Sapa, Vietnam:

The sign should read: "Welcome to Sapa: the hotel captial of Vietnam" as this is a very touristy place. But once you leave the town, it becomes much more rural -- very quickly.

The last two days were spent on a trek. [Actually, I'd like to pause for a moment to discuss this trek thing. In the US, we always say "Hey, ya wanna go on a hike" But for some reason, whenever you leave the coutry -- and this goes for other continents than here -- the activity previously referenced becomes known as a trek. If anyone can help me out with this quandry please do so...]

All five of us -- these are the same people I have been travelling with since Hanoi -- went out for a two day [insert appropriate word here] in the rice paddies in the valley of the river below Sapa. The walking was a combination of steep hill climbing, slipping, and scrambling for much of way. That is when we were not balencing on the edges of rice paddies that were often no more than five or six centimeters in width. [By the way, I;ve just noticed that I've started to think in Vietnamese numbers. Too much hagglingI guess...]

Our guide was a seventeen year-old -- stop right there -- local from one of the villages, and was dressed in the traditional costume of her people (I know that sounds really lame, but I couldn't come up with anything else) She was really just a kid who knew the way, and couldn't provide any details about much of what we saw, but the scenery was great so it didn't really matter. The one thing that she would not stop doing was pummeling death any plant along the way that she could hit with a stick. It became a bit of routine, where I would play environmentalist -- if you can imagine -- and she would threaten to "kill me" if I continued to protest.

Also, worth note is that I had my stitches removed this afternoon. I stopped into a pharmacy and showed the woman the sutures -- I was hoping to get an opinion as to whether or not they were ready to be removed. She began looking around for some implements, and found some pretty big scissors, then had be sit -- somewhat uneasily -- in a chair. Then nothing... Finally another woman -- who I didn't even see leave -- arrived with a doctor from the hospital on the back of a motorbike. In hand he carried a box of autoclave sanitized instruments. In no time, the stitches were removed. The only cost was (.30USD) for some alcohol.

So, just when you lose faith, there is some experience like this to restore it....


- posted by Unknown @ 4:44 AM

 
Sapa, Vietnam:

I've made it this far, and the trip up here was incredible. Four days and the first tourists we encountered were this afternoon. Sapa on the other hand is crawling with them.

the trip was alot of driving, but the scenery and the general experience was unbeatable. Last evening we stayed in a local house in a small village of about two-hundred people-- that I will not name to protect the innocent. The house was on stilts and the noise from the cow that slept almost directly underneath my "bed" was fortunately quiet enough that I was able to fall asleep.

I think one of the more memorable parts -- other than the fireflies over the rice patties on the first night -- were the expressions of surprise on the faces of the people that we passed on the road, when they realized that our Land Cruiser contained three blond white women....

Tomorrow, the same group will embark on a two day trek of the "minority" villages around Sapa before we head off to China together. Actually it was quite a good coincidence to run into these people -- an American guy, a British girl and two Dutch girls -- on the bus from Hue and find that our itineraries were essentially the same for the foreseeable future.

Still not in jail.....

- posted by Unknown @ 5:28 AM

 
Hanoi, Vietnam:

Also worth note, before I leave Hanoi for the uncharted North-Western section of Vietnam with a group of travellers I met on the night-bus-from-Hell (I mean Huè)

1) My Vietnamese visa runs out of Thursday, but I do not intend to leave the country until the thirtieth. [Please note, the police have probably already read this....] I've been told by several people that I will only need to pay a relatively minor fine at the border. But there is still the chance that I might end up in jail. Please, if you do not hear from me before the fourteenth of May, call the embassy and ask them if they know anything.....

2) I decided when I arrived in Hanoi that I would go to China instead of Lao as my next step. I'll only be in the South-Western part of the country and will exit in Lao, by -- again -- the fourteenth of May and save a number of days that I would have had to spend on a series of awful buses to loop in throu Vietnam (via Vinh) -- I'm sure everyone reading this has a detailed knowledge of South-East Asean Geography, so I'll leave it at that....



- posted by Unknown @ 3:40 AM

 
Hanoi, Vietnam:


There are a few things about Hanoi that I find curious.

