Whereas I needed the previous night just to rest up, following my impromptu attempt at being a nature photographer and taking pictures of lightning, I decided to see if I could find a place that was little more lively. Most of the restaurants are laid-back places--places to sit and sip wine. As I've mentioned, I'm not exactly a wine drinker, so I was looking for somewhere a little more bar-ish.
Forunately, as I wander around, I find a bar showing the world cup game that is packed to the gills with orange-clad dutch supporters watching their game against denmark. Fortunately, they have an upstairs area that was pleasantly deserted (which was fine, because I hadn't had dinner yet). I sit by one of the TV screens and end up talking with a guy sitting nearby (somehow, there was a time-lag of about several seconds between the upstairs feed and the downstairs feed, which was made evident by the downstairs screams occurring five seconds after the play in question was broadcast upstairs). Turns out, the guy was not only a Dane who was watching more out of morbid curiosity, but he was also the former manager of the bar, who is in the process of trying to set up his own restaurant in Hoi An. Not only was he the former manager, his girlfriend worked at the bar, which meant that all of the staff were coming over and talking to him.
Now, people in SE Asia tend to be relatively guarded--especially around tourists--but all you need is one "in" or "connection"--even if that connection is someone who literally just met--and the guard drops (to the extent that it can--generally, the culture views reserve as a desired personality trait, which means if someone who you just met is being overly friendly, they want something from you).
That was the same night that I broke two of my "rules"--I had red bull or at least a red bull knockoff (they actually make a sports drink that is red bull flavored gatorade without any of the taurine or whatever they use to give red bull the kick--and yes, red bull flavored gatorade does taste nasty--its called Sponsor, and avoid it at all costs), and I had a whiskey bucket. And yes, it was the same night that I ran into the girl whose family counts Kinky Friedman as a valued customer.
Fortunately, I wasn't planning on doing anything the next day, which was fine because I got to bed late. Of course, I was awakened by the sound of the air conditioner and power switching off in the morning because of the rolling blackouts due to the low water level in the Mekong not generating enough hydroelectricity.
After taking care of some errands, it was the middle of the day. Now, considering how hot and humid it was, I should have just found some nice cafe and rested and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. That would have required some common sense, though.
Instead, I decided to rent a bike and ride out to a beach that was about 4kms away. I should also mention at this point that the only map I had was a small business card sized map of the city center. I had seen some signs pointing to where the beach was, but I generally had no clue where I was going. I just figured I'd take the road in the direction the sign said and see what would come of it. (Riding bikes and going up stairs are great ways of determining how out of shape you are, and what exactly is wrong with your body. Unsurprisingly, my tweaky left knee was still tweaky as always).
To summarize:
Nearly 100 degree heat with 100% humidity.
Feeling somewhat worn out/ill from the night before, and already sweating like a pig before hopping on a bike.
Having a tweaky left knee that is not up to full strength.
Only having a general idea where I was going--but no real map to speak of.
--and I decide to go anyway.
I'm sure my parents are glad to know that they've raised a kid capable of making such intelligent choices.
For a buck, I get a bike and start heading east on the main road. There's no official tradition of a "siesta" in Vietnam, but there might as well be--the once bustling streets turn eerily quiet between the hours of about 1 and 4pm, and the only people stupid enough to be out and about in the midday heat are tourists. So, I generally have the road to myself, except for other westerners heading that same way. The road isn't all that scenic for the first half--just pass a bunch of stores and various developments, although you do have to go over a couple of creeks--then you pass a river to your right and then are in the ricefields again for a little while as you have to climb over a bridge before finally arriving at the beach--a more crowded, less scenic, more developed China Beach stretch of sand, although with a better view of the Cham Islands.
By the time I arrived at the beach, I was sweating like a pig and decided to find some place to camp out in the shade (with the intention of writing in my journal) for a couple of hours before "witching hour"--as I came to dub the time between 415 and 515pm--approached and it was nice enough to walk around again. I found a shaded restaurant, parked my bike, covered the seat with the scarf I bought in Cambodia, and had a drink.
The nice thing about travelling in SE Asia is that it is pretty easy to strike up a conversation with a fellow tourist, especially if you are both solo. It helps that it is also easy to identify the tourists--they are either the people who don't look asian (read: mostly white people), or, if they are of asian heritage (whether that be korean, japanese, chinese, or asian-american/european), the people who don't dress like the locals. This is a good general rule for everywhere except Singapore, where, for non-asians, add the condition that they are not wearing a suit or any other form of professional attire.
****Social psychology sidetrack (skip if you wish--I have no background in psychology other than two classes, one of which I took credit/d/fail, the other I dropped before it could appear on my transcript, so what appears below is, at best, something approaching brain droppings)
I honestly don't know why it is easier to talk to a stranger and to meet new people on the road than when you are at home. It should be exact opposite: you and a stranger meeting at home are more likely to have shared traits (cultural background, ethnic background, life experience) that should make it easier to find common ground. Of course, the shared background presents its own difficulties: namely, a hierarchy of social rules and customs that govern interactions between two people at home, preconceived stereotypes based on the stranger's behavior and dress, and the realization that the two of you are probably share a common friend or acquaintance. Pigeon-holing while traveling is generally limited to age range and nationality, some of the b.s. rules that govern social interactions back home are thrown out (leaving you only with the essentials), and the chances of you having a shared contact is considerably less. There's also zero pressure, because you are also less likely to continue to run into this person. Of course, the simplest explanation is that people on vacation are just in a better mood and are friendlier than when they are at home. Again, I don't know the answer--the only conclusion I can make is that for whatever reason, people are just more approachable when they are on vacation.
****End social psychology sidetrack
Anyway, as I'm downing water bottle after water bottle to make up for all the sweating I've done, I'm watching some random movie in this outdoor restaurant underneath a fan (upon further in-depth research--wikipedia--I discovered that the movie was probably "airheads." Not one of Brendan Fraser's finest, but it is a cheap time machine to the early 90s) and strike up a conversation with a girl sitting at the table next to mine. Though she's a born and raised englishwoman, my hunch is that she's of mixed racial background, a hunch which is confirmed when she tells me that after Vietnam, she is headed to see her mother's family in Indonesia--and she is proficient enough in Bahasa to shock touts and merchants who try to overcharge her.
She's from Leeds (for whatever reason, the two most common hometowns/areas for the English that I met, other than London, were Leeds and Yorkshire), but works at the University of Manchester in their social anthropology department, and managed to get her ticket to Vietnam, as well as some expenses, paid for by the university, as she was conducting research in Saigon. It turns out she did a year abroad at Arizona State while studying photography (and had a blast).
We both notice an interesting phenomenon--the majority of the people on beaches in Vietnam between the hours of about 9 to 4pm are pale and pasty foreigners or wealthy vietnamese (which you can tell by their dress). As soon as 4pm rolls around, however, rush hour for the locals occurs, and the beach is swarming with extended families and groups of friends seeking to enjoy the last 2.5 hours of daylight--this probably isn't a coincidence, as 4pm to sunset is the nicest part of the day by far.
After considerably cooling off, we decide to join them and just walk on the beach for about an hour or so and see the good (older vietnamese couples burying each other in the sand, young vietnamese couples with their lifejacket swaddled children), the bad (merchants placing mats along the shoreline and pestering us to sit down and have some food, the sheer crowds), and the just plain ugly (villas/developments along one end of the shoreline, white "whales" sunbathing and wearing banana hammocks near said properties). It was a nice setting, but I thought China Beach was actually nicer because it was bigger, less touristy, and had better views.
Ride back as the sun again sets over the ricefields, and I do my usual routine of go to the bar, eat, and end up meeting an ex PWC employee from london, and a UBS worker from L.A. who is in the process of being transferred to New York.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Hoi Ants
I forgot to mention in my previous post one important thing about the bus from Hoi An to Hue--considering that this SE Asia, it wouldn't have been a bus ride without some cheesy music videosof some sorts. The choice for this ride? A bunch of obscure B-side hits from the late 80s.
How obscure? I've listened to a lot of 80s music in my time--and dare I say, actually like it (I never said I had great musical taste)--and so I recognized some of the bands, but I had never heard of most of the songs played. I realize Vietnam was effectively closed off from the world of pop culture during the 1980s, but that doesn't mean that everything they missed out on was worth experiencing. Another bizarre scene--watching some spectacular scenery while trying to stifle my laughter as the corner of my eye spots gregory hines and mikhail baryshnikov (sp?) dancing in a Lionel Richie music video. I repeat: if there is any down, out of work, 80s new wave band who needs the money, launch a reunion tour in SE Asia, and maybe consider living there permanently--you may not make as much money as you did in your heyday, but at least the cost of living is much cheaper. Heck, if I can find a dirt cheap airfare, it might be worth it to start a tribute band and rake in the dough.
So, I arrive in Hoi An around 1pm after having made the customary 30 minute rest-stop for every 1.5 hours on the road. My first impression? This is it? Doesn't look like much to me. It turns out the bus had dropped us off about a couple of hundred yards from the main old town site, near a lot of the budget/good value guesthouses. It was also very hot--and the sun was brutal.
For $12, I agree on a fairly decent room. That's when I notice the ants. (Side note: I hate ants. Passionately. I was literally scarred for life when I was 8 or 9 years old when I reached my hand in some bushes to dig out a basketball after getting out of school for Christmas break, and found my right forearm swarming with fireants, and ran, screaming, into the playroom bathroom to wash them off. Bite scars are still visible to this day). At first, I think that they are no big deal--and, at worst, I can always change rooms or hotels the next night, and I purposely put all my bags on tables away from the ants.
After resting for a bit, I got a map and started to wander around--(another piece of advice: save weight during the daytime by getting a map from your hotel/hostel/tourist office, take it back to your hotel room, look at the guidebook, and mark up what you want to see on the map--then ditch the guidebook. Those things can be hefty, and you really don't need them if you are just wandering around a certain area for the day)--and discovered that the map was a little bit inaccurate and not to scale, but once you figured that out, it was smooth sailing.
They've managed to do a great job of preserving the old town part of Hoi An that clings to the river--the buildings are in the Vietnamese Colonial style--all painted yellow and with the standard roof decorations. I spent the afternoon walking (and sweating) while also avoiding some of the equipment being used to tear up and subsequently repave the streets of Hoi An. That first day, I managed to find an internet cafe--although, in hindsight, I should have skipped it--the place was the previously described internet cafe with a grand total of two fans in a room packed with about 20 or so people, next to a house that was being repaired--and was serenaded by the sound of drills and other construction equipment. The sound and the afternoon heat were just to much to bear and I had to get out of there. Luckily, I was able to find a place much closer (cooler and nicer) that I was able to use, and it became my routine spot--it was a small place run by a family who lived upstairs (very common in vietnam for the merchant or restaurant owner to live either beside or above their business), and also operated a combination dvd/radioshack type of shop.
Had dinner the first night at a nearby place that wasn't all that memorable, but it was decent.
I get back to my room, and go to sleep, purposely trying to avoid the ants. When I woke up the next morning, to my dismay, there were ants all over the place--even where I had put my bag to purposely avoid them. I managed to get all of them off, but enough was enough, and I decided to see if I could change my room. They gave me the key to another room, and I check it out, but discover that there are ants in there too. I get my bags and walk out after paying. Fortunately, I was in guesthouse heaven--there were at least 10 if not 15 within a 2-3 block radius. I literally walked two doors down to another guesthouse, found a comparable room for the exact same price (imagine that--collusion, probably, but who knows--I could have gotten it for cheaper had I tried to bargain it down, but it honestly wasn't worth it).
When I wandered around in the old town in the afternoon, I honestly had no idea what I was seeing. So, after first getting my measurements taken for suits, I explored the old town with a purpose. My problem is that I had no idea what I was actually looking at, so I basically retraced my steps and wandered around the place for the morning and early afternoon. Hoi An is a nice relaxing place with not a lot of pressure to do anything, so I certainly didn't mind having an easy day of sorts. Walked down to the river and crossed the bridge to an island that is slightly off the tourist track and saw some of the local fisherman and fishing vessels. Took pictures of about four kids playing marbles in the shade. They requested some American coins, but, unfortunately, I didn't have any--instead, I looked through my wallet and found four 1 baht coins (worth about 3 cents apiece), and gave them that instead.
If you can get away from the motorbike drivers, Vietnamese people can be extremely hospitable and welcoming. It was approaching midday, and I needed a break, so I stopped by a little roadside stand and had a coke. The shopkeeper was there with her 7 year old daughter and husband, and, in her limited english, tried to talk to me. I freely obliged, and, soon enough, the daughter took an interest in me and started practicing her english--which I didn't mind helping her with. Certain practices transcend cultural boundaries, and that includes bragging about their children. Proud of their daughter, the mother and father showed off her notebook from school--not only was her handwriting better than mine (don't be too impressed...elephants with paintbrushes have better handwriting than I do), but she received darn near perfect marks on everything.
If its "hot" at 9am, than its darn near boiling at between 1&2pm, so its a perfect time to go inside and take a rest--and that's exactly what I did.
The weird thing about Hoi An and central Vietnam in general is that as miserable as the weather can be in June from sunrise to about 2-3pm, by 4pm or so, the low-pressure systems that bring in the monsoons to other parts of Vietnam create coastal breezes and winds that cool the temperature considerably--by at least 5-10 degrees--and make it borderline pleasant outdoors.
In broad daylight, the scenery surrounding Hoi An and Danang, with mountains in the background and ricefields and rivers in the foreground, is pretty to look at. In the late afternoon sun, the setting is spectacular.
With the decent temperature and the late afternoon sun not nearly as harsh as it was midday or in the morning, I decided it was as good a time as any to check out China Beach--the long, crescent shaped stretch of sand about 20-30 minutes from Hoi An that served as the legendary R&R location for many an American soldier and civilian based at nearby Danang. It was also, according to wikipedia, the name of a critically acclaimed but poorly viewed TV drama based on the experiences of red cross workers and GIs that worked in Danang that aired around 1990--and that, to the dismay of many fans, hasn't been released on DVD (from the brief clips I saw on youtube, it actually wasn't half-bad). In a rare case of a moto driver actually undershooting my expected price--the first hotel I stayed at told me it should cost about 12 bucks round trip, the second hotel said 10 bucks--the moto driver offered to take me there for six bucks. And he actually approached me, not vice versa. Sold.
Back on the road that hugs the coast, the high mountains of Hai Van pass that stretch to the sea north of Danang are backlit and silhouetted by the fading sun--and the low light manages to magically illuminate the just off-shore Cham Islands--four of five tall karst uplifts known for their great diving. After we passed the Danang international telecom cable station, I had the driver pull over near some of the roadside land that bears the scars of having previously been developed and built on (depressions, cleared fields, levelled ground, etc.--I'm not sure that the land used to a be a military base, but it would be interesting to look at a map archive to see what exactly was built there) so I could take some pictures.
We pass the usual golf courses, future development sites, and resorts, and then turn off on a dirt road within spitting distance of the entrance to the Marble Mountains. To my surprise, I am one of a grand total of less than five white people on this beautiful beach on the South China Sea. Lots of Vietnamese are out on the beach with their families and friends, doing things that wouldn't be out of place in the U.S.--building sandcastles (you have to wonder if that started out in the west, and was exported to Vietnam, or its just innate for kids no matter where they are to build castles in the sand), playing volleyball/soccer, sitting with their romantic partner, playing in the water with their families. The most noticeable difference, though, between this scene and one in the U.S. is the modesty of the women--whereas men and boys are wearing the standard swimshorts, vietnamese women, after they pass puberty it seems, are generally pretty modest on the beach--covering their shoulders and wearing shorts that are, at minimum, just above knee-length.
The low light, the coastal breeze, the spectacular setting, and the laid-back ambience of a place with historical significance as a respite from war created a magical scene that seemed to wipe away any worry or care from your mind--because the only other people on the beach were vietnamese, it was easy to feel a pleasant sense of isolation of just being on your own.
I walked up and down the beach, and decided to explore a little inland to where I had seen some ruins of buildings and rusted barbed wire that sat by the main dirt road to the beach. This probably wasn't the smartest idea given the potential for tetanus because of the rusted wire, broken glass, and broken bricks. I tried to imagine what could have possibly been there--it certainly had the appearance of an old military base, with the barbed wire, but I wasn't sure. And that's when I saw it; I somehow managed to miss it at first because it was covered in foliage, but the concrete octagonal structure had clear open firing slits, and a back entrance. It was a pillbox, oriented towards the beach. There was a plaque by the entrance--which was too littered with broken glass to risk exploring--but it was only inscribed with vietnamese (I took a picture of it--hopefully I'll be able to get it translated).
With the light continuing to fade, and needing to get back for another fitting, I got back on the motorbike and headed back towards Hoi An.
