After Hue, I was curious to see what Hanoi could possibly offer . . .
Thinking on it, it’s amazing how much of Vietnam I’ve seen in the last few weeks. I don’t know that I thought I’d see so much and be here so long, but it’s been a wonderful experience.
Hanoi. Another bustling city, smaller than Ho Chi Minh, and less developed, but equally overwhelming. In Hanoi, the streets are narrower, so the motobikes ride on the sidewalk to escape the traffic on the street. You just feel the chaos a bit more here. But, what makes Hanoi a little more charming than Ho Chi Minh are the lakes, Hoan Kiem in the center of the city, and West Lake in the north. Both are expansive and offer a bit of tranquility amidst the frenzy of the surrounding city. Most of my time was spent in the Hoan Kiem district, north of the lake, in the Old City. I literally spent hours wandering the streets, getting lost, getting found and watching the people live their daily lives. Continually fascinated by how the Vietnamese live, observing them has been my favorite part of traveling Vietnam.
Now, while there are so many wonderful Vietnamese people who smile these huge, friendly smiles at you as you pass, want to talk to you, want you to listen to their stories, there are an equal amount of annoying, ridiculous Vietnamese people who you want to strangle b/c they’re so eager to please (story in a bit – my Halong Bay tour guide), or on the other end of the spectrum, so eager to scam you, that you just lose patience. My first moment in Hanoi was one of those experiences. My taxi driver. A kid, possibly sixteen years old MAX, was driving me from the airport to Hanoi. While many of the taxis advertised being metered rides, the meters are often rigged so they charged at a higher rate. Getting into his taxi, I said, real meter or high meter?? “Meter, Meter. Correct. Meter,” was the answer I got in return. Ok, fine…let’s just get to the hotel. “Vietnam happy you here, lady. What you hotel?” I tell him. Fine. About ten minutes into the ride, “16” turns around again, “What hotel you say?” I tell him again. Turns around again. “Music? Me like music.” Me: “Sure.” Well, I wouldn’t have agreed had I know he was about to render his own rendition of all the songs he put on. “16” started singing at the top of his lungs to Seal-like Vietnamese classics that sounded like “Kiss From a Rose,” or “Future Love Paradise.” I mean, save-your-shit-for-shower-or-when-you-don’t-have-a-passenger BELTING out song, kids. I almost died. I couldn’t even laugh, I was so annoyed. And we’re stopped dead in traffic. And, we’re only ten minutes into the 45-minute drive and already the meter is higher than the whole ride should cost. Needless to say, when I got to the hotel (2 whole discs of tortures later), the concierge took care of me, making sure I only gave him ¼ of the actual fare on the meter b/c he was scamming me AND made me listen to his puberty-ridden falsetto the entire way.
My sightseeing in Hanoi, with respect to the war, consisted of visiting the Hanoi Hilton and the Army Museum. Since I was in the North of the country, the slant is so pro-Communism. At the Hanoi Hilton, the holding tank for downed pilots (most famously John McCain – who was an inmate for SIX years), there’s a room that depicts the American experience at the Hanoi Hilton. The captions under the photos are ridiculous. They say things like:
“American pilots wearing loose, comfortable, clothing that they enjoyed.”
(pilots in prison issued uniforms)
“Happy American pilots receiving mail and presents from their loved ones at home.”
(getting mail – one assumes. That is what is depicted in the photo.)
“American pilots walking with polite Vietnamese soldiers on quiet city streets.”
(being led, heads down through people-packed streets, to their new home at the prison)
“American pilots singing joyful songs of their hometown at evening get togethers.”
(a prisoner with a guitar)
I was laughing out loud going through, as the photos are rare moments of normalcy (possibly) that have been caught on film, with narration. Mind you, only THESE are the photos that are plastered on the walls of the Hanoi Hilton of the Vietnam War. You KNOW what side is telling the story here. Interesting to see. Then, I went to the Army Museum, which also showcases the North Vietnamese struggle during the French and American wars. I’m in Hanoi, I completely understand that the war is going to be told their perspective, 100%. But, at the Army Museum, I found a virtual graveyard of downed American warcraft, with corresponding facts like, location destroyed, date, Vietnamese lieutenants names, # of enemy KILLED in each mission – very disturbing. The outside of the museum is a trophy chest of such machinery, in the middle standing a HUGE plane, tail-end up, layers upon layers of mangled metal, that perished and is preserved on site. It’s very sobering to see all of this, PROUDLY displayed.
Having had enough of the war, I decided to go to see the Water Puppets Show. Water puppetry is a Vietnamese folk art that has persevered through the years. Everyone told me that I HAD to go to see the Water Puppets while in Hanoi. Now, I was very torn on whether to bother doing this or not. I’ve never been a big puppet fan, whether the puppet being of the marionette or sock-on-hand variety. I wasn’t the child who engaged in puppet shows as recreation. I stuck more to playing house or doctor. And, as an adult, I have vehemently refused to see Avenue Q (I know, Kim….I’m still very sorry), after seeing The Lion King where they use sticks to make Lion puppets over their heads which I found VERY distracting and made for a sub-par evening of theater. Add to all of that (as if it’s not enough of a reason NOT to go), I’m not into Asian dance, music, theater, for the most part. Don’t think me closed-minded, please. I just know what I’m going to have patience for. And, as you all might’ve guessed, the Water Puppets of Hanoi – yeah, not so much. I walked out. Puppets + Vietnamese song + WATER (?) = MISERY. And yet, all the people around me were clapping as if they were watching the Royal Ballet perform Swan Lake. I just don’t get. And….. I’m very much OK with that. ☺
On my last day in Hanoi, I went to see all the sights decided to the life of Ho Chi Minh, or Uncle Ho, as the Vietnamese refer to him. He is so revered, so loved in this country, especially here in Hanoi, that contrary to his wishes to be cremated, HCM’s body is actually preserved and on display Tues-Thurs-Sat and Sunday mornings. (But, not during the months of August thru October, when he is sent out for “maintenance.”) The whole experience was interesting. Considering he’s HCM, you’d think there would be more security, but because the people honor him and his teachings to the letter, there isn’t need for “high” security, nobody would DARE dishonor HCM in his resting place. Imagine the same for George Bush? HA… Anyway, I had to borrow a long sleeve shirt, out of respect – a pretty yellow chiffon number – to view the body and then you walk in a single file line to the mausoleum, up many levels of red-carpeted stairs, into a square, cool marble room, with a glass tomb. There lies a spot-lighted, smiling Uncle Ho. Maintained. It’s all a little weird, but also, incredibly fascinating.