First, it is important to understand that in the rest of Vietnam -- that I have experienced -- a sidewalk is generally for one thing. Parking motorbikes so thick that you cannot actually use them for walking. This leads to alot of walking in the street, and near missed by buses, cyclos, moving motorbikes, bicycles, cars, and basically anything you can think of that might be weaving thru the streets. In Hanoi, sidewalks are actually used for walking. In fact there is even a clear demarkation for the areas that are for people, and those that are for motorbikes

At night there are people -- the one's I've noticed have been mostly men -- belting a phase over and over again in a rolling bass tone. For the first couple days, I was convinced that they were chanting: "Bring out your dead" But, as it turns out they are really saying(and this is phonetic) "Bang Me Oie," meaning that they have fresh bread.



- posted by Unknown @ 2:45 AM

 
[Days and days go by, and nothing , nothing....until now.]

20-apr-2002: Hanoi, Vietnam

I spent the better part of the day with a bunch of expats at the country club by the side of the lake while dozens of screaming children attended no-less than three sequential birthday parties. To tell the truth, it was actually a pretty calm place for me to spend some time convalescing. (see below)


18/19-apr-2002: Hanoi, Vietnam:

I arrived in Hanoi after a twelve (yes,12) hour night bus from Dong Ha -- a town that no one has probably heard of unless they paided attension to the towns between Hue and Hanoi. On the bus, we were all fortunate to have enough space that each person could have a pair of seats. Unfortunately, this was not much consolation as the leg room was very limited. I'm not all that tall, but finding a comfortable position was close to impossible -- this is not a compaint only a search for compassion from my readers. Most of the time was spent with my legs balenced against the window and the seat in front of me. And by some magic, I actually arrived in Hanoi relatively rested -- there is a chance that the three beers I consumed before departure might have contributed to the surprisingly restful voyage.

Arriving in Hanoi, I headed directly to the flat of a friend of a friend from University (Doug Meehan lived here for a few years after school and a good friend of his -- Amelia -- still lives here.) Finding myself in a household was such a welcoming contrast to the hotels that have provided me refuge over the last weeks.

The apartment was rennovated by its current tenents, so it is constructed and decorated in a very western style. There is a very open kitchen/licing area on one floor and three bedrooms on the top floor. Additionally there is a four year old in the house -- Doug's godson -- who is quite a good kid. I've spent a bit of time playing with him; for instance, this morning -- at an hour a little too early considering the amount of alcohol I had consumed the night before -- he piled a pile of blocks on my bed and jumped up and down on the matress until I arose and joined him for a building session.

Hanoi is a cool city, with some great streets offerring wares that are organized by category based on a history of guilds in the Old section of the city. There are also some pretty big communist style monuments like the mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh, and one of the few remaining statues of Lenin -- the other one is in Cuba -- in the world.

At this later location, I found myself as the sun was dropping behind the trees on Friday -- nineteen april -- evening. While attempted to find a proper angle to take advantage of the sun in a picture I was -- in classic style -- attempting to jump up onto the platform upon which the base of the statue stands. [This is the kind of place that skateboarders frequent as the marble platform provides a good edge for tricks. The edge is rather sharp, I might add.]

As I attempted to get myself up the one meter height I misjudged the distance and either missed the ledge or my feet slipped and I was forced to catch myself with my my shins -- essentially falling forward onto the platform. This was a bit embarassing, and as I attempted to regain my composure -- smiling at the guys sitting nearby, and laughing in a self-deprecating manner -- I looked down at my slightly aching right shin.

Now, I will not take you through the details, but let's just say there was a sign that I had done some damage that was a bit more than superficial. Upon rolling up my trowsers, I confirmed my fear -- I had a bit of an open wound.

For a moment, just imagine me standing there on the platform of a statue of the brainchild of realized communism in the middle of a developing foreign country with a bit of a boo-boo on my leg. The onlookers began to gather around me and I sat down to think thru my options. As the men who had seen me fall attempted to convince me to get onto a motorbike and go who-knows-where, I thought through my options and determined that I probably would have to get up and walk to find a phone -- having an expat with a driver as a host began to seem like an incredible luxury.

So, I stood up and -- with my entourage of the two guys that were trying to be helpful -- I hopped down off the statue and struggled across a four lane street [read: 10 lanes of motorbikes.] to the museum across the street that I hoped would be able to provide a telephone. Unfortunately compassion for the clearly injured did not seem to be an option for the guards and I was turned away -- I should have listened to my wildly gesturing friend who did not want me to even talk to these "police."