As I have mentioned previously, it is easy to get cynical after being on the road for 8-9 weeks, but there are certain things that can still make you go "wow" and possess jaw-dropping capability. A Hoi An sunset is one of them. I had the driver pull over once more as we were about to go over a bridge, and I walked on the sidewalk to the center. The inland wetlands and fishing vessels were silhouetted by the orange glow of the setting sun--and the only thing on my mind was that I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
There was more to come, however, as we pulled over by some ricefields so I could take pictures of the setting sun behind the mountain ranges reflecting in the water-filled ricefields filled with green shoots.
There are certain moments that I hope will stay with me forever, and that late afternoon is one of them (fortunately, though, I was able to take lots of pictures, unlike the full-moonlit nights on Merapi and in Luang Prabang). After that experience, I vowed to return to China Beach before I left.
Got my fitting and wandered around Hoi An at night. Spent a while gazing from the middle of the An Hoi footbridge as lightning illuminated far off thunder clouds. In my dumb luck, while taking a picture of the bridge, I managed to get some lightning lit clouds in the background. Of course, when I tried to purposely take photos of the lightning, I failed miserably--only getting blackness instead.
How obscure? I've listened to a lot of 80s music in my time--and dare I say, actually like it (I never said I had great musical taste)--and so I recognized some of the bands, but I had never heard of most of the songs played. I realize Vietnam was effectively closed off from the world of pop culture during the 1980s, but that doesn't mean that everything they missed out on was worth experiencing. Another bizarre scene--watching some spectacular scenery while trying to stifle my laughter as the corner of my eye spots gregory hines and mikhail baryshnikov (sp?) dancing in a Lionel Richie music video. I repeat: if there is any down, out of work, 80s new wave band who needs the money, launch a reunion tour in SE Asia, and maybe consider living there permanently--you may not make as much money as you did in your heyday, but at least the cost of living is much cheaper. Heck, if I can find a dirt cheap airfare, it might be worth it to start a tribute band and rake in the dough.
So, I arrive in Hoi An around 1pm after having made the customary 30 minute rest-stop for every 1.5 hours on the road. My first impression? This is it? Doesn't look like much to me. It turns out the bus had dropped us off about a couple of hundred yards from the main old town site, near a lot of the budget/good value guesthouses. It was also very hot--and the sun was brutal.
For $12, I agree on a fairly decent room. That's when I notice the ants. (Side note: I hate ants. Passionately. I was literally scarred for life when I was 8 or 9 years old when I reached my hand in some bushes to dig out a basketball after getting out of school for Christmas break, and found my right forearm swarming with fireants, and ran, screaming, into the playroom bathroom to wash them off. Bite scars are still visible to this day). At first, I think that they are no big deal--and, at worst, I can always change rooms or hotels the next night, and I purposely put all my bags on tables away from the ants.
After resting for a bit, I got a map and started to wander around--(another piece of advice: save weight during the daytime by getting a map from your hotel/hostel/tourist office, take it back to your hotel room, look at the guidebook, and mark up what you want to see on the map--then ditch the guidebook. Those things can be hefty, and you really don't need them if you are just wandering around a certain area for the day)--and discovered that the map was a little bit inaccurate and not to scale, but once you figured that out, it was smooth sailing.
They've managed to do a great job of preserving the old town part of Hoi An that clings to the river--the buildings are in the Vietnamese Colonial style--all painted yellow and with the standard roof decorations. I spent the afternoon walking (and sweating) while also avoiding some of the equipment being used to tear up and subsequently repave the streets of Hoi An. That first day, I managed to find an internet cafe--although, in hindsight, I should have skipped it--the place was the previously described internet cafe with a grand total of two fans in a room packed with about 20 or so people, next to a house that was being repaired--and was serenaded by the sound of drills and other construction equipment. The sound and the afternoon heat were just to much to bear and I had to get out of there. Luckily, I was able to find a place much closer (cooler and nicer) that I was able to use, and it became my routine spot--it was a small place run by a family who lived upstairs (very common in vietnam for the merchant or restaurant owner to live either beside or above their business), and also operated a combination dvd/radioshack type of shop.
Had dinner the first night at a nearby place that wasn't all that memorable, but it was decent.
I get back to my room, and go to sleep, purposely trying to avoid the ants. When I woke up the next morning, to my dismay, there were ants all over the place--even where I had put my bag to purposely avoid them. I managed to get all of them off, but enough was enough, and I decided to see if I could change my room. They gave me the key to another room, and I check it out, but discover that there are ants in there too. I get my bags and walk out after paying. Fortunately, I was in guesthouse heaven--there were at least 10 if not 15 within a 2-3 block radius. I literally walked two doors down to another guesthouse, found a comparable room for the exact same price (imagine that--collusion, probably, but who knows--I could have gotten it for cheaper had I tried to bargain it down, but it honestly wasn't worth it).
When I wandered around in the old town in the afternoon, I honestly had no idea what I was seeing. So, after first getting my measurements taken for suits, I explored the old town with a purpose. My problem is that I had no idea what I was actually looking at, so I basically retraced my steps and wandered around the place for the morning and early afternoon. Hoi An is a nice relaxing place with not a lot of pressure to do anything, so I certainly didn't mind having an easy day of sorts. Walked down to the river and crossed the bridge to an island that is slightly off the tourist track and saw some of the local fisherman and fishing vessels. Took pictures of about four kids playing marbles in the shade. They requested some American coins, but, unfortunately, I didn't have any--instead, I looked through my wallet and found four 1 baht coins (worth about 3 cents apiece), and gave them that instead.
If you can get away from the motorbike drivers, Vietnamese people can be extremely hospitable and welcoming. It was approaching midday, and I needed a break, so I stopped by a little roadside stand and had a coke. The shopkeeper was there with her 7 year old daughter and husband, and, in her limited english, tried to talk to me. I freely obliged, and, soon enough, the daughter took an interest in me and started practicing her english--which I didn't mind helping her with. Certain practices transcend cultural boundaries, and that includes bragging about their children. Proud of their daughter, the mother and father showed off her notebook from school--not only was her handwriting better than mine (don't be too impressed...elephants with paintbrushes have better handwriting than I do), but she received darn near perfect marks on everything.
If its "hot" at 9am, than its darn near boiling at between 1&2pm, so its a perfect time to go inside and take a rest--and that's exactly what I did.
The weird thing about Hoi An and central Vietnam in general is that as miserable as the weather can be in June from sunrise to about 2-3pm, by 4pm or so, the low-pressure systems that bring in the monsoons to other parts of Vietnam create coastal breezes and winds that cool the temperature considerably--by at least 5-10 degrees--and make it borderline pleasant outdoors.
In broad daylight, the scenery surrounding Hoi An and Danang, with mountains in the background and ricefields and rivers in the foreground, is pretty to look at. In the late afternoon sun, the setting is spectacular.
With the decent temperature and the late afternoon sun not nearly as harsh as it was midday or in the morning, I decided it was as good a time as any to check out China Beach--the long, crescent shaped stretch of sand about 20-30 minutes from Hoi An that served as the legendary R&R location for many an American soldier and civilian based at nearby Danang. It was also, according to wikipedia, the name of a critically acclaimed but poorly viewed TV drama based on the experiences of red cross workers and GIs that worked in Danang that aired around 1990--and that, to the dismay of many fans, hasn't been released on DVD (from the brief clips I saw on youtube, it actually wasn't half-bad). In a rare case of a moto driver actually undershooting my expected price--the first hotel I stayed at told me it should cost about 12 bucks round trip, the second hotel said 10 bucks--the moto driver offered to take me there for six bucks. And he actually approached me, not vice versa. Sold.
Back on the road that hugs the coast, the high mountains of Hai Van pass that stretch to the sea north of Danang are backlit and silhouetted by the fading sun--and the low light manages to magically illuminate the just off-shore Cham Islands--four of five tall karst uplifts known for their great diving. After we passed the Danang international telecom cable station, I had the driver pull over near some of the roadside land that bears the scars of having previously been developed and built on (depressions, cleared fields, levelled ground, etc.--I'm not sure that the land used to a be a military base, but it would be interesting to look at a map archive to see what exactly was built there) so I could take some pictures.
We pass the usual golf courses, future development sites, and resorts, and then turn off on a dirt road within spitting distance of the entrance to the Marble Mountains. To my surprise, I am one of a grand total of less than five white people on this beautiful beach on the South China Sea. Lots of Vietnamese are out on the beach with their families and friends, doing things that wouldn't be out of place in the U.S.--building sandcastles (you have to wonder if that started out in the west, and was exported to Vietnam, or its just innate for kids no matter where they are to build castles in the sand), playing volleyball/soccer, sitting with their romantic partner, playing in the water with their families. The most noticeable difference, though, between this scene and one in the U.S. is the modesty of the women--whereas men and boys are wearing the standard swimshorts, vietnamese women, after they pass puberty it seems, are generally pretty modest on the beach--covering their shoulders and wearing shorts that are, at minimum, just above knee-length.
The low light, the coastal breeze, the spectacular setting, and the laid-back ambience of a place with historical significance as a respite from war created a magical scene that seemed to wipe away any worry or care from your mind--because the only other people on the beach were vietnamese, it was easy to feel a pleasant sense of isolation of just being on your own.
I walked up and down the beach, and decided to explore a little inland to where I had seen some ruins of buildings and rusted barbed wire that sat by the main dirt road to the beach. This probably wasn't the smartest idea given the potential for tetanus because of the rusted wire, broken glass, and broken bricks. I tried to imagine what could have possibly been there--it certainly had the appearance of an old military base, with the barbed wire, but I wasn't sure. And that's when I saw it; I somehow managed to miss it at first because it was covered in foliage, but the concrete octagonal structure had clear open firing slits, and a back entrance. It was a pillbox, oriented towards the beach. There was a plaque by the entrance--which was too littered with broken glass to risk exploring--but it was only inscribed with vietnamese (I took a picture of it--hopefully I'll be able to get it translated).
With the light continuing to fade, and needing to get back for another fitting, I got back on the motorbike and headed back towards Hoi An.
As I have mentioned previously, it is easy to get cynical after being on the road for 8-9 weeks, but there are certain things that can still make you go "wow" and possess jaw-dropping capability. A Hoi An sunset is one of them. I had the driver pull over once more as we were about to go over a bridge, and I walked on the sidewalk to the center. The inland wetlands and fishing vessels were silhouetted by the orange glow of the setting sun--and the only thing on my mind was that I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
There was more to come, however, as we pulled over by some ricefields so I could take pictures of the setting sun behind the mountain ranges reflecting in the water-filled ricefields filled with green shoots.
There are certain moments that I hope will stay with me forever, and that late afternoon is one of them (fortunately, though, I was able to take lots of pictures, unlike the full-moonlit nights on Merapi and in Luang Prabang). After that experience, I vowed to return to China Beach before I left.
Got my fitting and wandered around Hoi An at night. Spent a while gazing from the middle of the An Hoi footbridge as lightning illuminated far off thunder clouds. In my dumb luck, while taking a picture of the bridge, I managed to get some lightning lit clouds in the background. Of course, when I tried to purposely take photos of the lightning, I failed miserably--only getting blackness instead.
Friday, June 25, 2010
The Road to Hoi An
I didn't purposely plan my trip around taking a bus or the road from Hue to Hoi An or vice versa. I knew that I wanted to visit both places, and it just so happened that they were so close to each other (about 3-4 hours by bus) that it didn't make any sense to fly (not that there are any flights between the two). While I was in Hue, though, I saw advertisements about chartering a motorbike and doing the road that way, since apparently the road from Hue to Hoi An had been profiled on some famous British TV show known as "Top Gear" and is considered to be the most spectacular stretch of road in SE Asia.
Because I don't know how to ride, I would have had to hire a driver as well, which would result in a journey price 10x more expensive than taking the bus, and more expensive than some air tickets I had purchased on the trip. There's also the fact that being the passenger on the back of one of those things is only fun for about 30 minutes--after the first half hour, it starts to get tiresome, and you start to get saddle-sore--so I booked the bus instead, which proved to be a wise choice.
The only other option of getting from Hue to Hoi An is via rail. As the main highway runs parallel to the railroad for almost the entire stretch, it is really a question of timing and convenience--for me, it was simply more convenient to take the bus--it is air conditioned, and the roads are in much better shape in Vietnam than in Laos or Cambodia.
We head out of Hue, crossing over one of the many canals/streams that run throughout the city, and then start to head south. As the city passes by, tree covered ridgelike hills are visible behind the houses lining the railbed, which is on the right side of the bus (if heading south), and further hills/borderline mountains that are faintly lit in the distance become increasingly visible as the bus nears their location. It doesn't take long before you are in a rural area that matches the common image of Vietnam many of us have--clearings and fields surrounded by green forests and irregularly shaped hills and mountains.
As you move farther south, you cross over several rivers, and even higher mountains and hills loom in the distance, making the uplifts near Hue look like bunny slopes. In a perfect world, I would have gotten the bus driver to pull over every time I wanted to take a photo. Unfortunately, that would have meant spending the night somewhere between Hue and Hoi An. Forunate enough to get a seat on the west side of the bus, the morning light worked to my advantage as I dealt with limited glare while taking photos from the window. This means I was forced to shoot on the fly, and hope for the best. Fortunately, my photos came out great.
Following the lead of other people on my bus, I also left my seat several times to take pictures through the windshield of scenes that I couldn't have shot any other way. The road becomes increasingly spectacular as the mountains and hills crowd nearer to the coastline, creating some spectacular contrasts in scenery. Steep mountains with jagged ridgelines tower over flat as pancake kelly green ricefields and farmers houses.
The previously flat road starts to steepen, as we begin a climb in elevation to cross one of the various mountain passes, which provides an amazing vista of the surrounding area. The views are just stunning. Coming down from the first mountain pass, an even more stunning sight awaits--a sheltered, nearly perfectly spherical inlet/cove with aquamarine water presided over by steep and towering mountains that rise almost directly from the shoreline--it's not something you expect to see in Vietnam, which makes it all the more spectacular. There's an edenesque quality to the cove, as there's little in the way of tourism, and is only populated by local fisherman still casting their nets in the traditional means.
Then, you have to climb up the second and final mountain pass--and the most spectacular one as well. You emerge from a tunnel bored directly through a mountain staring directly below at aquamarine water, an almost perfect crescent shaped beach, and Danang--vietnam's third or fourth largest city, and where the US marines landed in 1965. The pass is known as Hai Van, and it is easily the most spectacular mountain pass in Vietnam--nowhere else will you get a vista with a such a unique combination of tall, offshore islands, clear water, a flesh colored beach, and an industrial city all in one frame.
Many Americans around my parents age will likely have a natural interest in seeing Danang, considering it was a major US military center during the Vietnam War, but little remains from that period, and Danang is just a massive, sprawling city, with no apparent character to it. If you are desperate to explore it, better to stay in Hoi An and take a day trip to Danang, which is only 30 kms away. The place kind of had a Miami vibe to it, only without the same cultural/artistic ambience. You could do a full scale model of Danang in the U.S., and it wouldn't be all that dissimilar from any number of communities and towns on the gulf coast.
You get past Danang, and see a cluster of about five or so karst hills in the middle of an otherwise flat coastline--these are the Marble Mountains, and can be seen as the traditional starting point for the legendary R&R spot of China Beach, which is actually just a general location name for the long, crescent-shaped stretch of sand from Danang to Hoi An.
You pass what appear to be relics of a US military presence--half oval concrete airplane hanger like structures that are now used as garages and for various other purposes.
You can also see in various places where the ground was definitely built on and had been previously altered, even though no structures currently exist there on site--these sites could be the former locales of military bases, or merely something less historical. It would be interesting to view old military maps of the area and find out, though.
Then the road passes by a cluster of golf courses and walled off properties bearing the names of Greg Norman, Colin Montgomerie, the Hyatt, and Le Meridien. China Beach--at least the part that's closest to Danang--looks like it is going to explode in the next five to ten years with the amount of development occuring along its coast, as Vietnam attempts to market it as their "golf coast." Big changes are in store, and it would be interesting to come back in several years to see what the place looks like.
You pass more land that looks like it once held a development of some kind, given how depressed some of the sand and the grass is, and the small size of the trees dotting the properties indicate that they were planted rather recently.
Then, its past the Danang International Cable building before crossing over a river, passing more ricefields and finally arriving in the quaint and quiet town of Hoi An, where I will pick up from in my next post.
Because I don't know how to ride, I would have had to hire a driver as well, which would result in a journey price 10x more expensive than taking the bus, and more expensive than some air tickets I had purchased on the trip. There's also the fact that being the passenger on the back of one of those things is only fun for about 30 minutes--after the first half hour, it starts to get tiresome, and you start to get saddle-sore--so I booked the bus instead, which proved to be a wise choice.
