Shout Out #13
Trip Start
Jun 05, 2006
1
15
41
Trip End
Ongoing
Hanoi,
Vietnam
Friday, January 19, 2007
01- Saigon traffic circle
. I also have no clue as to what is considered unorthodox on a bus packed full of miscellaneous stuff; boxes jammed under the seat and in the overhead racks; sacks and sacks of goods in the back. The most indiscrete packages were shoved behind the sacks in back, in the bins below, and on the roof. As far as I know, this could be a major arms cache going straight from Hanoi to Vientiane (the capital of Laos- another communist country due to heavy support from Vietnam). There is so much stuff on this bus that our backpacks and some of the sacks have been stacked in the aisle in the back 4 rows. Should trouble arise, I'll have to play it off as a contribution to the Common Carrier. Shawn's got the right idea. It's best to adapt to the socialist ideals: you give a little, but you get a little (mostly very little). When the guy next to Shawn slid his butt over into Shawn's seat, Shawn used his shoulder as an armrest. When he stretched his feet under Shawn's seat, Shawn used them as a footrest. Give and get, that's the angle I'll take. It's a stretch but I'm sure I can come up with something. In contemplating my contribution, the progression of experiences as I travelled through Vietnam came to mind. After a month in the country I was still struggling to get a sense the overriding story of it all. Much of the difficulty came from the fact that the Vietnamese can be very difficult people
02- Saigon scooter traffic
. The museums are mostly about war, the galleries are full of battle scenes and paintings of Ho Chi Minh, and an ordinary conversation sounds like a loud argument: "HI HONEY, I'M GOING TO THE MARKET!! DO YOU WANT ME TO PICK ANYTHING UP?!!
"SURE! I'M KIND OF IN THE MOOD FOR SOME ROAST PIGEON!!!"
"I WAS GOING TO MAKE THAT TOMORROW!!! TONIGHT I WAS THINKING WE COULD HAVE SOME DOG!!!"
"IF YOU ALREADY KNEW WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO COOK, WHY DID YOU ASK ME?!!!!! SURE, DOG IS GOOD!!"
Their culture is strong, pungeant even. It's evident in the traditional clothes; girls in silk pants with a silk top that hangs below the knees, women in the pointy straw hats, and men in uniform; hey are all very distinctly Vietnamese. It's evident in the propaganda billboards plastered throughout the country and the war victory monuments built in every city. It's evident in how they do business. It's even evident in the ways they adopted some of the French culture -the baguettes on the street and the sidewalk cafe's- prior to sending the French packing. It's most evident in the simple fact that they exist as an independent people at all. Throughout their history they've fought far larger forces (China, France, and the US) and each time they have maintained their place in the world.
As with all the countries in Southeast Asia (and in most around the world), Vietnam was created by a powerful kingdom that ultimately conquered surrounding tribes. Cambodia is due to the victory of the Khmers, Thailand is modern day Siam, and Laos is the conglomerate of many Lao tribes. The people in south Vietnam were originally conquered by the powerful Nguyen dynasty from the north, and more recently by the Viet Cong
03- Saigon at night
. Needless to say, they are still very different than the people in the north (and much more friendly to an American traveller). Aside from north and south, there are also a broad range of ethnic minorities throughout the country. Many live in villages in the country and are very poor. Regardless of the diversity, there is still a distinct Vietnamese nature that was for me, hard to grasp. For the most part, I was much more of an outsider looking in than I had been in Cambodia and Thailand. Welcome to Vietnam. In only 7 steps you will be free to enter. Step 1- Border guards refuse to give you the required papers and demand to fill them out for you. Step 2- Guards ask for payment for this service. Step 3- Wait in line, get passport stamped. Step 4- Wait in line. Pay for some useless health papers (without being told how much they actually cost). Step 5- Fill out more papers. Step 6- Get bags X-rayed while the X-ray technician is ogling the girl standing behind you. Step 7- Show completion of all steps to guard at the door. *Note- neither the paperwork service nor the health papers actually require payment. It's quite okay to say no.