After about another block I was led into a garage-cum-medical facility that I had no interest in entering, but they did have a phone and I was able to raise Amelia on the phone. For the next ten minutes I waited, sitting in a street barbers chair [e.g. folding chair] with my leg elevated. This was where Amelia and her driver found me.

The story becomes much less exiciting at this point, so I'll just sum it up. To the tune of one-hundred-eight US dollars I am now the proud owner of five stitches and a bag full of medical supplies for dressing the area.

The moral of the story is: Communism is obviously bad, so stay away; even if you want a cool photo......


17-apr-2002: DeMiliterized Zone, Vietnam

I spent the day on a tour of the former division between the North and the South that was established in 1945 after the second world war. As the book says [paraphased] you need a good imagination since there is not much left.br>
Fortunately I had both. The guide was a bit of trip -- no pun intended -- as he had this accent that incoporated a very succinct manner of speaking with a cadence that changed according to the emphasis he wished to place on the content being relayed. Unfortunately I did not have an audio recorder so I can only give a short example i hopes that it makes sense.

He would say things like: On....thirty-(wooooon)-march-nineteen-sixtyeiiiiight... at... exactly...eleven... am...the.... Amerrrrican..... Waaaaarrrrrr... was.... escalated...by-the-then-President-Johnson. [I can only hope that this translated in print]

He also prefaced his tour with a short speech about how he was only a tour guide relaying "historical facts" and that no one should be upset with him. Then at the end he tacked on a (maybe-somewhat-biased) diatribe about the impact of the war, that would have be upsetting to anyone who wasn't willing to take it in stride.

As for the "sights" there was a patch of dirt, and a bridge that was competely rebuilt in nineteen-seventy-three. So, besides some cool scenery, the best part about the whole thing ended up being the guide himself.

- posted by Unknown @ 3:58 AM

 
Hue, Vietnam:

I arrived here last evening, and I'm not actually going to last all that long -- the visa deadline is being to loom a little too close and I've at least been able to garner a decent feel for the place.

Today -- after a drawn out logistical planning session to determine my departure (read: buy my train ticket) -- I ran into Helen (my Scottish travelling friend) in the throws of beginning a motorbike tour of city. Without any other plans, I jumped -- quite literally -- on the motorbike-wagon and joined what turned out to be a fairly large group. [Groups are fun, but groups can take on a life of their own if one is not careful.]

We toured thru the countryside and visited some tombs -- of kings -- and pagodas -- of monks -- and bridges -- in Japanese style (actually there was only one bridge, but the plural consistency seemed necessary.)

Toward the end of the day, there were some very ominous clouds accompanied by thunder in the not-so-distant sky. As a result of the pending weather -- or at least this was my perception -- we headed back into the city without a trip to the final tomb that I had hoped to see. [NOTE: This is the tomb of the king that had one-hundred four wifes....and no children, curious.....]

I asked the lead driver -- half in jest -- if we could have a price reducution since we didn't get to the last place. He wasn't very happy with me, but did offer to take me there if I wanted to go (e.g. I wasn't afraid of the rain.) I took his offer and after I dropped my bag at the hotel -- me getting wet I don't mind, the camera on the other hand just doesn't like water -- and we headed off at break-neck speed.

It became eminently clear that he wasn't very happy with me as we weaved between cyclos, motorbikes, and bicycles at a much faster speed than the one we had been maintaining all day. He proceeded to go on a tirade about how he had to pay the other drivers, and they didn't know the agenda, so I should have asked him where were goin, etc. etc.

I did feel a little bad, and after my apology he did seem to calm down a little... though the speed was not reduced -- and I'll tell you, depsite the level of danger, it was a really good ride.

Anyway, the point of this whole thing, is that I got to the tomb and it ended up being really great. Part of the effect was definately related to the late hour -- and the resultant shortage of tourists; there were some places that I could sit without hearing a sound -- but the pending storm with its thunder and dark sky also contributed to the ambiance. I ended up spending about fourty-five minutes inside before becoming guilty that Thu (the driver) was waiting -- in the rain -- and made my way out.

He was calmer when I found him, but the ride back to the city was no less exciting.