From Hanoi, I took a day trip to Halong Bay, about four hours to the east. Here, rising up from the clearest emerald colored water are about 3000 limestone formations, many of which house caves that are wonderlands of stalagmite and stalagtite. Also on the bay, are villages, where Vietnamese people live in houseboats, fishing for their livelihood. Amazing and beautiful place. Sobering to view such daily life. But, in the ‘annoying Vietnamese that try too hard category’ is Hai (pronounced “Hi”), my tour guide. Hai is thirty, and according to him “single but not sure why” and Vietnamese born. Here’s the catch: Hai speaks like he’s lived in London his whole life. Like, grating, put your fingers in your ears to make it stop, cockneyed London accent spoken in movies like Snatch, Trainspotting, etc… And guess why? That’s where Hai learned his English from. THOSE MOVIES. When he first spoke, I thought he was imitating the English couple on the tour. Then, he kept talking like that – using words like posh and bullocks and snog, asking the couple if his English is “up to snuff” and if they would like some “fish and chips” for lunch instead of the Vietnamese “grog” they serve on the boat. And this continued ALL DAY LONG. Everytime he spoke, if I closed my eyes, there was a skinny, crooked-tooth, fair-skinned white guy with a skull cap and week’s worth of scruff, a mug of beer in one hand, cigarette in the other, staring back at me.
Finally, I took an overnight train to Sapa, or the rice-terraces up north. Getting into my overnight carriage, I’m greeted by “Kay and Alan from Connecticut.” Kay immediately gives me a sick attitude because my bag doesn’t fit under the beds in the compartment, out of her eyesight. Does it matter? It’s next to my bed, she can walk and get up w/o touching it. We’re sleeping for the duration – it’s 10 PM, we arrive at 6 AM – are you doing seniors yoga in the crawl space, Kay???
Me: “Is this really a problem for you?”
Kay: “Well, it’s huuuuge. It’s in my way and maybe you should just put it on your bed.”
Me: I’m not putting it ON my bed. And how, exactly, is it in your way?”
Kay: Well…. (looks away from me and to the upper bunk to her husband) Aaaallllaaan, it’s HUGE. I’m just going to take a pill so I don’t have to deal with it. (Back to me) I just think it’s very large.”
Me: And why does that concern you? You’re going to sleep, no? Didn’t you just say you’re going to “take a pill?”
Alan: “You do that, Kay. Take your pill.” (Rolls eyes at me.)
I’m still sick, have NO patience for whiny moms from CT to survey my baggage issues, so I turn to her, give her a disgusting forced smile and go “Oh, and goodnight.” She never spoke again. Success. The Marie you all know and love. Hehe….
Sapa turned out to be a mess. It was 20 degrees tops because of how the wind was coming off of China while I was there. I had wifebeaters, a North Face and bronchitis to keep me warm. So, I never left my hotel room for two days except to eat soup in the restaurant, sleeping off my illness.
Onto Thailand. Vietnam was awesome, but I think I’m ready for a change…
More soon…
xoxoxo
Showing posts with label Vietnam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vietnam. Show all posts
Monday, January 23, 2006
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Long/Luong/Loong
It’s funny how when you expect the worst, you always wind up surprising yourself and having a blast.
For me, that was what Hue was all about.
I arrived into Hue after sleeping late in Hoi An to TRY to shake this latest bout of bronchitis that has plagued me since Argentina. Coughing the entire way, I was tired and cranky, and when I got to town, the backpacker’s strip was congested and dirty and I just had no energy for it. Part of the crazyness of Vietnam is beating off the natives hawking their hotels, fruits, silks, motobike and cyclo rides, tour packages, etc..etc..etc... Within minutes of the bus pulling into the stop, there were AT LEAST 15 men yelling at me (on the bus, mind you – in MY personal space):
“Missus, where you stay?”
“You have hotel?”
"Excuse me, excuse me. I talk to you."
“See my hotel. Cheap.”
“Where you stay expensive? Me, not expensive.”
“Miss America, look here.”
“USA lady, I have good place.”
On top of the verbal harassment, they’re pushing their flyers, held by dirty, long-ass fingernails in my face and breathing their stenchy, nasty, smoky mouth’s smells onto me. I just lost it.
“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!! I have a hotel, get out of my way, stop touching me! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!” Pushing through them with my backpack, my wheelie, my sick little body. Just fuck the fuck off, people! OH MY GOD. I can’t deal…. I just wanted to be home in my apartment, under my yummy down covers, matzoh ball soup and toast and TROPICANA O.J. having been just consumed, half-watching Oprah on TiVo and half-dozing. Away from Vietnam, away from all the goddamn people.
After getting to my hotel, going for a QUICK dinner of noodle soup (here it’s called “pho”), and putting myself to bed, I awoke the next day, still not even close to 100%. So, I cancelled the DMZ tour (demilitarization zone tour – a visit to the 17th parallel and Vinh Moc tunnels) that would go from 6 AM to 8 PM and slept in. I just couldn’t handle another long, tourist bus day of war sites, tunnels, and depression after seeing all of it. What would I do today? Me, without a plan? Everyone comes to Hue to see the DMZ zone, which I’ve been told is less than exciting and similar to Cu Chi. What else do they do here? I’m unprepared. Shit. I’m not good at unprepared. So at 10 AM, I ventured out, not exactly sure what my day would entail.
