Please don’t be offended.
It wasn’t the food, the people or the heat, or even the jet lag that made my trip to Vietnam unbearable.
It was the mosquitoes…
My sister escaped with a few harmless bites—tiny red dots that faded by morning. I wasn’t so lucky. Within hours, my skin had erupted in swollen welts the size of golf balls.
In Vietnam, the swelling became so extreme that the shoes I had packed from home no longer fit. I had to hobble to a market to buy a new pair, one size larger.
I could no longer wear the sneakers I had packed; my feet had swollen so much they barely resembled feet at all. I couldn’t even slip into the leather Rainbow flip-flops. I wobbled to the markets and stalls searching for slide slippers that had velcro so I can adjust them to however fat my feet were that day.
Shorts were also out of the question, or so I thought. You have to cover your skin if you don’t want to get bit, right? In a desperate attempt to shield myself, I switched to jeans, but the mosquitoes bit straight through the denim. And every step became a new kind of agony, the rough fabric scraping against my inflamed skin. Either way I was going to get bitten. I switched back to shorts, so at least I didn’t have anything scrape up against the pusy bites every time I walked.
Next time, I think I’ll try a different strategy: long, loose maxi skirts—flowy enough to keep the fabric away from my legs, and long enough to prevent the mosquitoes from flying up inside. Ooh… but what about my feet and ankles?
This has happened before… in my own hometown– every year. I had always thought I was “sensitive” to mosquito bites, but a quick search on Dr. Google suggested otherwise: Skeeter syndrome, a rare allergic reaction to mosquito saliva.
Back home, when this happens (and it happens every mosquito season), I rush to urgent care. Doctors usually take one look, exclaim something like, “Oh, wow,” but I think their brain’s exclaiming, “Holy shit!” and administer a steroid shot that shrinks the swelling and relieves the pain within hours.
In Vietnam, when I asked for the same treatment, the hospital staff stared at me in confusion. Steroid shots for mosquito bites? Not available. Actually… steroid shots in Vietnam? “Are you nuts!?” The local pharmacies sold insect repellents, but they were no match for the clouds of mosquitoes that seemed magnetically drawn to me. They’re made from… orange peels!? Now you’re just shitting me.
It was miserable.
The only luck I had was not getting bitten in the face!
My aunt once said it’s because I’m “so sweet,” but honestly, I would trade every ounce of sweetness to be rid of this allergy.
It’s been years now, but I still think about that trip—and the dozens of photographs of my ballooning hands, feet, and face that needed to be photoshopped before I posted them on Instagram. Despite everything, I still dream of traveling through Asia— but never again, Vietnam.
If anyone has advice—serious advice—for surviving mosquito season abroad with an allergy like mine, I’m all ears.
Vietnam is a highly recommended destination, and if you’re an adventurer, you should at least go once. As for me? I’ve been.
I am so sad to say… Never again, Vietnam.