The only other option of getting from Hue to Hoi An is via rail. As the main highway runs parallel to the railroad for almost the entire stretch, it is really a question of timing and convenience--for me, it was simply more convenient to take the bus--it is air conditioned, and the roads are in much better shape in Vietnam than in Laos or Cambodia.
We head out of Hue, crossing over one of the many canals/streams that run throughout the city, and then start to head south. As the city passes by, tree covered ridgelike hills are visible behind the houses lining the railbed, which is on the right side of the bus (if heading south), and further hills/borderline mountains that are faintly lit in the distance become increasingly visible as the bus nears their location. It doesn't take long before you are in a rural area that matches the common image of Vietnam many of us have--clearings and fields surrounded by green forests and irregularly shaped hills and mountains.
As you move farther south, you cross over several rivers, and even higher mountains and hills loom in the distance, making the uplifts near Hue look like bunny slopes. In a perfect world, I would have gotten the bus driver to pull over every time I wanted to take a photo. Unfortunately, that would have meant spending the night somewhere between Hue and Hoi An. Forunate enough to get a seat on the west side of the bus, the morning light worked to my advantage as I dealt with limited glare while taking photos from the window. This means I was forced to shoot on the fly, and hope for the best. Fortunately, my photos came out great.
Following the lead of other people on my bus, I also left my seat several times to take pictures through the windshield of scenes that I couldn't have shot any other way. The road becomes increasingly spectacular as the mountains and hills crowd nearer to the coastline, creating some spectacular contrasts in scenery. Steep mountains with jagged ridgelines tower over flat as pancake kelly green ricefields and farmers houses.
The previously flat road starts to steepen, as we begin a climb in elevation to cross one of the various mountain passes, which provides an amazing vista of the surrounding area. The views are just stunning. Coming down from the first mountain pass, an even more stunning sight awaits--a sheltered, nearly perfectly spherical inlet/cove with aquamarine water presided over by steep and towering mountains that rise almost directly from the shoreline--it's not something you expect to see in Vietnam, which makes it all the more spectacular. There's an edenesque quality to the cove, as there's little in the way of tourism, and is only populated by local fisherman still casting their nets in the traditional means.
Then, you have to climb up the second and final mountain pass--and the most spectacular one as well. You emerge from a tunnel bored directly through a mountain staring directly below at aquamarine water, an almost perfect crescent shaped beach, and Danang--vietnam's third or fourth largest city, and where the US marines landed in 1965. The pass is known as Hai Van, and it is easily the most spectacular mountain pass in Vietnam--nowhere else will you get a vista with a such a unique combination of tall, offshore islands, clear water, a flesh colored beach, and an industrial city all in one frame.
Many Americans around my parents age will likely have a natural interest in seeing Danang, considering it was a major US military center during the Vietnam War, but little remains from that period, and Danang is just a massive, sprawling city, with no apparent character to it. If you are desperate to explore it, better to stay in Hoi An and take a day trip to Danang, which is only 30 kms away. The place kind of had a Miami vibe to it, only without the same cultural/artistic ambience. You could do a full scale model of Danang in the U.S., and it wouldn't be all that dissimilar from any number of communities and towns on the gulf coast.
You get past Danang, and see a cluster of about five or so karst hills in the middle of an otherwise flat coastline--these are the Marble Mountains, and can be seen as the traditional starting point for the legendary R&R spot of China Beach, which is actually just a general location name for the long, crescent-shaped stretch of sand from Danang to Hoi An.
You pass what appear to be relics of a US military presence--half oval concrete airplane hanger like structures that are now used as garages and for various other purposes.
You can also see in various places where the ground was definitely built on and had been previously altered, even though no structures currently exist there on site--these sites could be the former locales of military bases, or merely something less historical. It would be interesting to view old military maps of the area and find out, though.
Then the road passes by a cluster of golf courses and walled off properties bearing the names of Greg Norman, Colin Montgomerie, the Hyatt, and Le Meridien. China Beach--at least the part that's closest to Danang--looks like it is going to explode in the next five to ten years with the amount of development occuring along its coast, as Vietnam attempts to market it as their "golf coast." Big changes are in store, and it would be interesting to come back in several years to see what the place looks like.
You pass more land that looks like it once held a development of some kind, given how depressed some of the sand and the grass is, and the small size of the trees dotting the properties indicate that they were planted rather recently.
Then, its past the Danang International Cable building before crossing over a river, passing more ricefields and finally arriving in the quaint and quiet town of Hoi An, where I will pick up from in my next post.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Rainbows and Rainfall--last post on Hue
A constant question people have asked me--including my parents--was whether or not I like travelling. I'd say about 80-90% of the time I loved being on my own--being my own boss, and only having to do what I wanted to do, and avoiding some of the petty arguments that can result when two people are in close quarters for long periods of time--arguments that probably wouldn't occur in normal circumstances (see my experience with AJ). There were certainly times that I was indeed a little bit lonely and wished for a travelling companion of some sort--especially when it came to getting pictures taken of me.
The nice thing about travelling alone, though, is that it makes you more approachable by local tourists and other tourists who might otherwise be intimidated by the presence of two or more westerners--it's human nature, and it occurs in the west as well. Assuming everything else is equal, who are you more likely to approach, a person on their own, or a group of people?
So, I was sitting in the shade underneath a tower overlooking the forbidden city, and reading some of McNamara's "In Retrospect," when a pair of vietnamese twin boys sit down next to me and start looking over my shoulder. We start to talk--one is more proficient in english than the other--and they are 14 and from Saigon (again, when I asked "ho chi minh city or saigon" they said "saigon") and were visiting their uncle who lives in Hue. The one that is more proficient in english actually wants to become an english teacher, and wanted to practice his english with someone, so I freely obliged--again, the nice thing about being on your own is that you can set your own schedule.
It was a nice little moment, and one that reflects the fact that if you can get past the touts and the people claiming to be your friends, most people in SE Asia are generally very nice and welcoming, but they are also extremely shy and reserved, so if they start to make an effort towards you, than it is best to encourage them and to put them at ease with stuff that will get them to laugh, the most common of which that I used was "your english, better than my [insert name of local language]." The nice thing about that when I said that, I wasn't lying either--i was being honest. I managed to make them laugh without confusing them or possibly lying to them--all very important things to avoid in dealing with cross-cultural communication.
I dragged my now sweaty rear-end back to the hostel and rested for a good part of the day, making reservations for the bus to Hoi An the next day.
Like clockwork, the monsoons arrived and dumped on Hue for about two hours between 2 and 4pm. I actually started to look forward to them, because after the rains fell, the temperature usually dropped by a couple of degrees, and humidity levels correspondingly decreased, making it relatively nice to walk around in the late afternoon.
Along with clearing out some of the humidity, the monsoons also somehow "cleared the skies"--long distance visibility drastically increased following the monsoons--meaning that if you were looking upriver from Hue, previously non-visible mountain ridges magically appeared, silhouetted in the fading light.
There was but one thing left on my "to do list" in Hue before I caught my bus the next morning, and that was taking a dragonboat ride down the Perfume River (yes, that's actually what it is called). So, I walked about three blocks to the main pier, and hired one for 10 bucks an hour (there was only about two hours of daylight left, and I didn't want to miss out on my last free beer, so I only did it for an hour).
In New Haven, CT its possible to go from zero to sketchy (in terms of neighborhoods) in about a block. In Hue, its possible to go from urban to rural in about five minutes. Within easy eyesight of urban Hue and probably a 20 minute drive (with bad traffic), a rural setting prevails with local residents living alongside the riverbanks and using personally built canoes/boats to get around. Dark green ferns are everywhere, and it is clear that native plant life could easily reclaim any abandoned structure within a decade, if not a span of several years.
As we reached the halfway point of the boatride, and the sun continues to fade, I looked up and saw that the monsoons have left another gift to those who chose to look skyward--a giant, vividly colored rainbow whose crisp colors and wide width come closer to matching the "ideal" rainbow than any other rainbow I've ever seen. It was just one of those moments whose full effect simply cannot be replicated on paper or in photos, no matter how great the photography or prose may be. You just simply had to be there.
After 8.5 weeks of travelling, certain things that once astounded now only generate yawns--(ie. doesn't that look like the same temple I saw last week?)--but there are still things capable of generating jaw-drop worthy awe, and this scene, with the sun's rays illuminating Hue, while green mountains loomed in the distance, a river ran in the foreground, and a giant rainbow floated overhead, had that power.
I personally don't agree with the common cultural belief that rainbows or other natural phenomena are meant to be viewed as omens. In hindsight, however, the rainbow was more than just an omen--it was a preview of things to come as I made my way down south along the Vietnamese Coast.
Now, since it was my last night in Hue, and the US England soccer game was on at 130am local time, I should have, in theory, stayed up drinking and watching the game. I was drained, however, and the road from Hue to Hoi An was legendary for its scenery. I knew that if I got to bed anytime past 1 or so, I would end up sleeping on the bus, and I didn't want to miss the sights along the way. So, while I indeed had a couple of drinks, and found a great place to go the next time I am in Hue--a place that somehow manages to attract both local restaurant staff and tourists in the area--I went to bed early and rested up.
Sleep versus Soccer--there really wasn't any doubt as to what I was going to do.
The nice thing about travelling alone, though, is that it makes you more approachable by local tourists and other tourists who might otherwise be intimidated by the presence of two or more westerners--it's human nature, and it occurs in the west as well. Assuming everything else is equal, who are you more likely to approach, a person on their own, or a group of people?
So, I was sitting in the shade underneath a tower overlooking the forbidden city, and reading some of McNamara's "In Retrospect," when a pair of vietnamese twin boys sit down next to me and start looking over my shoulder. We start to talk--one is more proficient in english than the other--and they are 14 and from Saigon (again, when I asked "ho chi minh city or saigon" they said "saigon") and were visiting their uncle who lives in Hue. The one that is more proficient in english actually wants to become an english teacher, and wanted to practice his english with someone, so I freely obliged--again, the nice thing about being on your own is that you can set your own schedule.
It was a nice little moment, and one that reflects the fact that if you can get past the touts and the people claiming to be your friends, most people in SE Asia are generally very nice and welcoming, but they are also extremely shy and reserved, so if they start to make an effort towards you, than it is best to encourage them and to put them at ease with stuff that will get them to laugh, the most common of which that I used was "your english, better than my [insert name of local language]." The nice thing about that when I said that, I wasn't lying either--i was being honest. I managed to make them laugh without confusing them or possibly lying to them--all very important things to avoid in dealing with cross-cultural communication.
I dragged my now sweaty rear-end back to the hostel and rested for a good part of the day, making reservations for the bus to Hoi An the next day.
Like clockwork, the monsoons arrived and dumped on Hue for about two hours between 2 and 4pm. I actually started to look forward to them, because after the rains fell, the temperature usually dropped by a couple of degrees, and humidity levels correspondingly decreased, making it relatively nice to walk around in the late afternoon.
Along with clearing out some of the humidity, the monsoons also somehow "cleared the skies"--long distance visibility drastically increased following the monsoons--meaning that if you were looking upriver from Hue, previously non-visible mountain ridges magically appeared, silhouetted in the fading light.
There was but one thing left on my "to do list" in Hue before I caught my bus the next morning, and that was taking a dragonboat ride down the Perfume River (yes, that's actually what it is called). So, I walked about three blocks to the main pier, and hired one for 10 bucks an hour (there was only about two hours of daylight left, and I didn't want to miss out on my last free beer, so I only did it for an hour).
In New Haven, CT its possible to go from zero to sketchy (in terms of neighborhoods) in about a block. In Hue, its possible to go from urban to rural in about five minutes. Within easy eyesight of urban Hue and probably a 20 minute drive (with bad traffic), a rural setting prevails with local residents living alongside the riverbanks and using personally built canoes/boats to get around. Dark green ferns are everywhere, and it is clear that native plant life could easily reclaim any abandoned structure within a decade, if not a span of several years.
As we reached the halfway point of the boatride, and the sun continues to fade, I looked up and saw that the monsoons have left another gift to those who chose to look skyward--a giant, vividly colored rainbow whose crisp colors and wide width come closer to matching the "ideal" rainbow than any other rainbow I've ever seen. It was just one of those moments whose full effect simply cannot be replicated on paper or in photos, no matter how great the photography or prose may be. You just simply had to be there.
After 8.5 weeks of travelling, certain things that once astounded now only generate yawns--(ie. doesn't that look like the same temple I saw last week?)--but there are still things capable of generating jaw-drop worthy awe, and this scene, with the sun's rays illuminating Hue, while green mountains loomed in the distance, a river ran in the foreground, and a giant rainbow floated overhead, had that power.
I personally don't agree with the common cultural belief that rainbows or other natural phenomena are meant to be viewed as omens. In hindsight, however, the rainbow was more than just an omen--it was a preview of things to come as I made my way down south along the Vietnamese Coast.
Now, since it was my last night in Hue, and the US England soccer game was on at 130am local time, I should have, in theory, stayed up drinking and watching the game. I was drained, however, and the road from Hue to Hoi An was legendary for its scenery. I knew that if I got to bed anytime past 1 or so, I would end up sleeping on the bus, and I didn't want to miss the sights along the way. So, while I indeed had a couple of drinks, and found a great place to go the next time I am in Hue--a place that somehow manages to attract both local restaurant staff and tourists in the area--I went to bed early and rested up.
Sleep versus Soccer--there really wasn't any doubt as to what I was going to do.
Backfill time!
It's official--I am back in Dallas--got in at 530 am tuesday morning, and I will now finally be able to backfill some of the stuff I left out, with the help of all the pictures that I have taken.
Mama would have been very pleased with my trip--I ended up losing somewhere between 10-12 pounds on the trip because of all the sweating and walking around I was doing.
Bear with me as I do this to the best of my ability.
Mama would have been very pleased with my trip--I ended up losing somewhere between 10-12 pounds on the trip because of all the sweating and walking around I was doing.
Bear with me as I do this to the best of my ability.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
No last minute changes
No last minute changes, as I sit here typing this from the Singapore Airport departure lounge, post customs--bags are checked through to DFW, and I have my boarding passes.
Will be doing some weird date hopping because of the international dateline.
Flight leaves singapore on monday, arrives in hong kong monday night, then my flight from hong kong to san francisco leaves at 1230am on tuesday, arrives at around 9pm on monday in sfo, and then my flight to dallas leaves around 130am local time--meaning that I actually fly back in time from Tuesday to Monday on one of my legs.
It was a great trip, and I still need to do some further posts to detail Vietnam, Singapore, and some other thoughts and experiences from the trip--besides, its good practice for me to get back in the habit of writing, considering I'm going to be doing a ton of that in late August.
Will be doing some weird date hopping because of the international dateline.
Flight leaves singapore on monday, arrives in hong kong monday night, then my flight from hong kong to san francisco leaves at 1230am on tuesday, arrives at around 9pm on monday in sfo, and then my flight to dallas leaves around 130am local time--meaning that I actually fly back in time from Tuesday to Monday on one of my legs.
It was a great trip, and I still need to do some further posts to detail Vietnam, Singapore, and some other thoughts and experiences from the trip--besides, its good practice for me to get back in the habit of writing, considering I'm going to be doing a ton of that in late August.
Singapore one last time
Well, I have arrived safely in Singapore for my night stop and will head to the airport around noonish for my 4pm flight--I stored one of my bags that is filled with my suits for the price of 5 bucks for 24 hours--and I need to do some repacking/sorting of materials.
I had a lot of fun last night in Saigon--I'll talk about details later, but let's just say I'm glad that my flight didn't leave until 3pm this afternoon.
Brief rants:
I fully expect airport markups no matter where I go--but the airport markups in vietnam and cambodia in the international terminals are absurd to the point of highway robbery. Prices are easily 4 times greater than what you would see in the street, and it stinks of one giant cash grab before you leave the country.
Other absurd cost: ATM fees. In some cases, they weren't that bad ($1 or so), but in Thailand, they were an astronomical 150 baht per withdrawal (just under 5 dollars).
I can confidently declare that the phenomenon of "body at the airport, brain left at home" is not isolated to the U.S.--it occurs everywhere. Even in Vietnam, although, to be fair, the offenders weren't Vietnamese, they were Singaporean and should know better. One extended family causing problems/delays at check-in--of course, I was behind them--and being borderline disruptive to the point where I thought the flight attendants were going to throw some of them off the airplane.
Also, if your toddler is unhappy or sick or hurt, do not under any circumstances take them onto an airplane. Your fellow passengers will tremendously appreciate the favor--a kid shrieked for the last 20 minutes flying into Singapore--some of the loudest screaming I've ever heard on an airplane.
I had a lot of fun last night in Saigon--I'll talk about details later, but let's just say I'm glad that my flight didn't leave until 3pm this afternoon.