As I walked along the Perfume River, which divides Hue into two sides, I saw a prettier side of the city. The riverbank was lined with modern art plazas, the sun was shining, the hawkers were less obvious. I figured I’d check out the Imperial City or Citadel (much like the Forbidden City in China), a fortress city that belonged to the emperors of the Nguyen dynasties of Hue through the ages. But because Hue saw the most attacks in both the French and American wars, much of the Imperial City was destroyed. I was curious. As I was about to find a taxi, I was approached by a really sweet cyclo driver (cyclos being little one-seat carriages with a bicycle on the back that a driver pedals to get you from place to place). He introduced himself, started talking to me like a person, not a vendor and won my ride. I jumped in and let Long (possibly spelled Luong or Loong – one can never know here) pedal me across the river to the Imperial City.
There I spent a few hours in awed wonder at this massive enclosed city, blasted in most places to smithereens by war. But the architecture that survived was amazing. The temples and living quarters, just divine. Long/Luong/Loong had promised to pick me up after my tour of the Imperial City, to take me onto the Thien Mu Pagoda, and then, the tombs of the past emperors of Hue. I was game.
Long/Luong/Loong came back a bit different. He traded in his cyclo for a motobike. His floppy fisherman’s hat for a baseball cap. Waving like a madman as I exited the Citadel, he wore a huge grin and said:
“Mawie, you ride motobike, yes?”
I didn’t even hesitate. My friend Chris and I rode one back from an outskirt bar in Hoi An a few nights back and, the thing to do here in Vietnam that I had resisted on a safety kick, it was a blast (and I’ve always been a sucker for a guy on a bike…not that Long/Luong/Loong was really doing it for me…).
“Of course…”
So began my day motobiking around the villages surrounding Hue, as well as the tombs (or small towns with temples, lakes, residences, courtyards) built for past emperors. I asked Long/Luong/Loong to take me to see how the people really lived, off the tour bus circuit, as we traversed Hue and beyond to get to each tomb (they’re spread over a 30 km radius outside of the city limits). It was amazing. We rode through forest towns on dirt roads, through tiny villages preparing for Tet or Lunar New Year by hanging decorations on their makeshift doorways. I talked to little roadside water vendors who had family in the States and they had been saving for 15 years (!!) for a visa.
“Three more years and I go to San Jose,” said one.
“My brother send for me soon to come to California,” said another.
And everyone was so happy to shake my hand, to talk to me, to hear about America. It was absolutely wonderful to be communicating with these people, so easily and effortlessly. Then, to hop back on a bike, ride along the Perfume River (which is really beautiful) and just feel outside of the Vietnam that had me tearing my hair out yesterday, was so refreshing.
At the end of the day, I asked Long/Luong/Loong to take me for his favorite Vietnamese meal. He took me to some joint that would’ve had all of you balking and calling the Board of Health. But, it was absolutely the most delicious food and drink I’ve had here. For $1.35. And Long sat with me and told me about his family (my age, three children – oldest is 14!), and his life, the stall his wife tends to at the Central Market, how happy he is here in Vietnam. I hung on every mispronounced word. Then, he dropped me back at my hotel, 7 hours after we met, with a handshake, a “happy new year,” and a “you a cool girl, marie….luck in travels tomorrow.” Talk about feeling great after a long day….
Hue. Perfect.
xo
For me, that was what Hue was all about.
I arrived into Hue after sleeping late in Hoi An to TRY to shake this latest bout of bronchitis that has plagued me since Argentina. Coughing the entire way, I was tired and cranky, and when I got to town, the backpacker’s strip was congested and dirty and I just had no energy for it. Part of the crazyness of Vietnam is beating off the natives hawking their hotels, fruits, silks, motobike and cyclo rides, tour packages, etc..etc..etc... Within minutes of the bus pulling into the stop, there were AT LEAST 15 men yelling at me (on the bus, mind you – in MY personal space):
“Missus, where you stay?”
“You have hotel?”
"Excuse me, excuse me. I talk to you."
“See my hotel. Cheap.”
“Where you stay expensive? Me, not expensive.”
“Miss America, look here.”
“USA lady, I have good place.”
On top of the verbal harassment, they’re pushing their flyers, held by dirty, long-ass fingernails in my face and breathing their stenchy, nasty, smoky mouth’s smells onto me. I just lost it.
“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!! I have a hotel, get out of my way, stop touching me! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!” Pushing through them with my backpack, my wheelie, my sick little body. Just fuck the fuck off, people! OH MY GOD. I can’t deal…. I just wanted to be home in my apartment, under my yummy down covers, matzoh ball soup and toast and TROPICANA O.J. having been just consumed, half-watching Oprah on TiVo and half-dozing. Away from Vietnam, away from all the goddamn people.
After getting to my hotel, going for a QUICK dinner of noodle soup (here it’s called “pho”), and putting myself to bed, I awoke the next day, still not even close to 100%. So, I cancelled the DMZ tour (demilitarization zone tour – a visit to the 17th parallel and Vinh Moc tunnels) that would go from 6 AM to 8 PM and slept in. I just couldn’t handle another long, tourist bus day of war sites, tunnels, and depression after seeing all of it. What would I do today? Me, without a plan? Everyone comes to Hue to see the DMZ zone, which I’ve been told is less than exciting and similar to Cu Chi. What else do they do here? I’m unprepared. Shit. I’m not good at unprepared. So at 10 AM, I ventured out, not exactly sure what my day would entail.