In the scheme of stomach troubles I found it helpful to focus on the things I was thankful for. Namely that I had made it into the country, to Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City if talking with a government official), and into a room, BEFORE the Cambodian "tea" chose to attack. Needless to say, my days in Saigon were spent within a limited radius of my room but I did manage to take in much of what the city had to offer...sidewalk cafes, bread!!, history, important war sights and the government presentation of the Vietnamese perspective on the U.S. involvement, and the noise (the streets are louder than Cambodia and the use of the horn is even more senseless)
04- Mui Ne
. Right as I was planning where to go from Saigon, I got an email from my mom: "Rich's paper said there was a typhoon heading for Vietnam expected to hit just north of where you are some time Sunday afternoon. I'm assuming you already know about it and are safe. Let me know." I thought: "Well, I was planning on going to Dalat in the mountains, but a typhoon? Perhaps there will be surf in Mui Ne? Mui Ne it is then."
As soon as the music comes on, usually something tense with cellos, violins, and maybe a tympany drum, it's apparent a big scene in the movie is coming. Whatever the characters are facing, the environment fully reflects their mood. I've often wondered why they aren't aware of the immanence of what is to come. "C'mon man, can't you hear the music? Didn't you see the lights dim?" I saw the clouds, I knew the storm was coming, and I was fully unprepared for their implications.
As I had hoped, the waves were big, but their shape was poor and I was in poor shape. It was my 6th day in Vietnam and my stomach finally felt decent, my problem was lethargy. The sickness left me with little strength for walking, let alone paddling in big waves. Sitting on the beach with a book was much more appealing. As the clouds approached, the wind picked up, and the sun started setting, I contemplated surfing on the next day
05- Kids from a temple outside Mui Ne
. I even tried to go to bed early so that hopefully, my strength would return. I would have fallen asleep too, had I not been reading Catch 22. When I finally managed to tear myself away, my body absolutely refused to find comfort. No posture worked and I squirmed around endlessly; on my back, on my side, the other side, onto my stomach, back to the beginning, left foot over right, right over left. While squirming the wind grew louder and rain started to fall sporadically. My efforts were fruitless so I decided to go outside and watch the storm approach thinking my body might cooperate after a bit of cool air. Upon returning to my room there was still no physical arrangement my body would agree to. As I struggled, the storm hit full force. The window blew open and crashed against the wall like a snare drum then slammed shut with the sound of a cymbol. I let it pop open and crash shut while the wind rustled the palm leaves like a steady clarinet being backed by the chimes. All-the-while, the rain applauded loudly on the roof. After several more rounds with the snare and cymbol I crawled out of bed and latched down the drum section. Still, I heard no music.
The best position I managed to find was lying on my back with my arms across my chest like I was in a coffin, but my head was throbbing. The tiny pressure of the pillow on the back of my head was unbearable. I had to remove the pillow and lay perfectly flat
06- Outside of Dalat
. Slowly, very slowly, sleep crept into my bones, but, only for short intervals. Each time I awoke from a spell, I was fully drenched in sweat. And so it went until very late in the night: the rain, my sweat, the wind, and my aches. The next mid-morning, I awoke to a clear sunny sky and a small breeze, and I felt perfect, like I had never drank the water in Cambodia. Whatever had invaded my stomach swirled through my body before dissolving completely. So what's the catch? The storm only left the very gentle sound of ripples sifting through the sand. The surf had vanished. "The bureaucracy here is unbelievable!" I met Fernando on the bus from Mui Ne to Dalat. He's Brazilian but he spent the last year working in France, drinking pastis, and eating pate. After a nice, mellow stay in the mountain town of Dalat, we went to the beach town of Na Trang where we killed 4 hours waiting for the next bus out of town. Considering the fact that we decided to go to the post office, we actually achieved quite a bit in those 4 hours. One overseas package requires 5 different forms to be filled out, all giving the same information: shipping addresses, names, passport numbers, contents of the package, etc. None of the forms were the same size or shape which eliminated the possibility of using bond sheets. Poor Fernando had 2 boxes going to 2 different countries using 2 different methods- air and sea
07- Ethnic minority craftsman
. It took a full hour and a half to get through the process. Such ordeals require a good dose of pastis and pate which we happened to find in a French cafe down the street. We hopped an overnighter to Hoi An, the world heritage town (as decreed by UNESCO) known for its historic architecture and its tailors. The historic Chinese shops and the tiny streets were such a nice change of pace from the resorty beach towns but I'll always remember it for my time with Lien, Meen, and their friend Mark- 2 lovely Belgian sisters ("The Lien, Meen Fighting Machine" -Travis the Canadian) and an Englishman with great English humor. While I got lost on a motorbike in the countryside, Fernando and Mark went about choosing the fabrics for their Brooks Brothers knock-offs. I had no intention of buying any clothes but when I saw the possibilities, I caved. Brooks Brothers wasn't really my approach though. I was drawn in by the ability to make pants that were cut like jeans using some of the funkiest fabrics in the store. In the end, nothing I purchased matched anything else, but it was all funky. From Hoi An we were all headed in different directions so we only had a brief time together. That's just how it is though. The circumstances bring about quick, meaningful interaction and then it's gone.