I'm not even going to dicuss why my train ticket ending up falling through leaving me with the option only to take the bus to Hanoi -- 12 hours -- if I also want to have a proper tour of the former Demiliterized Zone....
- posted by Unknown @ 4:49 AM

 
Hoi An, Vietnam:

I do really like this place. I've just bought two shirts that will be custom made and delivered to my hotel before I depart at 2pm. (Oh, I paid an outrageous 15 USD, but I was able to haggle away one dollar)

The food in this town is hard to beat, especially the food put together in the small stalls that litter the market as well as the ones along the street. The other evening I sat down with my German travel companion under a corrugated steel roof in a tiny chair, next to a tiny table and ordered the noodle dish that was available. After we had been there for some time, the woman (e.g the chef) walked over and unplugged the electric sign -- this apparently was a signal to anyone on a motorbike driving by with the hopes of a take-away meal that there was no food remaining.
- posted by Unknown @ 9:22 PM

 
Hoi An, Vietnam:

I arrived this afternoon is this very pleasant little town on the bank of a small river. Architecturally, there are some portions of the town with strong French roots while others have a predominant Chinese influence, and despite the periodic droves of tourists it is possible to find some quiet streets. I spent the overcast afternoon with one of the people from the highlands tour looking for a place to eat the watermelon we bought at the market, and trying on cloths at the -- quite reasonable -- tailor shops in town.

The last four days in the highlands were incredible. As one might be aware from some of my rantings, the tourist trail is quite strong in Vietnam, but in the highlands there were almost no Westerners. The biggest group of tourists we saw was a group of Vietnamese who were more interesting in the group of Westerners drinking tea, than than the "minority" -- this is what the guides call the other-than-ethnically Vietnamese -- people in the old-school village that surrounded us [read: pigs, long houses, and the like.]

The trip involved alot of driving, but that encompassed some of ther highlights of the trip. (That is, other than the forty minute elephant ride in the Yok Don National Park. Or should I say close-up elephant feeding. The ride consisted of the three of us -- I was with my Scottish friend and a German woman -- sitting precariously on the back of an elephant while the questionably sober driver{?} half-guided the ravenous animal from bamboo grove to bamboo grove.) The rice fields, and the pine filled passes thru which we passed were breathtaking -- as were some sections of the road; at one point we had to stop while a "construction" crew completed the "demolition" of some rocks on a cliff about 40 meters above us. This portion of the road was also formerly part of the Ho Chi Minh trail, and while it bore no resemblance to the path that served the original purpose, it was still a memorable trip.

The big lesson from the trip concerned the growing of rice. We were having a debate about rice, and none of us knew how it actually grew. (The best we could imagine was that it grew under water in the paddies, like a peanut or something.) This discussion went on for some time -- to the entertainment of the local guide in Kom Tum -- until we were led down a small path which opened up into this immense series of paddies with mountains in the distance. The answer to our question became obviously clear moments latter when he pointed out the grains of rice in their "pods" flowing in the wind -- not so unlike wheat. (Oh, you knew about this..... you're just sooooo smart aren't you.)

- posted by Unknown @ 4:21 AM

 
Nha Trang, Vietnam:

So, I've found another good place to stay up late. This is a bit of a party town, and the locals have set it up to serve that end -- almost too well. Yesterday, I went on a island-hopping boat with a bunch of randoms that featured a Vietnamese "boy band" [read: the crew, playing an electric guitar and water jugs as drums,] a communal meal, and a good long mullberry wine [think: Manishevitz] floating happy hour that paved the way for quite a late evening at one of the clubs (the Sailing Club) on the beach.

Today, the Scott, the Aussie and I went to a hot springs/mud spa to soak away the poisons of last night. There is something quite nice -- in a bit of a childish manner -- about sitting in a tub of semi-viscous mineral mud pouring the content over your head. We met an American guys there, and the Australian girl gave him a bit of wind up and convinced him that down under, the only place people procreate is in the bathroom (as the bedroom is too dirty)

Generally the town seems a little touristy for its own good, but I do have to admit that I've spent only a very short time here -- I think I'm feeling as though something as trite as the beach is not a great use of my time while I still have a decent amount of travelling momentum. (Although my logic might seem a bit inconsistent considering my nightime activities.)