As I walked along the Perfume River, which divides Hue into two sides, I saw a prettier side of the city. The riverbank was lined with modern art plazas, the sun was shining, the hawkers were less obvious. I figured I’d check out the Imperial City or Citadel (much like the Forbidden City in China), a fortress city that belonged to the emperors of the Nguyen dynasties of Hue through the ages. But because Hue saw the most attacks in both the French and American wars, much of the Imperial City was destroyed. I was curious. As I was about to find a taxi, I was approached by a really sweet cyclo driver (cyclos being little one-seat carriages with a bicycle on the back that a driver pedals to get you from place to place). He introduced himself, started talking to me like a person, not a vendor and won my ride. I jumped in and let Long (possibly spelled Luong or Loong – one can never know here) pedal me across the river to the Imperial City.
There I spent a few hours in awed wonder at this massive enclosed city, blasted in most places to smithereens by war. But the architecture that survived was amazing. The temples and living quarters, just divine. Long/Luong/Loong had promised to pick me up after my tour of the Imperial City, to take me onto the Thien Mu Pagoda, and then, the tombs of the past emperors of Hue. I was game.
Long/Luong/Loong came back a bit different. He traded in his cyclo for a motobike. His floppy fisherman’s hat for a baseball cap. Waving like a madman as I exited the Citadel, he wore a huge grin and said:
“Mawie, you ride motobike, yes?”
I didn’t even hesitate. My friend Chris and I rode one back from an outskirt bar in Hoi An a few nights back and, the thing to do here in Vietnam that I had resisted on a safety kick, it was a blast (and I’ve always been a sucker for a guy on a bike…not that Long/Luong/Loong was really doing it for me…).
“Of course…”
So began my day motobiking around the villages surrounding Hue, as well as the tombs (or small towns with temples, lakes, residences, courtyards) built for past emperors. I asked Long/Luong/Loong to take me to see how the people really lived, off the tour bus circuit, as we traversed Hue and beyond to get to each tomb (they’re spread over a 30 km radius outside of the city limits). It was amazing. We rode through forest towns on dirt roads, through tiny villages preparing for Tet or Lunar New Year by hanging decorations on their makeshift doorways. I talked to little roadside water vendors who had family in the States and they had been saving for 15 years (!!) for a visa.
“Three more years and I go to San Jose,” said one.
“My brother send for me soon to come to California,” said another.
And everyone was so happy to shake my hand, to talk to me, to hear about America. It was absolutely wonderful to be communicating with these people, so easily and effortlessly. Then, to hop back on a bike, ride along the Perfume River (which is really beautiful) and just feel outside of the Vietnam that had me tearing my hair out yesterday, was so refreshing.
At the end of the day, I asked Long/Luong/Loong to take me for his favorite Vietnamese meal. He took me to some joint that would’ve had all of you balking and calling the Board of Health. But, it was absolutely the most delicious food and drink I’ve had here. For $1.35. And Long sat with me and told me about his family (my age, three children – oldest is 14!), and his life, the stall his wife tends to at the Central Market, how happy he is here in Vietnam. I hung on every mispronounced word. Then, he dropped me back at my hotel, 7 hours after we met, with a handshake, a “happy new year,” and a “you a cool girl, marie….luck in travels tomorrow.” Talk about feeling great after a long day….
Hue. Perfect.
xo
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Good Morning Vietnam, Part Two.
Ok, hi -- I'm back.
After recovering from the unbelievable culture shock of Ho Chi Minh City, as NOTHING is familiar on this side of the world, I began to adapt to the city. I would even say that by the time I left, I came to really like it. Over the four days I spent there I think I saw all the city has to offer, historically and currently. Joy took me around town on a whirlwind city tour, starting with the markets that were brimming with vendors begging you to browse their booths. Everyone approaches you to enter their shops "Lady, come into my shop" and there's so much stuff everywhere. I have no idea how any one shop could ever sell all of the merchandise they have, there's just so much junk!! She also took me to eat authentic Vietnamese food at a little, non-descript outdoor restaurant in a back alley that I would NEVER have found on my own. We munched on Vietnamese pancakes -- a fried-ish pancake that's a cross between bread and egg consistencies, filled with noodles, bean sprouts, shrimp, pork -- that you wrap in giant lettuce leaves and dip into chili sauce. Rice paper spring rolls (not fried and so fresh) and bamboo, shrimp and pork salad. All so good, and things I would never know to choose to try had I not had her as a guide. Another night we ate Vietnamese BBQ ($20 total for ALL of us to have about 4-5 main dishes and appetizers) where they bring you the prawns (here, shrimp are those tiny little guys, prawns are the meaty big suckers) LIVE in a clear pot and you have to cook them at the table while they freak out and jump around the pot as they, um....die, then eat them (Lukoff, you would've been VERY upset). All in all, B&J helped me appreciate Vietnamese daily life in a way I couldn't have done as a mere tourist.
Speaking of being a tourist, I spent two days at all the "sites" of HCMC. Day one was spent at the Cu Chi Tunnels, Reunification Palace, the War Remnants Museum and other war-related places. Day two was spent along the Mekong River Delta, glimpsing that kind of Vietnamese life. The day that focused on the war was actually a very depressing day. I don't think, no matter how much you read, watched, saw, heard about the war, you can REALLY get a feeling for it, without seeing the actual places and ways in which the war was fought. At Cu Chi, there are preserved bomb sites, remains of demolished US tanks, man-made booby traps that look like the ground of the forest (but you step into and fall into spikes), torture devices, and foxholes (that you can actually get into, cover with leaves, and go undetected). It's all part of the perspective that you come away from Cu Chi with, but the most surreal experience is crawling through the Cu Chi Tunnels. The tunnels were used by the North Vietnamese to attack Saigon. The intricate underground tunnels are 90 ft deep, each "level" 30 ft lower than the one above and are comprised of passageways, living spaces, weapons arsenals, sleeping and cooking facilities. We were able to replicate a crawl through the tunnels. You slowly descend via hidden staircases into tunnels AT MOST 3x3 feet. Then, you crouch through them. After about 400 feet of sweltering hot, twisting, turning darkness, you come to another descent, and go down another 30 feet to crawl space where you are on your hands and knees. I cannot even begin to describe how I felt doing that. Completely overwhelmed, locked in my head, even nervous at points. I was emotional at the idea that people actually lived this way in order to preserve their country's way of life. Then, you emerge into the fresh air again and you have crossed what might be the length of a football field, undetected. It's VERY frightening when you put that in the context of war. After seeing all of that, the range of ways that Ho Chi Minh's forces confounded the US forces, it's no wonder they won. Of course, being in Vietnam, a Communist country, it's very obvious that there's a slant against the American forces when you visit these sites. But, nevertheless, it didn't dull the sad feeling I had all day. How anyone can visit Vietnam and not reconsider their feelings on American led war efforts, in any region, is beyond me. Let's just say that I did a lot of thinking that day about wars that are waged on countries that might not be in our best interests to fight.