The American War left behind much destruction throughout the country
08- Fernando and Me
. Disabled people, the aftermath of Agent Orange, inch up the streets on their hands or sitting on carts with disfigured limbs. Forests are being replanted and many of the historic sites were damaged or destroyed by relentless bombing. Hue was once the capital city and also an area heavily impacted by the war. Although it was the rainy season and the temperatures were cold, there was much history to take in. Fernando continued northward but I wanted to see more of the area. Hue was the first destination where I started to notice the difference between the north and south. There was a strong presence from both sides; former soldiers who fought with the U.S. and big government buildings with big red flags flying the golden hammer and sickle. The communist government was much more visible there.
I hired motorbike drivers to take me to the surrounding countryside and to some of the sights within the city- old temples (some built more than 400 years ago), former war bunkers, and historic monuments. One temple particularly stood out. It sat quietly next to a stream in a gorgeous forest. Few of the temples I've visited throughout Southeast Asia had a similar silence. There was a bamboo meditation hut built over a pond, bamboo bridges, and artwork with Chinese calligraphy on the walls- in the past Chinese was their language. The temple was led by a highly esteemed monk and pictures of him meeting with the Dalai Lama hung in one of the buildings
09- Dalat- Behind said waterfall
. Sometimes the atmosphere alone gives an empowering impression. I easily understood how someone could flourish in that place. Aside from touring, I spent some time in Hue sneaking into a 4-star government hotel in order to swim laps in the pool. The best way to gain access in such situations is mostly due to selection. Find a government hotel with a rating one star above what it actually is and walk in like you know what you are doing. Government employees are the least likely to question anybody's credentials. After 4 nights straight, I was finally nailed. It was a sign that I needed to move on.
I really don't care much whether the chicken or the egg came first. I'm more disturbed by the fact that they arrived at all. Chickens and eggs sit about one notch below mosquitos and one notch above Clearchannel on my list of All Time Most Worthless Creations. The night bus dropped me off on the side of the road in Ninh Binh at 5 am. Eager for sleep, I scored a room, dropped my bags, jumped in the thick blanket, and placed my head on the pillow just as the roosters announced their worthlessness. "Yeah, I can hear that you are a cock." After stealing some brief moments of sleep in between the morning chicken propaganda, I decided to take a bicycle into the countryside where some caves are located.
Ninh Binh is around 100 kilometers below Hanoi and has some stunning scenery with karst bluffs scattered around the countryside. As I rode toward the main dock for catching boats to the caves, I came across a lady from the village who offerred to take me in her boat for a smaller price. Sure, why not? We rode to her house and parked my bike. As we got into the boat two of her friends joined us. "I guess it's going to be a party."