Brief rants:
I fully expect airport markups no matter where I go--but the airport markups in vietnam and cambodia in the international terminals are absurd to the point of highway robbery. Prices are easily 4 times greater than what you would see in the street, and it stinks of one giant cash grab before you leave the country.
Other absurd cost: ATM fees. In some cases, they weren't that bad ($1 or so), but in Thailand, they were an astronomical 150 baht per withdrawal (just under 5 dollars).
I can confidently declare that the phenomenon of "body at the airport, brain left at home" is not isolated to the U.S.--it occurs everywhere. Even in Vietnam, although, to be fair, the offenders weren't Vietnamese, they were Singaporean and should know better. One extended family causing problems/delays at check-in--of course, I was behind them--and being borderline disruptive to the point where I thought the flight attendants were going to throw some of them off the airplane.
Also, if your toddler is unhappy or sick or hurt, do not under any circumstances take them onto an airplane. Your fellow passengers will tremendously appreciate the favor--a kid shrieked for the last 20 minutes flying into Singapore--some of the loudest screaming I've ever heard on an airplane.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
saigon
Saigon is crazy--people either love saigon and hate hanoi or vice versa. I love saigon and would stay a little bit longer, but it is expensive by vietnam standards (even though I managed to get a $30 hotel room for just $16 a night--and no, I didn't do anything illegal--all I did was walk into a hotel, look at the price list, begin to walk out saying that the price was too high, and the receptionist immediately knocked off almost half. Took a look at the room, and I was sold. I'm paying more than the going rate for aircon rooms--about 10-13 bucks, but I'm getting far more bang for my buck.)
I would truly love to stay and travel in SE Asia for longer, but the problem is that I have run out of Malarone--my anti-malaria medication. In theory, I should have been back in the U.S. a week ago, since you are supposed to take Malarone for a week once you leave malaria infested areas, but before I planned my vietnam excursion, I went on the CDC's website, and it said that malaria isn't a problem in Vietnam unless you go inland into the rural areas. I was sticking to the coast route where malaria is non-existent, so I could fulfill the week-long requirement in Vietnam.
I am also going to store some of my luggage at the Singapore Airport--because Singapore is such a major transit hub, they have safe, secure, and cheap luggage storage facilities. I had to buy another bag to carry my suits in, so that is what I will be storing--don't worry, I am not camping out at the airport--I have a hostel booked in Singapore, and will be spending the night there.
I would truly love to stay and travel in SE Asia for longer, but the problem is that I have run out of Malarone--my anti-malaria medication. In theory, I should have been back in the U.S. a week ago, since you are supposed to take Malarone for a week once you leave malaria infested areas, but before I planned my vietnam excursion, I went on the CDC's website, and it said that malaria isn't a problem in Vietnam unless you go inland into the rural areas. I was sticking to the coast route where malaria is non-existent, so I could fulfill the week-long requirement in Vietnam.
I am also going to store some of my luggage at the Singapore Airport--because Singapore is such a major transit hub, they have safe, secure, and cheap luggage storage facilities. I had to buy another bag to carry my suits in, so that is what I will be storing--don't worry, I am not camping out at the airport--I have a hostel booked in Singapore, and will be spending the night there.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
in saigon
arrived in saigon today--interesting ride on the plane.
both saigon and danang still have relics from the old us airbase.
both saigon and danang still have relics from the old us airbase.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Travel Plans
For such a relaxing place, Hoi An has plenty to keep me occupied--that and the fact that the rolling power outages (every other day, the power is down from 5am to 2pm--Vietnam relies on hydroelectricity. Because of el nino, it didn't rain as much--ergo, rolling power outages)--so, when I was ready to blog about Hoi An/China Beach/Hue-Hoi An ride, the power was down.
I am enjoying myself thoroughly--met a british girl whose parents own a cigar company--and one of their biggest clients is....Kinky Friedman, I shit you not. I was floored that she knew who the guy was--99% of the U.S. doesn't know who he is.
It is hot here, though--very hot.
Anyway, rather than sit on a train for 24 hours, I've decided to fly from Danang--a 20 minute ride away--to Saigon on the 17th on Jet Star flight 597, leaving at 5pm and getting in at 615pm.
I also booked the very last leg of my se asia tour, flying from Saigon on the 20th at about 3 in the afternoon, and arriving in Singapore at about 630pm on Jetstar 554.
Will post photos later when I get a spare moment.
I am enjoying myself thoroughly--met a british girl whose parents own a cigar company--and one of their biggest clients is....Kinky Friedman, I shit you not. I was floored that she knew who the guy was--99% of the U.S. doesn't know who he is.
It is hot here, though--very hot.
Anyway, rather than sit on a train for 24 hours, I've decided to fly from Danang--a 20 minute ride away--to Saigon on the 17th on Jet Star flight 597, leaving at 5pm and getting in at 615pm.
I also booked the very last leg of my se asia tour, flying from Saigon on the 20th at about 3 in the afternoon, and arriving in Singapore at about 630pm on Jetstar 554.
Will post photos later when I get a spare moment.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Abusing the Plastic
I will spend more money today since buying my airplane ticket way back in March.
Its 11am, and I haven't seen anything. Why? Because I went shopping.
Hoi An is the tailoring/suit capital of Vietnam--and you can good quality, made to measure items for nothing compared to the U.S.--and this is at the good places with positive customer feedback--I double checked, don't worry. Wool suits cost around $120--shirts about $15.
I've ordered a grand total of three suits, three shirts, and one jacket. A black pinstripe, and plain beige suit, with three shirts. I also have a three-piece suit and a jacket being made that I will just describe as "wildcards"--and will either make you laugh or cringe if you see me wearing them. I couldn't resist though.
I knew before coming to Vietnam that I would run out of my malaria medication while I'm here--it's a non-issue, though, since all the places that I'm visiting are very low risk, according to the CDC--but it means that I will not be extending my trip any further, because Malarone is one of the few drugs that cannot be obtained in Bangkok or Singapore.
Saigon will be my last stop on my whistlestop/flash bang tour of SE Asia(well, Singapore technically--but I would only be flying there the day before my flight leaves).
People are right--you definitely need more than two weeks to see Vietnam, and I will definitely be coming back to see the places I missed--sites like Dien Bien Phu, Ha Long Bay, Dalat, Pleiku, Hamburger Hill, and the Mekong Delta (which I might do on a day trip from Saigon).
Its 11am, and I haven't seen anything. Why? Because I went shopping.
Hoi An is the tailoring/suit capital of Vietnam--and you can good quality, made to measure items for nothing compared to the U.S.--and this is at the good places with positive customer feedback--I double checked, don't worry. Wool suits cost around $120--shirts about $15.
I've ordered a grand total of three suits, three shirts, and one jacket. A black pinstripe, and plain beige suit, with three shirts. I also have a three-piece suit and a jacket being made that I will just describe as "wildcards"--and will either make you laugh or cringe if you see me wearing them. I couldn't resist though.
I knew before coming to Vietnam that I would run out of my malaria medication while I'm here--it's a non-issue, though, since all the places that I'm visiting are very low risk, according to the CDC--but it means that I will not be extending my trip any further, because Malarone is one of the few drugs that cannot be obtained in Bangkok or Singapore.
Saigon will be my last stop on my whistlestop/flash bang tour of SE Asia(well, Singapore technically--but I would only be flying there the day before my flight leaves).
People are right--you definitely need more than two weeks to see Vietnam, and I will definitely be coming back to see the places I missed--sites like Dien Bien Phu, Ha Long Bay, Dalat, Pleiku, Hamburger Hill, and the Mekong Delta (which I might do on a day trip from Saigon).
Hue
Here is the long awaited post on Hue--I will do the beautiful drive from Hue to Hoi An tmw and couple that with a post on Hoi An. When I have time, I will launch into a discussion of what I've been reading.
I will reiterate my desire to handsomely reward someone who can create a cellphone mute button or mute button for people on skype/public telephones who speak too loudly. It's one of my biggest pet peeves. That and the motorbike/taxi/rikshaw drivers who wave at you eagerly and invite you to take a ride, and if you ignore them, continue to bug you. What part of "no, not interested" do they not understand? They can speak english well enough to describe the sites and locations in their city, so they clearly understand the word "no"--they just choose not to.
Woke up in the pre-dawn hour of 4am to take a 430am taxi to Hanoi's airport. I discovered that the only time Hanoi is truly quiet is at that hour--only took about 30 minutes to drive the 33kms out to the airfield (compared to an hour coming in).
Vietnam Airlines is very excited to join Skyteam (the air alliance led by Delta and Air France)--how excited? They haven't officially joined yet--they will in July 2010--but they already have an aircraft painted in a full skyteam livery, which I saw as my A320 powered out of the airport (also saw a pair of rusting Russian aircraft that the airline had long since retired) for takeoff bound for Hue, the imperial capital of Vietnam, and site of a big battle during the Vietnam War.
Bit of a cloudy ride, but flew about 15 miles off shore, and the coast was visible the entire way.
As we approached, the coastal mountains created some turbulence that led to a bit of a bumpy ride. Flew over the ricefields with the mountains to our left and straight ahead, and touched down at the Hue Airport, which is located on a slight incline, and was originally built by the U.S. during the Vietnam War.
I already made hostel reservations in Hue, at the sister hostel of the place I stayed in Hanoi. The place in Hue proved to be much better. Whereas in Hanoi, most of the western staff created an atmosphere of get drunk or go home--one of them outright questioned me why I wasn't drinking, and one told me that his job was to get people "pissed"--australian slang for trashed, the Vietnamese staff couldn't have been nicer and more helpful. In Hue, there was only one westerner--the manager, who was a nice enough guy--and the rest were Vietnamese--all as nice and helpful as their Hanoi counterparts. The Hue hostel in general was a little bit more relaxed--drink if you want to, but there's zero pressure. Of course, they did provide free beer between 5 and 6 for hostel guests (not swill either--bottled local stuff that tasted heavenly after the hot afternoon sun).
Nearly lost it at the Hue airport--I tried to take the airport bus instead of a taxi, but the bus literally sat there and wasn't moving for a good 20 minutes--and both planes had already left (Hue's a small airport). After being frustrated for sitting in the non-air conditioned bus, I just said screw it and took a cab in.
Dumped off my stuff at the hostel, and then proceeded to wander around. The Perfume River (yes that's its actual name--not a tourist slogan) flows right through the center of town, and like any decent city with a long riverfront, Hue has created a long green area alongside it and filled it with statues and benches--forming a natural meeting point for residents of the city (and indeed it does--what do Vietnamese in Hue do on a nice friday or a saturday night? They take their girlfriend/wife/children to the river and enjoy the evening). Hue, by the way, was in the middle of a two week long arts and music festival, so all sorts of displays and temporary arenas were constructed along the river.
Looking upriver, hills and mountains come into view, all covered with green trees.
Crossed the nearest bridge and walked to the walled citadel--a massive enclosure that was once Hue proper, and contains the Vietnamese Forbidden City--the city has grown up around it, but the brick walls are well-preserved, as are some of the original buildings sitting on lush tree-lined streets.
It was in the Citadel that I did something that I shouldn't have done--it only cost me 5 bucks, but I should have trusted my gut and high-tailed it when I got the chance--a guy on his motorbike with his family pulls up and tells me he is an english teacher and that he would like to show me around for free--I don't have to pay (warning sign right there--nothing in SE Asia is free, unless you include sweat). Since the guy was with his family, I let my guard down a bit, but I knew I should have high-tailed it out of there when he said he would be back in 15 minutes.
I kept walking around, hoping he would forget/see that I wasn't there and head elsewhere. But nope, he was persistent and managed to find me--that's when I should have said thanks but no thanks, but you get guilt-tripped because they sound so sincere and nice. The bottom line: you want people to leave you alone, you have to be what westerners would consider rude, but it is perfectly acceptable by SE Asia standards.
Guy finds me and he drives me around the old city--which was quite nice--the place is beautiful--lots of canals, trees, and gardens, and Hue natives have built their houses around them.
Go the guys house, and he tells me all about his relatives, and how it was his lucky day to meet me, and maybe I would show him around in the U.S. if he came to the U.S. He keeps insisting to take me on all these day trips and the like, and I keep politely declining. Finally get him to take me to Thien Mu--one of the most famous pagodas in Vietnam--and is gorgeous. Beautiful setting, but even more beautiful is the view upriver of the surrounding mountains and the local boats heading to and fro. I wish I could go more into depth, but the pictures speak for themselves--and I've taken a lot of pictures.
I purposely get the guy to drop me off a couple of blocks from my hostel, just in case. He tells me I don't have to pay, but I offer to give him some money for gas--I get out some money--offer him 30,000, but he sees my bills, and promptly grabs a 100,000 note (about five bucks)--I realize the money means more to him than me, but give me a freaking break--talk about a scam artist. I was just disgusted, and forced me to put up my guard even more.
Took a break, and hired a motorbike to take me to some of the imperial tombs in the afternoon. The tombs are upriver, and are built along the hillside. There are five sites, but you only really need to see two of them to get the full gist--especially when you do it in the afternoon, like I did, when it is boiling outside and you are sweating in places you didn't know you had sweatglands.
The tombs are spectacular--more like open air mausoleum than tombs, on well-manicured and landscaped grounds with ponds and various gardens. In terms of architecture--it is pretty similar to traditional chinese architecture--whereas the traditional architecture of Laos, Cambodia, and Thailand all share similar features, the mountain range running down west Vietnam appears to have formed a physical divide and prevented the spread of that tradition to Vietnam.
It was just hot as hell--easily the second hottest place I've been in other than Cambodia (Vietnam has the harsher sun and less havens from it, Cambodia has the hotter winds).
Like I said, the free beer at the hostel tasted great when you've just been outdoors in around 100+degree ready and a glaring sun.
Had an early wake up call (not so surprising--in these past 8.5 weeks, I've probably had more pre-630am wake up times than I've had in the past six years combined--including my 10pm wake up call for Merapi) to take the DMZ tour, which takes the entire day, mainly because of the considerable amount of driving involved.
I have to admit, I was somewhat disappointed by the DMZ tour--but most of that is due to my own expectations. When you imagine the DMZ, you think it will be a place like the borderland between South Korea and North Korea, that the area will be deserted and preserved the way it looked nearly 30 years ago.
That said, it's been 30 years--and Vietnam has been united since then. Life goes on, people move on, and the DMZ pretty much resembles the rest of the Vietnamese countryside--with one notable exception--all the buildings were built after 1975--lots of ricefields and farmers, with various villages along the highways. The legendary McNamara line is no more--and only a rusted American tank, somewhat hidden from the highway, shows where the line once stretched.
I would have probably gotten more out of the tour if I had done some reading beforehand, had grown up in the 60s, or was led by a vet who could point out what some of the sites used to look like.
We started out by driving along highway 9--the main east to west artery that was built originally by the French and is now part of a larger international route that links Vietnam to Thailand through Laos. During the Vietnam War, highway 9 was the main transit route for Americans, as American bases and airfields populated either side of the road. Very little remains, though, of these bases, aside from various depressions.
You drive up into the hills near the Lao border, and the views of the riverside and the hills are spectacular, and you begin to appreciate the difficulty of waging a war in these conditions. The Rockpile and Razorback Ridge are easily visible from highway 9, as is one river crossing of the Ho Chi Minh Trail.
The trip up highway 9 culminated at Khe Sanh--the site of an American base, and a bloody battle between the North Vietnamese and the Americans. The base is in a beautiful location--in a high valley surrounded by high mountains and hills. Little remains of the actual base though--only a few depressions where buildings were obviously situated, and the airstrip itself. The place is now one giant coffee growing plantation, except for the runway, which, for some reason, won't allow anything to grow on it. Because of the changing times, it is extremely difficult to imagine or picture the battle--but that doesn't make it any less real to those brave soldiers who endured it.
Drove back down Highway 9, past the DMZ and north to the town of Vinh Moc--notable because they built a series of underground tunnels where the villagers lived for six years. The war is most visible there, as bomb craters and depressions surround the site, and it is pretty amazing to think that an entire village was able to endure the war by hiding out in these tunnels.
Crossed over the traditional dividing river between North and South, where remnants of propaganda blasting loudspeakers still linger on both sides.
Again, the current state of the DMZ makes difficult to picture that a war once took place there--evidence is hidden, and you have to know what you are looking for in order to see signs that something took place--occasionally you see small circular depressions along the roadside that don't look natural, and the plant life is generally stunted--it all looks young and the forests are second growth--indicative of the defoliants used by the U.S. to clear the vegetation from the area.
Driving back to Hue, got caught up in the typical afternoon rain that falls, but makes for a spectacular scene. I've never seen a greener place--and it is vivid, kelly green, not dry faded green.
Of course, the advantage of the rain is that it actually cools off after it falls--and it feels so much nicer out.