After Ho Chi Minh, I headed north to Nha Trang by bus for 2 nights. Nha Trang is a beach town, ala Jersey Shore. Very cheesy, lacking charm, mediocre restaurants but beautiful beaches. Sorry, my Jersey friends.... The trip up to Nha Trang was pretty uneventful until my Ipod ran out of batteries and the little Aussie kid in the seat in front of me who had no idea what the concept of "quiet time for 6 hours on a bus because the people around you have NO escape" was decided to use his "flashers" (flash cards with the alphabet on them) to name a word for each letter. About 15 times. I don't know how many times his parents could hear 'e is for elephant' or 'i is for iguana' without wanting to kill him. I give you ALL credit. You know who you are.... ;) On arrival in Nha Trang, I checked into my hotel, then headed out for a meal. I was STARVING as I hadn't really eaten all day. Outside of the food I ate with Joy, I really still haven't gotten eating in Asia down to a science. And tonight was no different. The soup could've passed for dishwater, the tuna could've been name-your-nastiest-meat-here, and the dim, lovely, candlelit ambience of the Sailing Club restaurant didn't help me IDENTIFY my food or see the bugs eating my legs alive so I looked like a sea-faring victim of scurvy by meal's end, so I merely went hungry (and itchy). Yet again. I am so determined to learn to eat Vietnamese, Thai, Indian food, and yet.....I'm having a hard time in my mastery. Upside, weight loss. Downside, starvation never really agreed with me. What I'd give for a chicken parm right about now....
The Sailing Club restaurant also fancies itself a beach club, so the next day, I went there to lay out on the beach in style. The beach chairs were amazing -- oversized and comfy -- and the people watching, fantastic. Still hungry, I tried a burger this time, thinking maybe ordering something I know will work for me. No dice. It was shit, too. But, what wound up being great about Nha Trang was that I got to feel like a traveler again. Starting in Nha Trang, I was on my own again. No Joy or Brian to help guide me and it felt nice. In SEAsia, such a well-trodden path, people abound and, likely, they're on the same tour as you are. So, I met Rich and Michael, two Aussies on their way up to Hoi An like me. We decided to take an overnight train together. Through them, I met Emma and Lee. Girls from NZ, same route. Adam, Johnny and Johnny's cousin (can't remember name...), who I'm bound to see through Cambodia in Feb. It's just this undercurrent of people, repeating in each place, making it comfortable. For me (now in Hoi An with many of the abovementioned folk), that part of this trip began in Nha Trang at the Sailing Club where all the travelers go for their night's kicks. It was also at the Sailing Club that I had my Page Six moment, the first this trip....
So, I'm sitting with a bunch of people and two very pretty blonds pull up chairs next to me. They had been with my group the night before. We start talking, they're both 30 as well, men, life, blah blah blah... And, as we're talking, people keep coming up to Natalie. I'm half paying attention b/c I'm talking to Tanya (Natalie's friend), and finally it hits me.
Me: Natalie -- are people asking you for AUTOGRAPHS?
Natalie: Nah, yeah. Whatever.
Tanya: Yes, they 100% are.
Me: WHO ARE YOU? Are you a little star in another country that I don't know about?
Natalie: It's no big deal.
Tanya: Yes, she's on a soap called Neighbours.
Natalie: Yes, yes...but it's nothing.
Tanya: And she is a pop-star in Australia, she has a hit now on the charts.
Turns out that Natalie is Natalie Bassingthwaighte, following the career paths of Kylie Minogue and Natalie Imbruglia who started on Neighbours and now, are pop stars, as you likely know. This Natalie is on a similar track. And, she was lovely. Just so normal and down to earth, having her holiday with a friend through Vietnam. We hung out through the Sailing Club nights and just talked about life. When I told Sarah (from Sydney) that I met her and showed her all the pictures, she keeled over with delight, rattling off a bunch of facts about Natalie like any of us would do about Gwyneth or Brad and Angelina. That'll be valid for Page Six in about 6 years when Natalie makes it in the US, but for now, that's my brush with celebrity...
Hoi An is where I'm at now, taking a night to myself after two long (and wonderful) days with sweet Sarah from Argentina who's traveling SEAsia too. We met here and took some time in the made-to-order-tailoring capital of the region laying at the pool of my ultra-fabulous hotel, running around getting clothes made (1 suit, 2 skirts, 3 shirts, 2 dresses), avoiding the hordes of locals by saying "No speak English" (it's hilarious - they have NO idea what to do with that, and actually, leave you alone!), and wound up in somebody's garage outside of town that they call "Dream Bar, Good Shit" (since Hoi An closes at around 11 PM, officially) drinking jam jars of "wodka" juice until 4 AM with a hot Aussie named Chris. Amazing to be with Sarah. It's like we left each other in Argentina yesterday, the familiar is good and we have a blast together. Tomorrow, I head up to Hue, then Hanoi. Tonight, time for bed.