Tomorrow, I will leave for a four day trip thru the central highlands. The tourist route is up the coast -- thirteen hours straight up the coast, no less -- so hopefully this will provide a chance to see some less manicured experience (one would hope, but considering everything else in the this country I'm completely convinced there is a way around it)


And now, a quick vignette of the tourist experience in Vietnam: The bus that I took between Saigon and Nha Trang with a stop in Dalat was organized by a tourist company -- this is somewhat similar to the "tourist class" in Thailand that I have railed against earlier. These buses are very reasonable, in part due to the kickbacks (or comission) that they receive from hotels/restaurants. When we arrived in Nha Trang the bus driver wanted to make sure we saw the hotel that they were recommending. We waited around for a while, and reached a point of frustration after sitting on the bus for five hours, and decided that it was time to venture out on our own in search of accommodation. At this point, the driver physically placed himself between us and the door and commanded us to "sit down." We complied, but only for a few minutes before basically forcing him out of the way so that we could exit the bus. Walking around the streets with a full complement of travel gear was probably not such a good idea either, as there were dozens of moto and cyclo drivers following us down the street waving cards in our faces -- a one point no less than five were trying to get us to go to the same place. Eventually, we did manage to find a hotel that was reasonable, but only after reaching the point where we refused to even consider any place that was touted to us. While becoming bitter is probably not the most appropriate reaction, it can sometimes be very hard to keep good composure when faced with the guerilla marketing that is employed here.
- posted by Unknown @ 4:46 AM

 
Dalat, Vietnam:

Some words of wisdom from my motorbike driver/guide from today -- I take no responsibility, I'm only relaying what I heard:
There are two types of chickens in Vietnam
* The small ones that you find at a farm
* The fifty kilogram ones you find in the city [he then explained that he meant prostitutes]

Every Vietnamese [man] only wants a few things
* A French villa
* Chinese Food
* A Japanese woman

During the course of the day I also learned some more about the minorities that have been persecuted by the Vietnamese government -- e.g. the refugees from Cambodia. Apparently, that tribe is not the only one that has been displaced or kept on a short leash by this country. One of the places I went today was the home for one such tribe, and while they are not necessarily classic tent-dwelling refugees, they are essentially fenced into a realtively small area of land. As something of a payback, the people of the village choose to build a -- historically/allegorically relevent -- cement chicken with the cement that was provided by the government to build a statue of Ho Chi Minh. [or so said my guide....]
- posted by Unknown @ 6:30 AM

 
Dalat, Vietnam:

I'll keep this one short so as not to bore anyone who has made it through the last few tomes. I arrived in Dalat this afternoon, and was able to get a good look around town. The surrounding hills are covered with conifers so it actually feels a little bit like New England.

It's cool here -- literally -- due to the altitude and I think it's also cool because its essentially a University town. In fact I was approached by a group of students by the lake -- actually, I was approached by a guy who purported to be making a survey of foreigners, and when I spoke to him, a whole gaggle of students appeared (included two girl who had obviously been following me for a bit.) Despite the stalker element, they were all actually really friendly, and after a bit of chatting offered to show me the University. Not that the campus was all that exciting, but they just seemed so thrilled that I was willing to talk to them -- then again, wouldn't anyone be?

Before then, I had been acosted by no less than five(5) "guides" offering motorcycle trips to here and there and everywhere. Touting that their trip would show me the real Vietnam, and that they could tell me all about the American use of Agent Orange and the like -- they seemed to be more animated once they were told that I was from the US. These guys market themselves by having travellers write recommendations in little journals. To show how cynical I've become, my first thought upon seeing these recommendations was that they were all forged.....
- posted by Unknown @ 6:12 AM

 
Saigon, Vietnam:

I've really enjoyed the last few days here. HCMC/Saigon is a great city. There's lots of energy in the streets (and I'm not just making reference to the 8 million -- literally -- motorbikes in town) In the evening, there is a park nearby that is nearly completely filled with couples "parked" on their motorbikes.

Despite the bad reputation that this city gets -- knock (or touch for you Brits out there) wood -- I have had very little trouble with neither the touts, the moto drivers, the postcard kids, or the hoards of pickpockets that I expected. We'll have to see how my last night goes, as I leave tomorrow morning.