Watched the world cup that night--didn't have much of a choice--no tv in any bar was showing anything else, although my hostel owner tried to keep it on Aussie Rules Football for as long as possible, and we had fun making fun of the soccer players (he isn't a fan, and neither am I--not until they eliminate diving).
Slept in a little bit the next day, since my body was drained from two straight pre 6am wakeups, and walked over to the Forbidden City--a beautiful place where the Vietnamese emperor once lived--like the tombs, the place looks very Chinese--although there is a big picture of Uncle Ho on the frontgate, just like Mao is on the Forbidden City in Beijing. Vietnamese tourists easily outnumbered western tourists by about four to one--as the former center of power of the Vietnamese ruling family, Hue is understandably a popular tourist destination for Vietnamese. Vietnamese tourists were all very nice and kind--and whenever I asked them about the ho chi minh city/saigon debate, all insisted that the city is called Saigon--a point that was most emphasized by Saigon natives.
Even though I was there in the morning, it got hot early and fast, and by noon or so I was wilting in the heat. I actually needed to take about a 2.5-3 hour break to fully recuperate I was so drained. Then the monsoons came early, which cooled things off, and I took a one hour boat ride on the perfume river.
The ride was nice in the fading afternoon light, and because the rain cleared out alot of the haze in the air, you could clearly see the outlines of mountains farther out--ones that I hadn't seen before from the same location. What made the trip, though, was a giant rainbow. It was easily the largest and most vivid rainbow that I have ever seen--and was awe-inspiring to look at.
I understandably chose sleep over soccer, and didn't watch the England-US game--a decision that I am more than happy with considering that if I had watched the game, I would have slept on the bus ride and missed out on four hours of spectacular scenery.
I will reiterate my desire to handsomely reward someone who can create a cellphone mute button or mute button for people on skype/public telephones who speak too loudly. It's one of my biggest pet peeves. That and the motorbike/taxi/rikshaw drivers who wave at you eagerly and invite you to take a ride, and if you ignore them, continue to bug you. What part of "no, not interested" do they not understand? They can speak english well enough to describe the sites and locations in their city, so they clearly understand the word "no"--they just choose not to.
Woke up in the pre-dawn hour of 4am to take a 430am taxi to Hanoi's airport. I discovered that the only time Hanoi is truly quiet is at that hour--only took about 30 minutes to drive the 33kms out to the airfield (compared to an hour coming in).
Vietnam Airlines is very excited to join Skyteam (the air alliance led by Delta and Air France)--how excited? They haven't officially joined yet--they will in July 2010--but they already have an aircraft painted in a full skyteam livery, which I saw as my A320 powered out of the airport (also saw a pair of rusting Russian aircraft that the airline had long since retired) for takeoff bound for Hue, the imperial capital of Vietnam, and site of a big battle during the Vietnam War.
Bit of a cloudy ride, but flew about 15 miles off shore, and the coast was visible the entire way.
As we approached, the coastal mountains created some turbulence that led to a bit of a bumpy ride. Flew over the ricefields with the mountains to our left and straight ahead, and touched down at the Hue Airport, which is located on a slight incline, and was originally built by the U.S. during the Vietnam War.
I already made hostel reservations in Hue, at the sister hostel of the place I stayed in Hanoi. The place in Hue proved to be much better. Whereas in Hanoi, most of the western staff created an atmosphere of get drunk or go home--one of them outright questioned me why I wasn't drinking, and one told me that his job was to get people "pissed"--australian slang for trashed, the Vietnamese staff couldn't have been nicer and more helpful. In Hue, there was only one westerner--the manager, who was a nice enough guy--and the rest were Vietnamese--all as nice and helpful as their Hanoi counterparts. The Hue hostel in general was a little bit more relaxed--drink if you want to, but there's zero pressure. Of course, they did provide free beer between 5 and 6 for hostel guests (not swill either--bottled local stuff that tasted heavenly after the hot afternoon sun).
Nearly lost it at the Hue airport--I tried to take the airport bus instead of a taxi, but the bus literally sat there and wasn't moving for a good 20 minutes--and both planes had already left (Hue's a small airport). After being frustrated for sitting in the non-air conditioned bus, I just said screw it and took a cab in.
Dumped off my stuff at the hostel, and then proceeded to wander around. The Perfume River (yes that's its actual name--not a tourist slogan) flows right through the center of town, and like any decent city with a long riverfront, Hue has created a long green area alongside it and filled it with statues and benches--forming a natural meeting point for residents of the city (and indeed it does--what do Vietnamese in Hue do on a nice friday or a saturday night? They take their girlfriend/wife/children to the river and enjoy the evening). Hue, by the way, was in the middle of a two week long arts and music festival, so all sorts of displays and temporary arenas were constructed along the river.
Looking upriver, hills and mountains come into view, all covered with green trees.
Crossed the nearest bridge and walked to the walled citadel--a massive enclosure that was once Hue proper, and contains the Vietnamese Forbidden City--the city has grown up around it, but the brick walls are well-preserved, as are some of the original buildings sitting on lush tree-lined streets.
It was in the Citadel that I did something that I shouldn't have done--it only cost me 5 bucks, but I should have trusted my gut and high-tailed it when I got the chance--a guy on his motorbike with his family pulls up and tells me he is an english teacher and that he would like to show me around for free--I don't have to pay (warning sign right there--nothing in SE Asia is free, unless you include sweat). Since the guy was with his family, I let my guard down a bit, but I knew I should have high-tailed it out of there when he said he would be back in 15 minutes.
I kept walking around, hoping he would forget/see that I wasn't there and head elsewhere. But nope, he was persistent and managed to find me--that's when I should have said thanks but no thanks, but you get guilt-tripped because they sound so sincere and nice. The bottom line: you want people to leave you alone, you have to be what westerners would consider rude, but it is perfectly acceptable by SE Asia standards.
Guy finds me and he drives me around the old city--which was quite nice--the place is beautiful--lots of canals, trees, and gardens, and Hue natives have built their houses around them.
Go the guys house, and he tells me all about his relatives, and how it was his lucky day to meet me, and maybe I would show him around in the U.S. if he came to the U.S. He keeps insisting to take me on all these day trips and the like, and I keep politely declining. Finally get him to take me to Thien Mu--one of the most famous pagodas in Vietnam--and is gorgeous. Beautiful setting, but even more beautiful is the view upriver of the surrounding mountains and the local boats heading to and fro. I wish I could go more into depth, but the pictures speak for themselves--and I've taken a lot of pictures.
I purposely get the guy to drop me off a couple of blocks from my hostel, just in case. He tells me I don't have to pay, but I offer to give him some money for gas--I get out some money--offer him 30,000, but he sees my bills, and promptly grabs a 100,000 note (about five bucks)--I realize the money means more to him than me, but give me a freaking break--talk about a scam artist. I was just disgusted, and forced me to put up my guard even more.
Took a break, and hired a motorbike to take me to some of the imperial tombs in the afternoon. The tombs are upriver, and are built along the hillside. There are five sites, but you only really need to see two of them to get the full gist--especially when you do it in the afternoon, like I did, when it is boiling outside and you are sweating in places you didn't know you had sweatglands.
The tombs are spectacular--more like open air mausoleum than tombs, on well-manicured and landscaped grounds with ponds and various gardens. In terms of architecture--it is pretty similar to traditional chinese architecture--whereas the traditional architecture of Laos, Cambodia, and Thailand all share similar features, the mountain range running down west Vietnam appears to have formed a physical divide and prevented the spread of that tradition to Vietnam.
It was just hot as hell--easily the second hottest place I've been in other than Cambodia (Vietnam has the harsher sun and less havens from it, Cambodia has the hotter winds).
Like I said, the free beer at the hostel tasted great when you've just been outdoors in around 100+degree ready and a glaring sun.
Had an early wake up call (not so surprising--in these past 8.5 weeks, I've probably had more pre-630am wake up times than I've had in the past six years combined--including my 10pm wake up call for Merapi) to take the DMZ tour, which takes the entire day, mainly because of the considerable amount of driving involved.
I have to admit, I was somewhat disappointed by the DMZ tour--but most of that is due to my own expectations. When you imagine the DMZ, you think it will be a place like the borderland between South Korea and North Korea, that the area will be deserted and preserved the way it looked nearly 30 years ago.
That said, it's been 30 years--and Vietnam has been united since then. Life goes on, people move on, and the DMZ pretty much resembles the rest of the Vietnamese countryside--with one notable exception--all the buildings were built after 1975--lots of ricefields and farmers, with various villages along the highways. The legendary McNamara line is no more--and only a rusted American tank, somewhat hidden from the highway, shows where the line once stretched.
I would have probably gotten more out of the tour if I had done some reading beforehand, had grown up in the 60s, or was led by a vet who could point out what some of the sites used to look like.
We started out by driving along highway 9--the main east to west artery that was built originally by the French and is now part of a larger international route that links Vietnam to Thailand through Laos. During the Vietnam War, highway 9 was the main transit route for Americans, as American bases and airfields populated either side of the road. Very little remains, though, of these bases, aside from various depressions.
You drive up into the hills near the Lao border, and the views of the riverside and the hills are spectacular, and you begin to appreciate the difficulty of waging a war in these conditions. The Rockpile and Razorback Ridge are easily visible from highway 9, as is one river crossing of the Ho Chi Minh Trail.
The trip up highway 9 culminated at Khe Sanh--the site of an American base, and a bloody battle between the North Vietnamese and the Americans. The base is in a beautiful location--in a high valley surrounded by high mountains and hills. Little remains of the actual base though--only a few depressions where buildings were obviously situated, and the airstrip itself. The place is now one giant coffee growing plantation, except for the runway, which, for some reason, won't allow anything to grow on it. Because of the changing times, it is extremely difficult to imagine or picture the battle--but that doesn't make it any less real to those brave soldiers who endured it.
Drove back down Highway 9, past the DMZ and north to the town of Vinh Moc--notable because they built a series of underground tunnels where the villagers lived for six years. The war is most visible there, as bomb craters and depressions surround the site, and it is pretty amazing to think that an entire village was able to endure the war by hiding out in these tunnels.
Crossed over the traditional dividing river between North and South, where remnants of propaganda blasting loudspeakers still linger on both sides.
Again, the current state of the DMZ makes difficult to picture that a war once took place there--evidence is hidden, and you have to know what you are looking for in order to see signs that something took place--occasionally you see small circular depressions along the roadside that don't look natural, and the plant life is generally stunted--it all looks young and the forests are second growth--indicative of the defoliants used by the U.S. to clear the vegetation from the area.
Driving back to Hue, got caught up in the typical afternoon rain that falls, but makes for a spectacular scene. I've never seen a greener place--and it is vivid, kelly green, not dry faded green.
Of course, the advantage of the rain is that it actually cools off after it falls--and it feels so much nicer out.
Watched the world cup that night--didn't have much of a choice--no tv in any bar was showing anything else, although my hostel owner tried to keep it on Aussie Rules Football for as long as possible, and we had fun making fun of the soccer players (he isn't a fan, and neither am I--not until they eliminate diving).
Slept in a little bit the next day, since my body was drained from two straight pre 6am wakeups, and walked over to the Forbidden City--a beautiful place where the Vietnamese emperor once lived--like the tombs, the place looks very Chinese--although there is a big picture of Uncle Ho on the frontgate, just like Mao is on the Forbidden City in Beijing. Vietnamese tourists easily outnumbered western tourists by about four to one--as the former center of power of the Vietnamese ruling family, Hue is understandably a popular tourist destination for Vietnamese. Vietnamese tourists were all very nice and kind--and whenever I asked them about the ho chi minh city/saigon debate, all insisted that the city is called Saigon--a point that was most emphasized by Saigon natives.
Even though I was there in the morning, it got hot early and fast, and by noon or so I was wilting in the heat. I actually needed to take about a 2.5-3 hour break to fully recuperate I was so drained. Then the monsoons came early, which cooled things off, and I took a one hour boat ride on the perfume river.
The ride was nice in the fading afternoon light, and because the rain cleared out alot of the haze in the air, you could clearly see the outlines of mountains farther out--ones that I hadn't seen before from the same location. What made the trip, though, was a giant rainbow. It was easily the largest and most vivid rainbow that I have ever seen--and was awe-inspiring to look at.
I understandably chose sleep over soccer, and didn't watch the England-US game--a decision that I am more than happy with considering that if I had watched the game, I would have slept on the bus ride and missed out on four hours of spectacular scenery.
Post delay once more
I was going to try to post a recap of Hue and my bus ride from Hue to Hoi an--one of the most scenic bus rides I've ever taken--but I've only been able to find one internet cafe that is not in my hotel/hostel, and unfortunately that internet cafe is right next to a busy street--lots of motorbike engines and horns; a construction site--lots of noise; and somehow only manages to only have one working oscillating fan during the hottest part of the day.
Sorry, but it will have to wait--the extra noise coupled with my participation in a wet tshirt contest isn't worth enduring.
Sorry, but it will have to wait--the extra noise coupled with my participation in a wet tshirt contest isn't worth enduring.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Hue Delay
Sorry for the delay in posting--I assure you I am alive and well--the problem is that my hostel only has two computers and I'd rather not be a computer hog. Unfortunately, this post will be brief because the internet cafe I am at, for whatever reason, has a funky keyboard that is attuned to a non-english language. which means that i can't type as fast as I want, and it is a pain in the rear end to finish words. For example: hơ ảe you today?--me trying to say hơ ảe you on thí computê.
brìe summảy ò hue
ví sit citadel, old city, fỏbiđen city
old nguyen tombs
beautìul rivẻ setting
did the dmz tỏu ýêteday (bit ò a díappointment, but i ưill ẽplain latẻ)
mónôn séaon hẻe
grên rice fields
frê bêr at hótel
vẻy social atmóphẻ
vietnam ảiliné skyteam joy
taking lót ò pictúe
scammed by "teachẻ"
hottét place othẻ than cambodia
I just typed all that without making any changes to the words.
In case you are interested what I have been reading, though, hêre are the books that I've read ỏ am reading on the trip:
Lord Jim, by Joseph Conrad
The Ravens by ChristophẻR Robbins (u.s. pilots in the lao secret war)
The Gate by Francois Bizot (westerner's memoir of his time in a khmer rouge prison camp)
In Retrospect by Robert McNamâra (a must read, even if your copy was bought on the streets of bangkok and has more typos than this email)
I didn't read a book for one month, because I was toting around the decline and fall of the roman empire with me, which bored me to tears and I tried to avoid reading it all costs. ẠJ called me out on it in Laos, and i've been reading ưhenẻvẻ i get the chance nơ.
Going to Hoi An tmw.
brìe summảy ò hue
ví sit citadel, old city, fỏbiđen city
old nguyen tombs
beautìul rivẻ setting
did the dmz tỏu ýêteday (bit ò a díappointment, but i ưill ẽplain latẻ)
mónôn séaon hẻe
grên rice fields
frê bêr at hótel
vẻy social atmóphẻ
vietnam ảiliné skyteam joy
taking lót ò pictúe
scammed by "teachẻ"
hottét place othẻ than cambodia
I just typed all that without making any changes to the words.
In case you are interested what I have been reading, though, hêre are the books that I've read ỏ am reading on the trip:
Lord Jim, by Joseph Conrad
The Ravens by ChristophẻR Robbins (u.s. pilots in the lao secret war)
The Gate by Francois Bizot (westerner's memoir of his time in a khmer rouge prison camp)
In Retrospect by Robert McNamâra (a must read, even if your copy was bought on the streets of bangkok and has more typos than this email)
I didn't read a book for one month, because I was toting around the decline and fall of the roman empire with me, which bored me to tears and I tried to avoid reading it all costs. ẠJ called me out on it in Laos, and i've been reading ưhenẻvẻ i get the chance nơ.
Going to Hoi An tmw.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
DIY Halong Bay in the Ricefields
So, I didn't go to Ha Long Bay--that doesn't mean that I didn't get my fill of the karst landscape, though. About two hours away from Hanoi (three according to LP...) via the public bus which was actually better and nicer than some of the "v.i.p" buses that I've taken in other countries.
I honestly don't remember when my last haircut was--so, this morning, when I woke up at 6am, I go to the bathroom, and discover that I could pass for an 80s soft rock singer--my yellow mane looking almost like a mullet, as it floated above my head. Fortunately, I spared others the sight of me looking like Hall and Oates, and tamed the mane via a brief shower.
I was going to take the night train to Hue tonight, and I figured, like I did last night, that this is se asia--booking less than 24 hours in advance isn't a problem, I'll get it, etc. Well, there was a problem--the only seats available on the night train to Hue were "hard sleepers." If I was travelling with someone else, I might have considered it, but I'm not, so I just decided to hop on a plane tmw morning--I actually get to Hue earlier than the train gets in, and thus, don't have to waste a day. And the plane wasn't that much more expensive than what I would have paid for a sleeper seat on the train if I had gotten a first class or a soft sleeper.