More from the north....
xoxo
~M
After recovering from the unbelievable culture shock of Ho Chi Minh City, as NOTHING is familiar on this side of the world, I began to adapt to the city. I would even say that by the time I left, I came to really like it. Over the four days I spent there I think I saw all the city has to offer, historically and currently. Joy took me around town on a whirlwind city tour, starting with the markets that were brimming with vendors begging you to browse their booths. Everyone approaches you to enter their shops "Lady, come into my shop" and there's so much stuff everywhere. I have no idea how any one shop could ever sell all of the merchandise they have, there's just so much junk!! She also took me to eat authentic Vietnamese food at a little, non-descript outdoor restaurant in a back alley that I would NEVER have found on my own. We munched on Vietnamese pancakes -- a fried-ish pancake that's a cross between bread and egg consistencies, filled with noodles, bean sprouts, shrimp, pork -- that you wrap in giant lettuce leaves and dip into chili sauce. Rice paper spring rolls (not fried and so fresh) and bamboo, shrimp and pork salad. All so good, and things I would never know to choose to try had I not had her as a guide. Another night we ate Vietnamese BBQ ($20 total for ALL of us to have about 4-5 main dishes and appetizers) where they bring you the prawns (here, shrimp are those tiny little guys, prawns are the meaty big suckers) LIVE in a clear pot and you have to cook them at the table while they freak out and jump around the pot as they, um....die, then eat them (Lukoff, you would've been VERY upset). All in all, B&J helped me appreciate Vietnamese daily life in a way I couldn't have done as a mere tourist.
Speaking of being a tourist, I spent two days at all the "sites" of HCMC. Day one was spent at the Cu Chi Tunnels, Reunification Palace, the War Remnants Museum and other war-related places. Day two was spent along the Mekong River Delta, glimpsing that kind of Vietnamese life. The day that focused on the war was actually a very depressing day. I don't think, no matter how much you read, watched, saw, heard about the war, you can REALLY get a feeling for it, without seeing the actual places and ways in which the war was fought. At Cu Chi, there are preserved bomb sites, remains of demolished US tanks, man-made booby traps that look like the ground of the forest (but you step into and fall into spikes), torture devices, and foxholes (that you can actually get into, cover with leaves, and go undetected). It's all part of the perspective that you come away from Cu Chi with, but the most surreal experience is crawling through the Cu Chi Tunnels. The tunnels were used by the North Vietnamese to attack Saigon. The intricate underground tunnels are 90 ft deep, each "level" 30 ft lower than the one above and are comprised of passageways, living spaces, weapons arsenals, sleeping and cooking facilities. We were able to replicate a crawl through the tunnels. You slowly descend via hidden staircases into tunnels AT MOST 3x3 feet. Then, you crouch through them. After about 400 feet of sweltering hot, twisting, turning darkness, you come to another descent, and go down another 30 feet to crawl space where you are on your hands and knees. I cannot even begin to describe how I felt doing that. Completely overwhelmed, locked in my head, even nervous at points. I was emotional at the idea that people actually lived this way in order to preserve their country's way of life. Then, you emerge into the fresh air again and you have crossed what might be the length of a football field, undetected. It's VERY frightening when you put that in the context of war. After seeing all of that, the range of ways that Ho Chi Minh's forces confounded the US forces, it's no wonder they won. Of course, being in Vietnam, a Communist country, it's very obvious that there's a slant against the American forces when you visit these sites. But, nevertheless, it didn't dull the sad feeling I had all day. How anyone can visit Vietnam and not reconsider their feelings on American led war efforts, in any region, is beyond me. Let's just say that I did a lot of thinking that day about wars that are waged on countries that might not be in our best interests to fight.
After Ho Chi Minh, I headed north to Nha Trang by bus for 2 nights. Nha Trang is a beach town, ala Jersey Shore. Very cheesy, lacking charm, mediocre restaurants but beautiful beaches. Sorry, my Jersey friends.... The trip up to Nha Trang was pretty uneventful until my Ipod ran out of batteries and the little Aussie kid in the seat in front of me who had no idea what the concept of "quiet time for 6 hours on a bus because the people around you have NO escape" was decided to use his "flashers" (flash cards with the alphabet on them) to name a word for each letter. About 15 times. I don't know how many times his parents could hear 'e is for elephant' or 'i is for iguana' without wanting to kill him. I give you ALL credit. You know who you are.... ;) On arrival in Nha Trang, I checked into my hotel, then headed out for a meal. I was STARVING as I hadn't really eaten all day. Outside of the food I ate with Joy, I really still haven't gotten eating in Asia down to a science. And tonight was no different. The soup could've passed for dishwater, the tuna could've been name-your-nastiest-meat-here, and the dim, lovely, candlelit ambience of the Sailing Club restaurant didn't help me IDENTIFY my food or see the bugs eating my legs alive so I looked like a sea-faring victim of scurvy by meal's end, so I merely went hungry (and itchy). Yet again. I am so determined to learn to eat Vietnamese, Thai, Indian food, and yet.....I'm having a hard time in my mastery. Upside, weight loss. Downside, starvation never really agreed with me. What I'd give for a chicken parm right about now....
The Sailing Club restaurant also fancies itself a beach club, so the next day, I went there to lay out on the beach in style. The beach chairs were amazing -- oversized and comfy -- and the people watching, fantastic. Still hungry, I tried a burger this time, thinking maybe ordering something I know will work for me. No dice. It was shit, too. But, what wound up being great about Nha Trang was that I got to feel like a traveler again. Starting in Nha Trang, I was on my own again. No Joy or Brian to help guide me and it felt nice. In SEAsia, such a well-trodden path, people abound and, likely, they're on the same tour as you are. So, I met Rich and Michael, two Aussies on their way up to Hoi An like me. We decided to take an overnight train together. Through them, I met Emma and Lee. Girls from NZ, same route. Adam, Johnny and Johnny's cousin (can't remember name...), who I'm bound to see through Cambodia in Feb. It's just this undercurrent of people, repeating in each place, making it comfortable. For me (now in Hoi An with many of the abovementioned folk), that part of this trip began in Nha Trang at the Sailing Club where all the travelers go for their night's kicks. It was also at the Sailing Club that I had my Page Six moment, the first this trip....