My first two days, I spent a lot of time wandering about and seeing some of the reminents of the Second Indochinese war -- for those not in the know, that's the conflict that the US was involved in here. There is a bit -- and I being kind in my assessment -- of anti-American propaganda floating around here. Now, if I were one that believed that the US was in the right in the decisions that were made during that time, I might be slightly miffed, but as I -- excuse my high horse for a moment -- feel that our country made some terrible mistakes, and created alot of problems for the people and the environment of this region with its policies, and actions of the time. In any case, it was odd to watch a video at the Cu Chi tunnels -- these are the undergound netowrk of tunnels used by the VC as their military base (ironically, they were situated only a few kilometers from a major American base) -- where there are images of smiling Vietnamese making booby traps in order to (in a happy sing-songyfemale voice) "kill Americans."

Today, I picked up a pair of hiking shoes -- the Timberlands that I bought before my first real Europe trip are probably now the prized possession of some large Khmer in Phnom Penh as I left them in the back of the pickup upon arriving from Battambang -- and got my sandals fixed by a guy squating by the side of the road for 14USD and .30USD respectively. Then, the exciting part. I was out with some Danish girls that I have run into repeatedly over the last few days, (Hold on, Danish girls are fun, but that's not the exciting part yet.) and when the subject of a trip to the water park came up I was all for an afternoon jaunt.

So, two of us went to the Saigon water park. Now, this is exactly what you think it is; an amusement park full of water rides (slides and such.) Built and maintained by an Australian company there is a uncomfortable amount of care taken to make sure the park is safe. There are even lifeguards -- who actually look like they can swim. It was a somewhat Western thing to do, but it was a pretty hot day, and I cannot imagine there will be much more chance for that sort of thing for a while (Besides it was only five bucks -- including lunch)


- posted by Unknown @ 5:21 AM

 
Saigon, Vietnam:

I've been in country for about 3 days now. And, let me tell you, for a Communist country there is certainly alot of Capitalism floating around -- and alot of questionably authentic goods (I've seen lots of "Do Marten" shoes, for example.)

One interesting images is the choice of outdoor seating furniture. There are loads of plastic tables and chairs -- you know what they look like; the stackable kind -- but the ones here are a little different because they are not the ones that are used in the US for adults, but the ones that are used for children. So the tables are at about knee level, and the chairs are just about too small.

The first couple included a very bumpy ride across the Cambodian-Vietnamese border that delivered me to Chau Doc, and a great stay in the Mekong Delta town of Can Tho. I was able to organize a boat tour of a few floating markets in the area -- albeit not a cheap one, but my guide was insistent on making sure that I had enough to eat. To the point where she invited me back to her house at the end of the tour for Raman noodles and cabbage, while her mother sat on the floor folding laundry.

The floating markets are pretty sweet in Vietnam. There are dozens of medium sized boats filled to the gills with fruits and vegetables -- its amazing how they can stack the pinapple so neatly. Each boat only caters one or two goods and the available items are announced by being tied to a bamboo pole fixed to the bow of the boat.

The other highlight of the tour was a brief stop at a rice noodle factory. Now you wouldn't think that that would be so cool, but the process is cool. They create this rice/water slurry, which is then placed on a hot stone like a crepe. The rice-crepes are then dried in the sun, so that they can be cut into noodles in the afternoon.

Overall, the Vietnamese are very pleasent. I've met a number of people who have tried to "take care of me" -- including the boat guide -- who actually seem to be legitimately interested in being friendly. [Though something I do wonder if the opportunity for practicing English is a primary motivation -- A waiter in Can Tho was allmost insistent that we get a beer after he was done with his shift; it was difficult to decline as he seemed so dissappointed. I will admit that images of my lifeless body being dragged from the Mekong played a slight role, but generally I was just too tired from too many 5am mornings.]

The oddest invitation I've had thus far is a secondhand marrage proposal. A guide in Chau Doc asked me somewhat leadingly: "Can I ask you a personal question? Sure, I said. "Are you married?" No, I replied. He then went on to tell me about his sister(?) who was willing to give anyone willing to help her with US citizenship a sizable amount of money in return. Getting out of this one was not as easy as I hoped, so you'll all be happy to hear that I'm returning in a few months with a new wife -- she speaks no English, and since I cannot speak any Vietnamese (yet) it'll be challenge. But hey, we can make it work.....


- posted by Unknown @ 8:38 PM