Looking up other options for what to do for the day, I discovered in the LP guidebook a place called Tam Coc, which they described as Ha Long Bay in the ricefields. I figured I had nothing else to lose, so I might as well do it. Took a motorbike to the bus station, and was greeted by the site of the typical polluted haze over Hanoi.
After being ushered through the bus station where I bought my ticket, I get on a bus--and I sit--and sit--and sit. The bus leaves every hour and I got there with 45 minutes to spare. Fortunately, it was airconditioned--something I wasn't necessarily expecting. We finally get started, slowing down every so often to pull in additional passengers, and then hit the road. Of course, the serenade of honking never ends--and my head is basically pounding by the halfway point. View from the road is interesting, as you see the ridgeline of karst mountains outlining the foreground of the green and yellow ricefields. Interestingly, for a majority buddhist country, there are occasional churches plopped out in the middle of the ricefields.
Get to Ninh Binh--the bus stop, and a motorbike driver promptly swoops in and takes me to Tam Coc. A word about Vietnamese motorbike drivers for hire--though traffic may be a mess--chaos doesn't even begin to describe it--they are all equipped with an additional helmet for their passenger--a first in SE Asia--and they insist that you wear it. Of course, the helmet doesn't really cover all that much--just the crown of the head--think of it as a fortified ball cap--but it is nice to know that they at least care, in theory, about their passenger's safety.
Tam Coc is basically a river through the karst landscape that rises above the ricefields. It certainly spectacular, but, as blase as this sounds, once you see the first couple of karsts, it kind of starts to get a little boring, especially when the sun is beating down on you. I was glad that the boat ride I took was only the standard two hours--in hindsight, I'm glad I didn't do the Ha Long Bay cruise--I think I would have been bored shitless after the first couple of hours, and probably subsequently disgusted by the rest of the booze cruisers.
Interesting/funny story of the day: after getting back to the bus station, I had to use the toilet. My problem: I don't know the Vietnamese word for toilet. Whoops. When I said toilet the first time, they pointed to their watch thinking I had said something about the time. Acting like a dumb/stupid westerner who comes to a place without knowing the language, and expecting the locals to speak english perfectly, I repeated the word toilet, only saying it louder. When they, not so surprisingly, didn't understand what I was saying, I did one of the most awkward sign language gestures of my life: I mimicked unzipping my pants and holding my genitalia as any normal male would do when they pissed. It might have been awkward, but, hey, it worked--they realized what I wanted and pointed directly to the toilet--and I was able to relieve myself, as well as probably be the talk of the local bus station for a couple of days, as the guys I tried to ask started laughing, and I saw them imitating me as I walked back.
It was certainly a fine way to kill a day, but I'm glad to be moving down to Hue and seeing the rest of Vietnam, even if it means a 4am wakeup call to get to the airport. It will be nice to get away from the horns. My general plan--see the citadel and some of the tombs tmw, and then the next day, do a DMZ tour--Hue was very close to the DMZ, and its airport started off as an American forward landing strip.
I honestly don't remember when my last haircut was--so, this morning, when I woke up at 6am, I go to the bathroom, and discover that I could pass for an 80s soft rock singer--my yellow mane looking almost like a mullet, as it floated above my head. Fortunately, I spared others the sight of me looking like Hall and Oates, and tamed the mane via a brief shower.
I was going to take the night train to Hue tonight, and I figured, like I did last night, that this is se asia--booking less than 24 hours in advance isn't a problem, I'll get it, etc. Well, there was a problem--the only seats available on the night train to Hue were "hard sleepers." If I was travelling with someone else, I might have considered it, but I'm not, so I just decided to hop on a plane tmw morning--I actually get to Hue earlier than the train gets in, and thus, don't have to waste a day. And the plane wasn't that much more expensive than what I would have paid for a sleeper seat on the train if I had gotten a first class or a soft sleeper.
Looking up other options for what to do for the day, I discovered in the LP guidebook a place called Tam Coc, which they described as Ha Long Bay in the ricefields. I figured I had nothing else to lose, so I might as well do it. Took a motorbike to the bus station, and was greeted by the site of the typical polluted haze over Hanoi.
After being ushered through the bus station where I bought my ticket, I get on a bus--and I sit--and sit--and sit. The bus leaves every hour and I got there with 45 minutes to spare. Fortunately, it was airconditioned--something I wasn't necessarily expecting. We finally get started, slowing down every so often to pull in additional passengers, and then hit the road. Of course, the serenade of honking never ends--and my head is basically pounding by the halfway point. View from the road is interesting, as you see the ridgeline of karst mountains outlining the foreground of the green and yellow ricefields. Interestingly, for a majority buddhist country, there are occasional churches plopped out in the middle of the ricefields.
Get to Ninh Binh--the bus stop, and a motorbike driver promptly swoops in and takes me to Tam Coc. A word about Vietnamese motorbike drivers for hire--though traffic may be a mess--chaos doesn't even begin to describe it--they are all equipped with an additional helmet for their passenger--a first in SE Asia--and they insist that you wear it. Of course, the helmet doesn't really cover all that much--just the crown of the head--think of it as a fortified ball cap--but it is nice to know that they at least care, in theory, about their passenger's safety.
Tam Coc is basically a river through the karst landscape that rises above the ricefields. It certainly spectacular, but, as blase as this sounds, once you see the first couple of karsts, it kind of starts to get a little boring, especially when the sun is beating down on you. I was glad that the boat ride I took was only the standard two hours--in hindsight, I'm glad I didn't do the Ha Long Bay cruise--I think I would have been bored shitless after the first couple of hours, and probably subsequently disgusted by the rest of the booze cruisers.
Interesting/funny story of the day: after getting back to the bus station, I had to use the toilet. My problem: I don't know the Vietnamese word for toilet. Whoops. When I said toilet the first time, they pointed to their watch thinking I had said something about the time. Acting like a dumb/stupid westerner who comes to a place without knowing the language, and expecting the locals to speak english perfectly, I repeated the word toilet, only saying it louder. When they, not so surprisingly, didn't understand what I was saying, I did one of the most awkward sign language gestures of my life: I mimicked unzipping my pants and holding my genitalia as any normal male would do when they pissed. It might have been awkward, but, hey, it worked--they realized what I wanted and pointed directly to the toilet--and I was able to relieve myself, as well as probably be the talk of the local bus station for a couple of days, as the guys I tried to ask started laughing, and I saw them imitating me as I walked back.
It was certainly a fine way to kill a day, but I'm glad to be moving down to Hue and seeing the rest of Vietnam, even if it means a 4am wakeup call to get to the airport. It will be nice to get away from the horns. My general plan--see the citadel and some of the tombs tmw, and then the next day, do a DMZ tour--Hue was very close to the DMZ, and its airport started off as an American forward landing strip.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Meeting Uncle Ho
Moscow has Comrade Lenin. Beijing has Chairman Mao. Hanoi has Uncle Ho.
Despite what you might think, Uncle Ho (Ho Chi Minh to us westerners) isn't buried in his namesake city, the former Saigon. Actually, he isn't buried at all. He's embalmed and on display in a mausoleum in Hanoi--and if you want a true Vietnamese cultural experience, join the hordes of Vietnamese, and wait in "line" to pay your respects to the man.
Why did I put "line" in quotes? There's no such thing as a "line" in Vietnam. At least to check your bag. You'd think people might be a little more respectful, considering this is probably one of the holiest "nationalist" sites in Vietnam, but nope. Elbows fly, people jostle for position--and I think some of them were doing it deliberately, just because they could get away with it. The concept of "personal space" is about as foreign in Vietnam as my fair skin and yellow hair.
It probably took about 30-45 minutes for the line to finally enter the mausoleum itself--and native vietnamese outnumber westerners by a margin of about 40:1, if not more. Communist pomp and pageantry is on full display here--with white gloved, white uniformed, white hatted guards, whose formal dress is accented by the polished brass buttons and buckles, and various medals--all marching in parade form.
Despite what you might think, Uncle Ho (Ho Chi Minh to us westerners) isn't buried in his namesake city, the former Saigon. Actually, he isn't buried at all. He's embalmed and on display in a mausoleum in Hanoi--and if you want a true Vietnamese cultural experience, join the hordes of Vietnamese, and wait in "line" to pay your respects to the man.
Why did I put "line" in quotes? There's no such thing as a "line" in Vietnam. At least to check your bag. You'd think people might be a little more respectful, considering this is probably one of the holiest "nationalist" sites in Vietnam, but nope. Elbows fly, people jostle for position--and I think some of them were doing it deliberately, just because they could get away with it. The concept of "personal space" is about as foreign in Vietnam as my fair skin and yellow hair.
It probably took about 30-45 minutes for the line to finally enter the mausoleum itself--and native vietnamese outnumber westerners by a margin of about 40:1, if not more. Communist pomp and pageantry is on full display here--with white gloved, white uniformed, white hatted guards, whose formal dress is accented by the polished brass buttons and buckles, and various medals--all marching in parade form.
They change guards or add a new wreath every 15-20 minutes or so, which pauses the entire line for a couple of minutes. Of course, you have to check your camera (which magically winds up at another place by the time you finish), and are serenaded by the sounds of Vietnamese singing patriotic hymns on some of the lcd boards along the line.
The mausoleum itself screams eastern bloc communism, but is not nearly as brutal looking as other such structures. The best way for me to describe it would be a communist interpretation of a traditional greek temple--dark gray marble, with square columns, forming a solid mass that towers over the flat landscape.
Once inside the mausoleum, which is thankfully air conditioned, the lines end and its pretty much a free for all. The inside is dimly lit, but also very clean--kind of felt like I was back in the Beinecke rare book library, actually--you struggle to keep your footing as the crowds swarm around you before you enter the chamber. Uncle Ho sits in a glass case lit by reddish light, and is separated from you by a waist high wall forming a barrier, and one vietnamese guard stands by each corner of the glass case. Other guards line the walkway, urging people around, tugging on your hand and wrist urging you to move along. They are harsher to the vietnamese, though--I saw one guard physically yank one guy's hand out of his pocket, as if to urge him to be respectful. I won't fully describe Uncle Ho, for fear of possible censorship and or expulsion (I don't know how strict the party is in Vietnam, nor do I care to find out), but I'll write two words: Madame Tussaud's.
It is a good thing, though, that Uncle Ho is embalmed--for the avowed communist would probably be rolling over in his grave if he saw the scene around his mausoleum. The best example of the fact that though the U.S. may have lost the physical war, we have won the ideological war, can be seen just yards from where he now lies for eternity--small kiosks, and some not so small kiosks, sponsored by some not so small corporations (Fujifilm anybody?) line the pathways in the area surrounding his mausoleum. A Vietnamese-version of Starbucks sits alongside the line. Vendors sell various knicknacks and chotchkes. Vietnamese schoolchildren walk into his tomb wearing hats provided to them by Yamaha and designer (or at least, designer knock off) blue jeans. Vietnam is indeed CINO.
Walked the brief distance along Dien Bien Phu avenue (the Vietnamese glorify this battle all over the city--it would be like Washington D.C. having one of its main thoroughfares named Yorktown) to the Army Museum, bracing myself for the propaganda that I will almost assuredly see and encounter. I didn't know it was possible, but my blood managed to boil more at the Army Museum than at the Revolution museum. You walk through the usual displays about the french and the like, and then you hit the American area--among other items, on display is the exact tank used to break the gate at the Saigon Presidential Palace.
The stuff that really got to me were the various relics of American soldiers and downed airmen present throughout the section--they have old flight helmets, old army/air force clothing, personal possessions, and even the manufacturing serial plates from downed aircraft. It was only natural to wonder about the fate of those whose items were on display. Were they killed instantly? Were they captured and imprisoned? Did they ever return back to the U.S.? What about their families and the lives that they left back home? How many of them left wives and children who were told the news that their husband/father was not coming back alive? How many know that their husband/brother/son/father's gear is now on display in a museum as a war trophy?
Captions of villagers and vietnamese soldiers who killed many Americans as heroes also incensed me. Most of the Americans in Vietnam weren't there voluntarily--they were conscripts, fighting in a war that from a foreign policy standpoint, didn't make a whole lot of sense--fighting in a place that most of them had probably never heard about until the 60s.
Look, I understand that is only natural for any ruling party to build a national heroic narrative--every country does it--but it is weird, as an American, to be on the otherside of that narrative--as the enemy, as the "foreign devil," as the "imperialist"--but I just thought the displays in Hanoi were just over the top in their absurdity--they didn't make even the slightest attempt of telling the entire story--it is merely about glorifying the communist party.
Next to the museum, in some outside yards, are various military aircraft on display--some captured war booty in perfect condition, some legendary Vietnamese fighter planes/tanks responsible for all sorts of "heroic deeds."
The museum itself is across the street from a larger than life sized black marble statue of Vladimir Lenin, in Lenin Park.
You can't help noticing the irony--communism, a governing philosophy built around the idea of eliminating the elite and providing for everyone, breeding a culture that glorifies several figures, and devoting gosh knows how much money to insuring that the memories and the memorials of these leaders are in immaculate condition, while some of their countrymen continue to live in poverty around them. You can only wonder what Chairman Mao and Uncle Ho would think about the mausoleums? Would they be corrupted and enjoy themselves, or would they be ideologically pure and denounce such displays as overly extravagant--a sign that the party has been corrupted by the bourgeoisie?
Spent the rest of the day wandering around the old quarter, revealing that Hanoi can be extremely disorienting--but it was great to explore, and see the narrow alleyways. Tried some Bia Hoi--or fresh beer--a local specialty--that pretty much tastes like non-alcoholic beer, and its also dirt cheap--25 cents a glass. Walked down the park in the center of Hanoi--Hoa Kiem lake, which is simply beautiful, and the symbolic center of Hanoi--barring the sight of vietnamese and some chinese pagodas, you could have easily been in the center of some european city--that's what it felt like.
As I mentioned previously, I did not go to Halong Bay--instead today I went to Ninh Binh to go see Tam Coc--an experience that I will describe a little later.
The night trains to Hue were all booked, so instead, I am flying to Hue at 630am tmw morning on Vietnam Airlines.
Swing and a miss
So, I had considered going to Ha Long Bay, but, for whatever reason, was kind of turned off by the tours my hostel was offering--namely, they were basically booze cruises, and I tend to get bored pretty quickly of sitting around in the sun with nothing to do--they are also relatively expensive (by vietnam standards). Besides, I take two medicines that work on my liver, which means that my liver can't keep up (nor do I really want to keep up) with these gap year brits, and aussies and kiwis that can drink like fish anyway. The other options I was looking at didn't really have the same appeal to me, namely because I was afraid that I was going to be stuck with a bunch of old geezers. Of course, I change my mind when tonight I happen to meet a bunch of people who I actually like and who are going on the tour, but, of course, the tour is all booked up. Oh well--to be fair, while the scenery looks amazing, if I had really wanted to do it, I would have had it booked well in advance, and I was kind of mixed on it. I'm not much of a beach/bay person, and I'd probably increase my skin cancer risk tenfold.
What does that mean? That means that I have an unexpected day with nothing to do, depending on how much Vietnam Airlines charges to fly to Hue (considering how far the Hanoi airport is from Hanoi, I'm really not so sure I want to take that haul out there again). Instead, what I will do is probably find a good day trip, and do that, and come back in time to take the night train to Hue. Day tripping to Halong bay is not really much of an option, considering it is a 3.5 hour bus ride there, one way.
To be honest, I might have to "kill a day" but I'd also gain a day, and from what I've been hearing, as great as Ha Long bay might be, Hue, and specifically Hoi An, is much more of my "style" and what I would rather be doing anyway--wandering around and exploring, instead of being stuck on a boat. Those of you who know me know that I have somewhat limited patience and can be restless at times, and I'm pretty sure that the boat thing would probably get old after a couple of hours.
The other alternative, though, is to take a ten hour bus to Hue, and get to see the countryside in the daytime. I can book a hostel in advance, and have that arranged. Whatever happens, as usual, I will keep you posted.
What does that mean? That means that I have an unexpected day with nothing to do, depending on how much Vietnam Airlines charges to fly to Hue (considering how far the Hanoi airport is from Hanoi, I'm really not so sure I want to take that haul out there again). Instead, what I will do is probably find a good day trip, and do that, and come back in time to take the night train to Hue. Day tripping to Halong bay is not really much of an option, considering it is a 3.5 hour bus ride there, one way.
To be honest, I might have to "kill a day" but I'd also gain a day, and from what I've been hearing, as great as Ha Long bay might be, Hue, and specifically Hoi An, is much more of my "style" and what I would rather be doing anyway--wandering around and exploring, instead of being stuck on a boat. Those of you who know me know that I have somewhat limited patience and can be restless at times, and I'm pretty sure that the boat thing would probably get old after a couple of hours.