So, I'm sitting with a bunch of people and two very pretty blonds pull up chairs next to me. They had been with my group the night before. We start talking, they're both 30 as well, men, life, blah blah blah... And, as we're talking, people keep coming up to Natalie. I'm half paying attention b/c I'm talking to Tanya (Natalie's friend), and finally it hits me.
Me: Natalie -- are people asking you for AUTOGRAPHS?
Natalie: Nah, yeah. Whatever.
Tanya: Yes, they 100% are.
Me: WHO ARE YOU? Are you a little star in another country that I don't know about?
Natalie: It's no big deal.
Tanya: Yes, she's on a soap called Neighbours.
Natalie: Yes, yes...but it's nothing.
Tanya: And she is a pop-star in Australia, she has a hit now on the charts.
Turns out that Natalie is Natalie Bassingthwaighte, following the career paths of Kylie Minogue and Natalie Imbruglia who started on Neighbours and now, are pop stars, as you likely know. This Natalie is on a similar track. And, she was lovely. Just so normal and down to earth, having her holiday with a friend through Vietnam. We hung out through the Sailing Club nights and just talked about life. When I told Sarah (from Sydney) that I met her and showed her all the pictures, she keeled over with delight, rattling off a bunch of facts about Natalie like any of us would do about Gwyneth or Brad and Angelina. That'll be valid for Page Six in about 6 years when Natalie makes it in the US, but for now, that's my brush with celebrity...
Hoi An is where I'm at now, taking a night to myself after two long (and wonderful) days with sweet Sarah from Argentina who's traveling SEAsia too. We met here and took some time in the made-to-order-tailoring capital of the region laying at the pool of my ultra-fabulous hotel, running around getting clothes made (1 suit, 2 skirts, 3 shirts, 2 dresses), avoiding the hordes of locals by saying "No speak English" (it's hilarious - they have NO idea what to do with that, and actually, leave you alone!), and wound up in somebody's garage outside of town that they call "Dream Bar, Good Shit" (since Hoi An closes at around 11 PM, officially) drinking jam jars of "wodka" juice until 4 AM with a hot Aussie named Chris. Amazing to be with Sarah. It's like we left each other in Argentina yesterday, the familiar is good and we have a blast together. Tomorrow, I head up to Hue, then Hanoi. Tonight, time for bed.
More from the north....
xoxo
~M
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Good Morning Vietnam!
(what did you think I'd call it .... !?!?!?!)
And so....Round two.
Sorry for the delay. I've been a little busy, you know, adjusting to
a) Asia
b) a 12-hour time difference
c) my life
Yeah. So, hi.
Currently, I am in the beach town of Nha Trang, awaiting my bus pick-up for a 12 hour drive up the coast to Hoi An, another beach town, but a more quaint one filled with tailors that are ready and waiting to make (in 24 hours, mind you) ANY little piece of clothing your heart desires. For next to nothing...my kind of town. But, I know I've been lax about writing, so I'll try to catch you up to speed in the half hour until I leave. Might be hard. Vietnam is going to be very hard to desribe in a half-hour.
Let's start here. Vietnam is AMAZING. I actually still don't think I'm grasping that I'm actually HERE. It's on the other side of the world, and you feel that at every turn. There's nothing at all familiar about this place, but it's absolutely fantastic and very very beautiful. And that's only having seen two cities and the Mekong Delta!!
My trip started in Ho Chi Minh City (fka Saigon) about a week ago, I flew through Tokyo on a fifteen hour flight, in coach. I was DREADING the trip, obviously. Cross-country-transPacific in COACH. Not so fun. But, it was actually not as bad as I imagined it would be. Looking out my window, I was continually awed by the wing span of the plane that I was in, one that needed to go 15 hours non-stop. And, then, as the Japanese coastline came into view, I think I caught myself, catching myself...if you know what I mean. I was flying over JAPAN. Narita Airport was a trip, it's almost hokey how overdone on ettiquette the Japanese are. Everyone is in uniforms that seem fake, like from a 1970's movie about Japan, shaped in design like girl and boy scouts, with matching hats and white gloves. They are polite and delicate and everything is done with care and order, and serious little bows. It's pretty wild.
Then, onto Ho Chi Minh, where I stayed with Jordan's friends Joy and Brian, who works for Mersk over there. They live in District 1 (HCMC is divided into districts), where most of the shops, hotels, and restaurants are centered. Since I came into HCMC late at night, I didn't get a sense of the city until morning. But, oh what a morning!!! Walking out onto the streets of HCMC, you cannot stop looking around. You are bombarded by sights and sounds and smells, coming at you from every angle. The first thing you notice are the motorbikes, which are the main means of transportation in Vietnam. Everywhere, motorbikes, racing by at breakneck speeds, carrying men, women, children. 10, 50 and 90 year old drive motorbikes and looking down the streets, seeing them gather at stoplights, it's absolutely like nothing you've ever seen. They are mixed in with the taxis and cars, and there are NO RULES. Taxis U-turn at will in the middle of the streets, traffic lights hold no real stopping-potential, pedestrians (myself included) just cross the lanes of traffic wherever it is necessary to cross. Slowly, with care, looking as you do it. It's nerve-wracking at first, you think you're going to get killed, but you don't. Both the traffic and you develop a sense of crossing. I don't know how it works, but it works....
