Two words about the Hong Kong airport: Fancy schmancy. It's huge. And quiet. Not sure if that's because we got there around 9:30pm. It was almost eerie how quiet it was.
Two words about Vietnam Airlines: Super Classy. It was like night and day compared to the Chicago/Hong Kong flight. Where the passengers were extremely rude and loud, the passengers on Vietnam Airlines were quiet and respectful. The same goes for the flight attendants on Vietnam Airlines. They had a strange aura about them, you know, the kind of aura that usually only holy people like priests or nuns have. I definitely felt like I was in a whole other world.
Touching down at Tan Son Nhat in Saigon felt quite surreal to me. Even the aircraft's landing gear striking the runway didn't feel real. What did feel real, almost too real was going through immigration. My Dad initially didn't want to go on this trip because he's extremely outspoken against the communist party in Vietnam, so he was a little paranoid he'd run into some trouble. The immigration official was this young kid. In regular street clothes, he would seem harmless, but something about the green hat and uniform made him seem a little threatening. The immigration official let me and my mom pass, after dumping the $5 we stuck in each of our passports onto a pile of other bribe money. They told my dad to wait as they were processing everything. There was a slight delay, enough to get my mom upset, but in the end it was just a clerical delay and we got through immigration free and clear.

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