The other alternative, though, is to take a ten hour bus to Hue, and get to see the countryside in the daytime. I can book a hostel in advance, and have that arranged. Whatever happens, as usual, I will keep you posted.
Hanoi rundown
Okay, so I walk the 2 or 3 blocks to the Hanoi Hilton, which is not a luxury resort, although an office building now occupies about half of the original space.
The building is a yellow painted, colonial structure, and, from the outside, doesn't look like a prison. There are some high walls, and some 2 story buildings built around courtyards, but it wouldn't look out of place as a government office building or the like. Given that the communist party is in power in Vietnam, and a big part of building strength for the party is by a selective emphasis on history, the history of Vietnamese imprisoned by the French there is the overwhelming focus of the museum. Don't get me wrong, its an interesting thing to learn about, its just not what I was expecting. Of course, given that this is a communist party run museum, the word french is almost always followed by "colonizer," Japanese by "fascist," American by "imperialist," Vietnamese by "hero" and South Vietnamese by "puppet."
Only two rooms at the museum are dedicated to the U.S. pilots that were imprisoned there, and of course, the exhibits are whitewashed to present the Vietnamese as humane jailers. They emphasize how well the Americans were treated, and the exhibit is lined with photographs (probably staged) of the American pilots enjoying themselves. Of course, there is an obvious disconnect between their "truth" and "reality." If the Americans were treated so well, then why can't McCain raise his arms above his shoulders, and why did he try to commit suicide several times? To be honest, some of it just made my blood boil.
There are some hilarious mistranslations--for example they claimed that American protestors walked from Brooklyn to Auckland. Now, what they meant was probably "Oakland" as walking to Auckland is impossible--its the largest city in New Zealand. There are some interesting artifacts, though.
After checking in, went to Van Mieu or the palace of learning--the site of a university established in the 11th century, but, despite its age, has a layout that is remarkably similar to the stereotypical university quad--it has several courtyards built around a main pond, and is all together a very beautiful, and serene haven from chaotic Hanoi.
Just because I hadn't had my fill of Communist propaganda, I decided to go to the Vietnam Revolution Museum. The top half is dedicated to the struggle against the French, and nearly a quarter of top floor is limited solely to glorifying the victory at Dien Bien Phu, which kicked the French out (of course, some historians argue that the French were already out of Vietnam, and that Dien Bien Phu wasn't an attempt to reinforce the French position in Vietnam--it was an attempt to prevent the Vietnamese from attacking and invading the French colony/protectorate of Laos.)
Walked through the exhibit on the American portion--choice quotes: "the american imperialists invented the tonkin incident so that they could invade" (again, not true, but lets not let the facts get in the way of building up a national heroic narrative). Photos are blatantly doctored and touched up, and you can never take anything at face value in the museum. I used by American history knowledge to give a group of three irish guys a crash course in American-Vietnamese history, which they actually enjoyed, since they honestly had zero knowledge beforehand. Like usual, parts of the museum make my blood boil as they are blatantly false.
Get a rickshaw tour for about 2.5 hours. On the way, we pass the most beautiful building in Hanoi, the Opera house--a european style building that screams opera house--which of course Lonely Planet doesn't bother to mention. The guy takes me down some random tree-lined streets, and we pass arguably the second prettiest building in Hanoi, the Danish embassy.
He keeps mentioning about some B52 being downed, and he wants to take me to it. So, I decide, what the heck, and we start going down some random back alleyways, and I think that he's taking me elsewhere and will try to rob me. But no--after about 10 minutes of pedaling through some backstreets, we emerge into an acre-sized courtyard in the middle of this Hanoi neighborhood, with two ponds. One of which has the undercarriage of a b52 protruding from it.
Posing for photographs with the downed wreckage of a U.S. aircraft was easily one of the most awkward experiences of my life--I really can't smile, since its a good bet that one or more of my countrymen were likely killed--but at the same time, it is also bizarrely beautiful.
He then decides to take me to the lake where John McCain's plane crashed. Again, Lonely Planet screws up once more--McCain's plane crashed in Trin Brac (or something like that)--a lake about five minutes from the old quarter, and directly across the road from the massive West Lake, lined by a corniche. With the water, the boardwalk, and the hanging trees, it is easily the prettiest part of Hanoi, and the place is unmentioned by my guidebook. There is actually a brown, concrete statue/memorial site with an american pilot chained up, emphasizing the capturing of McCain by the people of Hanoi. Again, some of the most awkward photos of my life. What do you do in that situation? Smiling is awkward because you are smiling next to the depiction of a downed and tortured U.S. airman.
As we head back towards my hotel, I start to see the sky get dark--very dark--like the same color the clouds would get in Texas before a deluge starts. And did it ever rain. Welcome to the rainy/monsoon season, as it came down in buckets, with thunder and lightning to boot. I was getting soaked, but my rikshaw had a great alternative--we pulled over under a canopy, and he, using some big office paper clips, put together a jerry-rigged rain cover for the cabin--and it worked very well.
I get back to the hostel, which I am torn about--will explain later. I will try to do the nice thing and let other people use the computer instead of hogging it.
The building is a yellow painted, colonial structure, and, from the outside, doesn't look like a prison. There are some high walls, and some 2 story buildings built around courtyards, but it wouldn't look out of place as a government office building or the like. Given that the communist party is in power in Vietnam, and a big part of building strength for the party is by a selective emphasis on history, the history of Vietnamese imprisoned by the French there is the overwhelming focus of the museum. Don't get me wrong, its an interesting thing to learn about, its just not what I was expecting. Of course, given that this is a communist party run museum, the word french is almost always followed by "colonizer," Japanese by "fascist," American by "imperialist," Vietnamese by "hero" and South Vietnamese by "puppet."
Only two rooms at the museum are dedicated to the U.S. pilots that were imprisoned there, and of course, the exhibits are whitewashed to present the Vietnamese as humane jailers. They emphasize how well the Americans were treated, and the exhibit is lined with photographs (probably staged) of the American pilots enjoying themselves. Of course, there is an obvious disconnect between their "truth" and "reality." If the Americans were treated so well, then why can't McCain raise his arms above his shoulders, and why did he try to commit suicide several times? To be honest, some of it just made my blood boil.
There are some hilarious mistranslations--for example they claimed that American protestors walked from Brooklyn to Auckland. Now, what they meant was probably "Oakland" as walking to Auckland is impossible--its the largest city in New Zealand. There are some interesting artifacts, though.
After checking in, went to Van Mieu or the palace of learning--the site of a university established in the 11th century, but, despite its age, has a layout that is remarkably similar to the stereotypical university quad--it has several courtyards built around a main pond, and is all together a very beautiful, and serene haven from chaotic Hanoi.
Just because I hadn't had my fill of Communist propaganda, I decided to go to the Vietnam Revolution Museum. The top half is dedicated to the struggle against the French, and nearly a quarter of top floor is limited solely to glorifying the victory at Dien Bien Phu, which kicked the French out (of course, some historians argue that the French were already out of Vietnam, and that Dien Bien Phu wasn't an attempt to reinforce the French position in Vietnam--it was an attempt to prevent the Vietnamese from attacking and invading the French colony/protectorate of Laos.)
Walked through the exhibit on the American portion--choice quotes: "the american imperialists invented the tonkin incident so that they could invade" (again, not true, but lets not let the facts get in the way of building up a national heroic narrative). Photos are blatantly doctored and touched up, and you can never take anything at face value in the museum. I used by American history knowledge to give a group of three irish guys a crash course in American-Vietnamese history, which they actually enjoyed, since they honestly had zero knowledge beforehand. Like usual, parts of the museum make my blood boil as they are blatantly false.
Get a rickshaw tour for about 2.5 hours. On the way, we pass the most beautiful building in Hanoi, the Opera house--a european style building that screams opera house--which of course Lonely Planet doesn't bother to mention. The guy takes me down some random tree-lined streets, and we pass arguably the second prettiest building in Hanoi, the Danish embassy.
He keeps mentioning about some B52 being downed, and he wants to take me to it. So, I decide, what the heck, and we start going down some random back alleyways, and I think that he's taking me elsewhere and will try to rob me. But no--after about 10 minutes of pedaling through some backstreets, we emerge into an acre-sized courtyard in the middle of this Hanoi neighborhood, with two ponds. One of which has the undercarriage of a b52 protruding from it.
Posing for photographs with the downed wreckage of a U.S. aircraft was easily one of the most awkward experiences of my life--I really can't smile, since its a good bet that one or more of my countrymen were likely killed--but at the same time, it is also bizarrely beautiful.
He then decides to take me to the lake where John McCain's plane crashed. Again, Lonely Planet screws up once more--McCain's plane crashed in Trin Brac (or something like that)--a lake about five minutes from the old quarter, and directly across the road from the massive West Lake, lined by a corniche. With the water, the boardwalk, and the hanging trees, it is easily the prettiest part of Hanoi, and the place is unmentioned by my guidebook. There is actually a brown, concrete statue/memorial site with an american pilot chained up, emphasizing the capturing of McCain by the people of Hanoi. Again, some of the most awkward photos of my life. What do you do in that situation? Smiling is awkward because you are smiling next to the depiction of a downed and tortured U.S. airman.
As we head back towards my hotel, I start to see the sky get dark--very dark--like the same color the clouds would get in Texas before a deluge starts. And did it ever rain. Welcome to the rainy/monsoon season, as it came down in buckets, with thunder and lightning to boot. I was getting soaked, but my rikshaw had a great alternative--we pulled over under a canopy, and he, using some big office paper clips, put together a jerry-rigged rain cover for the cabin--and it worked very well.
I get back to the hostel, which I am torn about--will explain later. I will try to do the nice thing and let other people use the computer instead of hogging it.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Headaches in Hanoi
I've lived in two of the loudest cities on the planet--New York, and New Haven, where the city song should be the wail of an ambulance siren, as my mother can attest to. Neither compare to Hanoi. Hanoi is the first city that has actually given me a headache because of how incessant the honking and the beeping is.
Traffic is horrendous, and every time you cross the street, you are taking your life into your own hands--but you get the hang of it, and the "New York Staredown" works everytime.
Woke up pre-dawn yesterday to take a cab to the Bangkok airport. Here's a tip: if you want to avoid Bangkok traffic, travel at 430 in the morning. If not, then you are bound to run into a traffic jam (don't listen to the cab drivers who want extra because of "traffic jam"--there is always a traffic jam in Bangkok, its just worse at certain times--certain cab drivers literally refused to drive me to some places because of how bad the traffic was--considering they could have had me metered and run up a big bill, that's somewhat revealing). Took us only about 30 minutes to get to the airport (took us about an hour to get from the airport to the hotel in rush hour).
Little things can sometimes reveal a lot about the place you are in. In the Bangkok airport, all the duty free liquor stores had russian cyrillic writing in their windows.
Boarded next to a Druk Air flight (the Bhutanese airline--but got no pics, since the plane was parked elsewhere).
I had mixed feelings about going to Vietnam--after getting an email from my father in regards to my query regarding some Vietnam War sites, I realized just how significant the Vietnam War is to American history and culture, and will be for quite sometime. The experiences of parents always influence their children, and this case, for my generation, the major cultural/social experience was the Vietnam War and the social upheaval that it caused in the U.S. As such, my generation has been raised on memories of the war, and this means that the full effects of the war on American culture will only be revealed when generation y hits maturity and are the main decision makers.
Descending over Vietnamese airspace, you could see some of the mountains peaking over the clouds. The cloud cover over Hanoi was easily one of the lowest I've landed in--we literally didn't see the surrounding countryside until we were about two minute from landing--and there are only two words to describe the landscape--verdant and flat. I've never seen a place with so many different, subtle shades of green than the ricefields of Vietnam.
As a sign that times have most definitely changed, as we pulled up to the terminal, sitting on the tarmac was a U.S. Government 737, painted in the same livery as air force one.
Got an airport pickup from the hostel, since I really had no desire to screw with the cabs early in the morning, which ended up costing me an arm and a leg anyway (triple what I'm paying for the hostel, but I avoided quite a bit of hassle). Hanoi's airport is far away from the city--easily about a 75 minute drive--its about 33 clicks away.
On the drive in, though, something struck me. We may have lost the physical war in Vietnam, but, nearly 30 years after pulling out the last of our troops, our capitalist ideology has indeed prevailed--tons of billboards advocating all sorts of private companies line the airport highway. Yes, Vietnam may be run by the communist party, but like Laos and China, they are CINO's--communists in name only. Lenin (and probably Uncle Ho too) would be rolling over in his grave to see the amount of capitalism taking place on the streets of Hanoi.
I pride myself on my directional ability. Hanoi is all but impossible to get oriented. I figured out bangkok after a couple of hours. Hanoi is just a maze and warren of streets. It also isn't that "walkable" either, unfortunately, because of how far the main tourist sites are spread about, and the bad traffic.
General rule for traffic in SE Asia: the greater number of motorbikes, the more chaotic the city is. Motorbikes outnumber cars in Hanoi by about 10:1. And the traffic is easily the worst in SE Asia. Another thing to keep in mind: because of the various colonial legacies in SE Asia, all countries don't drive on the same side of the road. In Indochina (laos, cambodia, Vietnam) and in Indonesia, they all drive on the right. In Singapore, Thailand, Brunei, and Malaysia, they drive on the left. Since I have been popping in and out of these countries, it often takes me a day to get used to what direction traffic is moving.
Bangkok wrap up: driving in from the airport, saw the sight of the monsoon rains streaming of the side of a lit billboard--coming in waves.
In my afternoon in Bangkok, I went to the other red light districts to see what they were like--all of them, conveniently are easily accessible via skytrain and/or subway--they really don't feel that sleazy, but that's because I was there in the daytime. Revealingly, the bar girls working outside all but ignored me and flocked to the older european males. They know where the money is.
Rant warning: I view cemeteries as sacred, especially war cemeteries. I don't care how much you paid for your Thai escort, bringing your "new girlfriend" to a war cemetery, like people did in Kanchanaburi, is inexcusable. Have some respect, for gosh sakes.
I will post my full wrap up of Hanoi later, as I don't want to waste my day.
visited Hoa Lo prison, Van Mieu, the revolutionary museum, the site of a b52 undercarriage, and the lake where mccain's plane landed.
today: visiting ho chi minh mausoleum, and various other sites, and walking around the old quarter.
Traffic is horrendous, and every time you cross the street, you are taking your life into your own hands--but you get the hang of it, and the "New York Staredown" works everytime.
Woke up pre-dawn yesterday to take a cab to the Bangkok airport. Here's a tip: if you want to avoid Bangkok traffic, travel at 430 in the morning. If not, then you are bound to run into a traffic jam (don't listen to the cab drivers who want extra because of "traffic jam"--there is always a traffic jam in Bangkok, its just worse at certain times--certain cab drivers literally refused to drive me to some places because of how bad the traffic was--considering they could have had me metered and run up a big bill, that's somewhat revealing). Took us only about 30 minutes to get to the airport (took us about an hour to get from the airport to the hotel in rush hour).
Little things can sometimes reveal a lot about the place you are in. In the Bangkok airport, all the duty free liquor stores had russian cyrillic writing in their windows.
Boarded next to a Druk Air flight (the Bhutanese airline--but got no pics, since the plane was parked elsewhere).
I had mixed feelings about going to Vietnam--after getting an email from my father in regards to my query regarding some Vietnam War sites, I realized just how significant the Vietnam War is to American history and culture, and will be for quite sometime. The experiences of parents always influence their children, and this case, for my generation, the major cultural/social experience was the Vietnam War and the social upheaval that it caused in the U.S. As such, my generation has been raised on memories of the war, and this means that the full effects of the war on American culture will only be revealed when generation y hits maturity and are the main decision makers.
Descending over Vietnamese airspace, you could see some of the mountains peaking over the clouds. The cloud cover over Hanoi was easily one of the lowest I've landed in--we literally didn't see the surrounding countryside until we were about two minute from landing--and there are only two words to describe the landscape--verdant and flat. I've never seen a place with so many different, subtle shades of green than the ricefields of Vietnam.
As a sign that times have most definitely changed, as we pulled up to the terminal, sitting on the tarmac was a U.S. Government 737, painted in the same livery as air force one.
Got an airport pickup from the hostel, since I really had no desire to screw with the cabs early in the morning, which ended up costing me an arm and a leg anyway (triple what I'm paying for the hostel, but I avoided quite a bit of hassle). Hanoi's airport is far away from the city--easily about a 75 minute drive--its about 33 clicks away.