As they pushed and paddled the boat through the reedy water to the minorly impressive caves, I gathered that their conversations tended to revolve around schemes for collecting more of my money
10- Ethnic minority kids
. The first being my marriage to the lady who brought me, the second being blatant harassment- "Give money tip", and the third being an invitation to dinner in the village. For me, the most harrowing yet appealing offer was dinner in the village. Marriage was far to unrealistic to be threatening and "Give money tip" had no charm. With the meal there was nourishment and a sense of adventure to go with it. The $10,000 question (or 160,000,000 dong) was what they were going to cook with "No cow, no pork, no chicken, no fish, and no dog". Most likely something with rice. I sat inside with the kids while they worked at the fire outside. To my dismay the answer was....eggs. How could I forget, "NO EGGS"! She had scrambled many eggs, cooked them into a paddy, cut them in strips, and rolled them up into little bits of one of natures largest disasters. Now I was too far into the adventure to turn back. A miscellaneous soup brightened the table only because of its ability to wash the squishy bits of egg out of my teeth. 4 rolls and 2 small bowls of soup was my politeness tolerance. Sometimes the adventure just isn't worth the price of admission. Hanoi was a fresh breath of smoggy air, however, the motorbike horns were more like an eternal monotony of pop radio tunes...I savoured the morning and evening propaganda talks bellowing from the speakers on the street just because of the distraction from the noise
11- Dalat- The Crazy House
. All things considered, I thoroughly enjoyed the city. It's the cultural center of Vietnam and the people are much different than elsewhere in the country. The Honda motorbikes were replaced by Vespas, old men with long goatees gathered on benches around the lake in the Old Quarter, streets are filled with shops selling whatever goods are meant to be sold on that street (stuffed animals are on stuffed animal street and candy is on candy street), and monuments, museums, and revolutionary sites are everywhere. As an American, much of the history was especially interesting. The propaganda throughout the country, but particularly in Hanoi, was all the more interesting. In the war museum there is a soldiers helmet sitting in a glass case. It's riddled with holes; smaller entry punctures and larger exit bursts. The display reads: "A Steel Helmet: evidence of the failure of the French". If comedy is tragedy with distance, that's pure Lenny Bruce. Across the room beneath a fiery photo of a battle scene, the display reads: "People in Hiep Hoa rose up, destroyed posts, put thugs out of action, and liberated their native land." Tanks or cannons on display both in the north and the south typically read something like this: American such and such tank used by the Puppets. Captured in the liberation efforts at such and such battle by the Liberation Army. The southern army is always called the Puppets and the northern army is always called the Liberation Army. Everything is presented as the government wants it to be seen
12- "All we can say is Hooray!"
. Upon visiting the prison museum, the former 'Hanoi Hilton' as American prisoners once called it, the presentation was especially transparent. The so-called museum more closely resembled an attorney's representation of evidence in a trial. The prison was originally constructed by the French for the purpose of holding Vietnamese people who threatened their ruling ideals. Much of the museum was a series of correspondence documents between French officials regarding the conditions of the prison, i.e. food rations or bathing policies. The best aspect of the prison was the structure itself. Seeing the various cells and holding rooms and the guillotine brought in by the French painted a much better picture than legal documentation. The second portion of the museum showed how well American prisoners were treated by the Vietnamese in that same prison. There were photos of smiling pilots, now famous former captives (John McCain), and pilots being "rescued" from their crashed plane by a hoard of 15 Viet Cong soldiers. They even showed the food-bag American pilots were given by the U.S. in case they crashed. It had an American flag and they were supposed to use it to beg for food. Basically, nothing was reliable as it was presented and the museum left no valid impression of what actually took place in either circumstance. All I could deduce was that the walls were built to hide much nastiness through the years. We were all in agreement that it was fake dog
13- Nha Trang pastis and pate
. Last night it was fake prawns with little fake black eyes, and before that it was a different fake shrimp. For three days my veggie meals consisted of soy concoctions meant to resemble some form of seafood. This was the first attempt at meat and something went awfully wrong. It didn't taste like beef to me, but it's been a long time since I've had the real thing. I left it to some experts at the table and they concurred that it most definitely could be dog. The tour guide said it was beef but he wasn't trustworthy. Nobody who says we'll go to the caves in 7 minutes, spend 49 minutes there, and in 56 minutes we'll have dinner is to be trusted in any circumstance. This was the last meal of the 3 day, 2 night tour of the surreal Halong Bay. It was held in the type of government hotel where pools are open to the public if you want them to be...a 4 star joint indeed. I was impressed because it had an elevator and hot water that actually worked. Our grand farewell dinner was in the bright flourescent restaurant obviously created with a mind for the utilitarian. In this case, the movement of tour groups in and out of the doors quickly, under 13 hours and 23 minutes. Shawn had flown in from Australia to have an Asian Christmas and in the scheme of time, we thought a tour would be the best way to maximize our visit to the bay. The natural beauty of Halong Bay's endless karst islands is astounding but I was really struggling to enjoy it. I dislike tours and the Vietnamese nature of this one made it worse. The only thing that made it better was doing my best to needle the guide with highly unorthodox behavior. I began by sleeping part of the night on the upper deck of the boat and finished by paddling backwards with Shawn in our kayak; my frustrations became his frustrations became my joy. "Now if I can make it through this dish of fake dog, we can get back to Hanoi and catch a bus to Vientiane... promptly." 