Then, you notice, the people. Hanging around. Everyone in Vietnam hangs doing nothing ALL DAY LONG. So congregated all over the streets on these little plastic chair/table sets (that you all have bought your 2 year old children, FULLY...) are Vietnamese people. Kicking it on the colored plastic. Eating, usually. They eat all the time, from the vendors on the street (which are at every turn, hawking pineapples, rice, pho -- or noodle soup, live lobsters and crabs that they cook in front of you, spring rolls (currently my staple food b/c nothing else is quite doing it for me...) For all the eating these people do, all the rice and noodles and baguettes (remember, Vietnam was French once upon a time ago), I have NO IDEA how these people are so freakin' skinny! Very jealous of them. I wish I could rice it out and not gain. Not in my lifetime. No one is sure what all these people actually DO, but they're so happy, friendly and smiley. And when they ask you where you're from (well, me....) and I say the United States, a lot of times, I get a handshake and smile and a "Hello, America" response. Very interesting..... The other thing you notice about the people is that many are handicapped in some way, whether it's missing limbs, palsied faces, limps, blindness, there is a lot of hardship for a lot of people here. You want to give money to everyone that asks, you really do, because the poverty here is different, but you can't. And it breaks your heart....
Another random thing -- everyone wears pajamas. Women, usually silk ones. Like sets that I would reserve for a romp in the hay, possibly. Camisoles and pants, you name it -- if WE sleep in it, THEY work in it. And the men wear like Hugh Hefner smoking jacket pajamas. I guess if you think about it, it's pretty damn smart -- get up, get out of bed for the day, but goddamnnit, be comfortable!!! They MIGHT be onto something. But, I didn't exactly get used to it. It's a little off...
Ok, time for my bus. Part two, HCMC and Nha Trang next . . .
~M
xoxo
And so....Round two.
Sorry for the delay. I've been a little busy, you know, adjusting to
a) Asia
b) a 12-hour time difference
c) my life
Yeah. So, hi.
Currently, I am in the beach town of Nha Trang, awaiting my bus pick-up for a 12 hour drive up the coast to Hoi An, another beach town, but a more quaint one filled with tailors that are ready and waiting to make (in 24 hours, mind you) ANY little piece of clothing your heart desires. For next to nothing...my kind of town. But, I know I've been lax about writing, so I'll try to catch you up to speed in the half hour until I leave. Might be hard. Vietnam is going to be very hard to desribe in a half-hour.
Let's start here. Vietnam is AMAZING. I actually still don't think I'm grasping that I'm actually HERE. It's on the other side of the world, and you feel that at every turn. There's nothing at all familiar about this place, but it's absolutely fantastic and very very beautiful. And that's only having seen two cities and the Mekong Delta!!
My trip started in Ho Chi Minh City (fka Saigon) about a week ago, I flew through Tokyo on a fifteen hour flight, in coach. I was DREADING the trip, obviously. Cross-country-transPacific in COACH. Not so fun. But, it was actually not as bad as I imagined it would be. Looking out my window, I was continually awed by the wing span of the plane that I was in, one that needed to go 15 hours non-stop. And, then, as the Japanese coastline came into view, I think I caught myself, catching myself...if you know what I mean. I was flying over JAPAN. Narita Airport was a trip, it's almost hokey how overdone on ettiquette the Japanese are. Everyone is in uniforms that seem fake, like from a 1970's movie about Japan, shaped in design like girl and boy scouts, with matching hats and white gloves. They are polite and delicate and everything is done with care and order, and serious little bows. It's pretty wild.
Then, onto Ho Chi Minh, where I stayed with Jordan's friends Joy and Brian, who works for Mersk over there. They live in District 1 (HCMC is divided into districts), where most of the shops, hotels, and restaurants are centered. Since I came into HCMC late at night, I didn't get a sense of the city until morning. But, oh what a morning!!! Walking out onto the streets of HCMC, you cannot stop looking around. You are bombarded by sights and sounds and smells, coming at you from every angle. The first thing you notice are the motorbikes, which are the main means of transportation in Vietnam. Everywhere, motorbikes, racing by at breakneck speeds, carrying men, women, children. 10, 50 and 90 year old drive motorbikes and looking down the streets, seeing them gather at stoplights, it's absolutely like nothing you've ever seen. They are mixed in with the taxis and cars, and there are NO RULES. Taxis U-turn at will in the middle of the streets, traffic lights hold no real stopping-potential, pedestrians (myself included) just cross the lanes of traffic wherever it is necessary to cross. Slowly, with care, looking as you do it. It's nerve-wracking at first, you think you're going to get killed, but you don't. Both the traffic and you develop a sense of crossing. I don't know how it works, but it works....
Then, you notice, the people. Hanging around. Everyone in Vietnam hangs doing nothing ALL DAY LONG. So congregated all over the streets on these little plastic chair/table sets (that you all have bought your 2 year old children, FULLY...) are Vietnamese people. Kicking it on the colored plastic. Eating, usually. They eat all the time, from the vendors on the street (which are at every turn, hawking pineapples, rice, pho -- or noodle soup, live lobsters and crabs that they cook in front of you, spring rolls (currently my staple food b/c nothing else is quite doing it for me...) For all the eating these people do, all the rice and noodles and baguettes (remember, Vietnam was French once upon a time ago), I have NO IDEA how these people are so freakin' skinny! Very jealous of them. I wish I could rice it out and not gain. Not in my lifetime. No one is sure what all these people actually DO, but they're so happy, friendly and smiley. And when they ask you where you're from (well, me....) and I say the United States, a lot of times, I get a handshake and smile and a "Hello, America" response. Very interesting..... The other thing you notice about the people is that many are handicapped in some way, whether it's missing limbs, palsied faces, limps, blindness, there is a lot of hardship for a lot of people here. You want to give money to everyone that asks, you really do, because the poverty here is different, but you can't. And it breaks your heart....
Another random thing -- everyone wears pajamas. Women, usually silk ones. Like sets that I would reserve for a romp in the hay, possibly. Camisoles and pants, you name it -- if WE sleep in it, THEY work in it. And the men wear like Hugh Hefner smoking jacket pajamas. I guess if you think about it, it's pretty damn smart -- get up, get out of bed for the day, but goddamnnit, be comfortable!!! They MIGHT be onto something. But, I didn't exactly get used to it. It's a little off...
Ok, time for my bus. Part two, HCMC and Nha Trang next . . .
~M
xoxo
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