for having my bag open. That small act of care stayed.

One unexpected learning moment came when I got sick. I started showing flu-like symptoms, but tried to push through and even invited the translators out for dinner. I ended up getting worse and developed a fever, forcing me to cancel. I only informed one translator because she was the one I had coordinated with. Later, another translator told me she felt hurt that she heard about it from someone else instead of me directly. Looking back, she was right. It was my responsibility to update everyone, even if it was late. I apologized and made plans to meet again once I felt better. That experience taught me how communication, even when unintentional, carries emotional weight across cultures.

This experience reinforced my desire to engage in global learning in a more intentional and reflective way. Moving forward, I want to participate in programs that prioritize community-centered learning rather than short-term service. I am especially interested in opportunities that focus on education, cultural exchange and how histories are preserved and taught to local communities and visitors.

I hope to continue exploring how educational institutions such as museums, cultural institutions and community spaces can be designed to be more ethical, accessible and respectful, especially in countries that are often viewed through a Western lens. Rather than approaching global experiences with the goal of “helping,” I want to approach them with the goal of listening, learning and building mutual understanding, and learning by doing rather than memorization. Vietnam showed me that global learning is not about how different a place is, but how deeply you are willing to engage with it.

Now that my grandma is visiting the U.S., I find myself showing her YouTube videos of Vietnam, while my mom watched those same videos when I was there, and even now, I still watch them with her, because I miss Vietnam. I didn’t expect a place I was only in for a short time to stay with me like this.

This program would not have meant what it did without the generosity of the Vietnamese people, who welcomed me with care, honesty and a sense of belonging that I will carry with me long after leaving and quietly return to when I need it.

---

Learn more about this blogger’s study abroad program: Community-Driven Education in Vietnam