On the drive in, though, something struck me. We may have lost the physical war in Vietnam, but, nearly 30 years after pulling out the last of our troops, our capitalist ideology has indeed prevailed--tons of billboards advocating all sorts of private companies line the airport highway. Yes, Vietnam may be run by the communist party, but like Laos and China, they are CINO's--communists in name only. Lenin (and probably Uncle Ho too) would be rolling over in his grave to see the amount of capitalism taking place on the streets of Hanoi.
I pride myself on my directional ability. Hanoi is all but impossible to get oriented. I figured out bangkok after a couple of hours. Hanoi is just a maze and warren of streets. It also isn't that "walkable" either, unfortunately, because of how far the main tourist sites are spread about, and the bad traffic.
General rule for traffic in SE Asia: the greater number of motorbikes, the more chaotic the city is. Motorbikes outnumber cars in Hanoi by about 10:1. And the traffic is easily the worst in SE Asia. Another thing to keep in mind: because of the various colonial legacies in SE Asia, all countries don't drive on the same side of the road. In Indochina (laos, cambodia, Vietnam) and in Indonesia, they all drive on the right. In Singapore, Thailand, Brunei, and Malaysia, they drive on the left. Since I have been popping in and out of these countries, it often takes me a day to get used to what direction traffic is moving.
Bangkok wrap up: driving in from the airport, saw the sight of the monsoon rains streaming of the side of a lit billboard--coming in waves.
In my afternoon in Bangkok, I went to the other red light districts to see what they were like--all of them, conveniently are easily accessible via skytrain and/or subway--they really don't feel that sleazy, but that's because I was there in the daytime. Revealingly, the bar girls working outside all but ignored me and flocked to the older european males. They know where the money is.
Rant warning: I view cemeteries as sacred, especially war cemeteries. I don't care how much you paid for your Thai escort, bringing your "new girlfriend" to a war cemetery, like people did in Kanchanaburi, is inexcusable. Have some respect, for gosh sakes.
I will post my full wrap up of Hanoi later, as I don't want to waste my day.
visited Hoa Lo prison, Van Mieu, the revolutionary museum, the site of a b52 undercarriage, and the lake where mccain's plane landed.
today: visiting ho chi minh mausoleum, and various other sites, and walking around the old quarter.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Back to Bangkok
Leaving Kanchanaburi in about an hour to go back to Bangkok. I have a 645 am flight tmw morning to Hanoi.
Kanchanaburi was honestly a bit of a dud--I'm glad I came, the war cemetery is beautiful (stumbled upon the grave of a jewish dutch soldier), and the death railway center museum is well worth the visit if you happen to be passing through. The bridge is, after all, just a railroad bridge, and the original wooden one was destroyed by allied bombing, so the one that stands is stell--with parts made from Japan, oddly enough.
The town is filled with cheap go-go bars, which make it a bit sleazy, and while it could have been nice to relax in for a day or two, it would have probably been better just to a day trip from Bangkok.
Kanchanaburi was honestly a bit of a dud--I'm glad I came, the war cemetery is beautiful (stumbled upon the grave of a jewish dutch soldier), and the death railway center museum is well worth the visit if you happen to be passing through. The bridge is, after all, just a railroad bridge, and the original wooden one was destroyed by allied bombing, so the one that stands is stell--with parts made from Japan, oddly enough.
The town is filled with cheap go-go bars, which make it a bit sleazy, and while it could have been nice to relax in for a day or two, it would have probably been better just to a day trip from Bangkok.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Still in Bangkok
Was planning on going to Kanchanaburi tonight, but plans got scuttled when I wasn't able to get my bags from my hotel after getting my passport back until 4pm. Last bus to Kanchanaburi leaves between 5 and 6, and the bus station was an hour away--yes Bangkok is big, it sprawls, and it has horrible traffic. In other words, Thailand's city of angels is very similar to the U.S. city of Angels--although L.A. actually has a defined downtown area and somewhat of an identifiable skyline. Bangkok really doesn't have any "signature" buildings.
So, instead, I changed hotels, since the only reason why I was staying where I was staying was that it was near where I had to be--the cathay pacific office, and the vietnamese embassy.
I am officially back to travelling on my own, as AJ left early this morning to go to Bali. Unofficially, I've been back on my own since yesterday morning, the last time we saw each other.
The problem with Bangkok in terms of being a traveller is that the legendary/notorious Khao San Road, where alot of the budget guesthouses/hostels are is close to absolutely nothing. It's a 50 baht cab ride to the nearest skytrain/subway station (in theory, you could walk it, but when its hot as heck out, and you have to walk that far just to get the subway, and then have to walk even farther to go prancing about, then you might be a little bit crazy). The problem with the place I was staying at was that, while it was close to lots of things (just a 10 minute walk from a skytrain stop), it was pretty isolated socially, and there weren't any young people around (the bar girls and prostitutes working at nearby Nana Plaza do not count). So I stayed there as long as I had to before moving elsewhere.
Since I could only pickup my passport at 3pm, I spent the day just wandering around. I have already been to Bangkok once, six years ago, and seen all the major sights, so I just decided to walk down to a neighborhood park, Lumphini park, wander around, before taking the skytrain to the river and hopping on one of the Chao Praya express boats that easily double as river tours for cheap tourists like myself (think of the boats as much smaller versions of the staten island ferry, only you have to pay a little over 50 cents per ride--but that 50 cents covers the entire system--the boats ply a line of about 32 stations and piers on the Chao Praya, and one pier is right underneath a skytrain stop).
You know how there is an urban legend about alligators in the sewers of New York City? Well, Bangkok has actual giant lizards--in its public parks. I'm walking along one of the paved paths around the man made pond/lake in the middle of Lumphini (a nice oasis, btw) and I see this giant lizard sunbathing. Not just one, but a couple of them. Apparently, monitor lizards, some of them probably seven feet in length from head to tail, make their home in Lumphini park, and nobody seems to mind them. A group of elderly men playing some sort of traditional game saw me taking photos, and told me to come and join them--they were sitting no less than about five yards from a couple of the monitors, and it didn't seem to bother any of them.
Whereas earlier in the trip, I tried to at least be somewhat polite to the touts offering me rides and the like, now I'm just having fun with them. If someone asks me where I am going nowadays, and I don't need a ride, then I've started saying all sorts of things to them--like, I'm going to the moon, for example. Do you have a rocket ship? Most of them laugh when I say stuff like that, but I'm sure they are saying all sorts of nasty things about me in their native language to one another. To be honest, I don't really care. When some of them try to rip me off as badly as they do when I actually need a ride, then they really shouldn't complain about me playing games with them.
I'm pretty sure my cab driver from my old hotel to my new hotel is Thailand's version of a birther or a conspiracy theorist. He gave me a fair price to my hotel--actually, the only price I was willing to accept as his first offer, so I took it--and told me that he was from outside of Chiang Mai. As we start to head down Sukhumvit road, underneath the skytrain track, and where most of the protestors were camped out, we pass the Central World Mall, and I point it out. His response (his english was pretty good by foreign cab driver standards) and clearly says "government blew up that building." Excuse me? He then points out to me where all the protestors were camped out, a theater that he claimed that the government also blew up, and the site where several protestors were killed. He explains that the red shirts were entirely non-violent, and all were peaceful, and that it was the government and the army that was responsible for it.
I have asked a fair amount of people (or been outright told without having to ask) about the riots and what their opinion on it was. Nearly everyone that I have talked to (including some, like AJ, who were actually interviewing and in some of the camps themselves) have said that the red shirts were the ones to blame in this matter, and they were the ones, not the government, that were the violent ones. By all accounts, the government was actually relatively lenient in dealing with them. Could you imagine the U.S. government allowing a group of some 200,000 protestors to camp out for about a month in the middle of midtown manhattan, shutting down park avenue, madison avenue, and 5th avenue, forcing businesses to close and employees to avoid going to work, paralyzing the U.S. economy while attacking various storefronts and burning out entire buildings in the process? No. They would have been cleared out--either forcibly or unforcibly within a week, and probably within a matter of hours. The Thai government didn't try to forcibly clear them out until after about a month or so.
Yes, my taxi driver was a red shirt--and a proud one to boot (crashcourse in thai politics: Thaksin, the ousted prime minister from several years ago, is for the red shirts--Abhisit, the current prime minister, is a yellow shirt. It was a large yellow shirt protest in 2006 that managed to shut down the Bangkok airport that helped kick Thaksin out and put Abhisit in place). He said that Thaksin was a great prime minister, and he wasn't corrupt at all (factually incorrect--Thaksin and some of his aides have been convicted several times of corruption. To be fair, Thaksin is independently wealthy, a businessman in his own right, so plenty of his money is legit)--it is Abhisit and his cronies that are the corrupt ones.
I tried to probe a little further, and ask him why the government would destroy a shopping mall, and his reasoning was pretty suspect.
That said, he was a nice enough guy and a pretty good cab driver, so all was not lost, and I purposely tipped him (i had exact change, but i decided to purposely overpay and just told him to keep the change).
So, instead, I changed hotels, since the only reason why I was staying where I was staying was that it was near where I had to be--the cathay pacific office, and the vietnamese embassy.
I am officially back to travelling on my own, as AJ left early this morning to go to Bali. Unofficially, I've been back on my own since yesterday morning, the last time we saw each other.
The problem with Bangkok in terms of being a traveller is that the legendary/notorious Khao San Road, where alot of the budget guesthouses/hostels are is close to absolutely nothing. It's a 50 baht cab ride to the nearest skytrain/subway station (in theory, you could walk it, but when its hot as heck out, and you have to walk that far just to get the subway, and then have to walk even farther to go prancing about, then you might be a little bit crazy). The problem with the place I was staying at was that, while it was close to lots of things (just a 10 minute walk from a skytrain stop), it was pretty isolated socially, and there weren't any young people around (the bar girls and prostitutes working at nearby Nana Plaza do not count). So I stayed there as long as I had to before moving elsewhere.
Since I could only pickup my passport at 3pm, I spent the day just wandering around. I have already been to Bangkok once, six years ago, and seen all the major sights, so I just decided to walk down to a neighborhood park, Lumphini park, wander around, before taking the skytrain to the river and hopping on one of the Chao Praya express boats that easily double as river tours for cheap tourists like myself (think of the boats as much smaller versions of the staten island ferry, only you have to pay a little over 50 cents per ride--but that 50 cents covers the entire system--the boats ply a line of about 32 stations and piers on the Chao Praya, and one pier is right underneath a skytrain stop).
You know how there is an urban legend about alligators in the sewers of New York City? Well, Bangkok has actual giant lizards--in its public parks. I'm walking along one of the paved paths around the man made pond/lake in the middle of Lumphini (a nice oasis, btw) and I see this giant lizard sunbathing. Not just one, but a couple of them. Apparently, monitor lizards, some of them probably seven feet in length from head to tail, make their home in Lumphini park, and nobody seems to mind them. A group of elderly men playing some sort of traditional game saw me taking photos, and told me to come and join them--they were sitting no less than about five yards from a couple of the monitors, and it didn't seem to bother any of them.
Whereas earlier in the trip, I tried to at least be somewhat polite to the touts offering me rides and the like, now I'm just having fun with them. If someone asks me where I am going nowadays, and I don't need a ride, then I've started saying all sorts of things to them--like, I'm going to the moon, for example. Do you have a rocket ship? Most of them laugh when I say stuff like that, but I'm sure they are saying all sorts of nasty things about me in their native language to one another. To be honest, I don't really care. When some of them try to rip me off as badly as they do when I actually need a ride, then they really shouldn't complain about me playing games with them.
I'm pretty sure my cab driver from my old hotel to my new hotel is Thailand's version of a birther or a conspiracy theorist. He gave me a fair price to my hotel--actually, the only price I was willing to accept as his first offer, so I took it--and told me that he was from outside of Chiang Mai. As we start to head down Sukhumvit road, underneath the skytrain track, and where most of the protestors were camped out, we pass the Central World Mall, and I point it out. His response (his english was pretty good by foreign cab driver standards) and clearly says "government blew up that building." Excuse me? He then points out to me where all the protestors were camped out, a theater that he claimed that the government also blew up, and the site where several protestors were killed. He explains that the red shirts were entirely non-violent, and all were peaceful, and that it was the government and the army that was responsible for it.
I have asked a fair amount of people (or been outright told without having to ask) about the riots and what their opinion on it was. Nearly everyone that I have talked to (including some, like AJ, who were actually interviewing and in some of the camps themselves) have said that the red shirts were the ones to blame in this matter, and they were the ones, not the government, that were the violent ones. By all accounts, the government was actually relatively lenient in dealing with them. Could you imagine the U.S. government allowing a group of some 200,000 protestors to camp out for about a month in the middle of midtown manhattan, shutting down park avenue, madison avenue, and 5th avenue, forcing businesses to close and employees to avoid going to work, paralyzing the U.S. economy while attacking various storefronts and burning out entire buildings in the process? No. They would have been cleared out--either forcibly or unforcibly within a week, and probably within a matter of hours. The Thai government didn't try to forcibly clear them out until after about a month or so.
Yes, my taxi driver was a red shirt--and a proud one to boot (crashcourse in thai politics: Thaksin, the ousted prime minister from several years ago, is for the red shirts--Abhisit, the current prime minister, is a yellow shirt. It was a large yellow shirt protest in 2006 that managed to shut down the Bangkok airport that helped kick Thaksin out and put Abhisit in place). He said that Thaksin was a great prime minister, and he wasn't corrupt at all (factually incorrect--Thaksin and some of his aides have been convicted several times of corruption. To be fair, Thaksin is independently wealthy, a businessman in his own right, so plenty of his money is legit)--it is Abhisit and his cronies that are the corrupt ones.
I tried to probe a little further, and ask him why the government would destroy a shopping mall, and his reasoning was pretty suspect.
That said, he was a nice enough guy and a pretty good cab driver, so all was not lost, and I purposely tipped him (i had exact change, but i decided to purposely overpay and just told him to keep the change).
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Random observations in Bangkok
In our cab from the airport to the hotel, the seat pocket displaying various magazines contained a copy of American Eagle Airlines' inflight magazine. American doesn't fly to Bangkok, let alone its partner American Eagle.
"Charlie" is a very popular name for stores and restaurants in Bangkok--it is all over the place.
There is a Chabad house near Khao San Road--the main backpacker hotel/hostel zone.
Three out of my four female cousins have girly bars named after them. Sorry Hannah, I was unable to find one with your name on it. What's most bizarre, though, is that "Molly's" and "Annie's Famous Massage Parlor" are right next door to each other (yes, I have photographic proof of this). Are Ken and Becky really sure they were in Austin/Philadelphia when they claimed to be, and they weren't moonlighting as owners of Bangkok brothels?
Bangkok security guards are really nice--and even some of the taxi drivers too. When I asked for directions from some security guards, some of them took my hand and pointed the way to go, and all were very polite and formal.
How bad is the bangkok traffic? In rush hour, one cab driver refused to take me to where I wanted to be taken, because it would have taken an hour with traffic. When I mentioned a skytrain/subway stop (my hotel is about 150 yards away from a stop), he got on the phone with his supervisor, spent about five minutes on the phone with him, took me to the nearest subway station and told me which way I needed to go. Yes, I tipped the guy (i didn't ask for change and the change would have been 20% of the fare).
I went to a mall to find a pharmacy, and I was promptly offered a lollipop (in a sealed wrapper from a security guard). When I tok one, the guy gave me another one.
Maybe the only obvious thing that has changed about Bangkok is that there are now metal detectors in front of all malls, and you have to pass through them and show your bag to a security guard at the subway/skytrain.
Managed to make a nice 50 baht when I sold off my "decline and fall of the roman empire" book that I had read a grand total of 40 pages over the past six weeks. As a comparison, I've read 370 pages of a new book I bought in Laos within the past two days.
American embassy looks like a cliched colonial country club type establishment--beautiful setting--and the guards do not mind if you take pictures. Take that Laos!
Headed to Kanchanaburi (bridge over the river kwai) tmw after picking up my passport from the Vietnamese embassy and having my new flights figured out.
"Charlie" is a very popular name for stores and restaurants in Bangkok--it is all over the place.
There is a Chabad house near Khao San Road--the main backpacker hotel/hostel zone.
Three out of my four female cousins have girly bars named after them. Sorry Hannah, I was unable to find one with your name on it. What's most bizarre, though, is that "Molly's" and "Annie's Famous Massage Parlor" are right next door to each other (yes, I have photographic proof of this). Are Ken and Becky really sure they were in Austin/Philadelphia when they claimed to be, and they weren't moonlighting as owners of Bangkok brothels?
Bangkok security guards are really nice--and even some of the taxi drivers too. When I asked for directions from some security guards, some of them took my hand and pointed the way to go, and all were very polite and formal.
How bad is the bangkok traffic? In rush hour, one cab driver refused to take me to where I wanted to be taken, because it would have taken an hour with traffic. When I mentioned a skytrain/subway stop (my hotel is about 150 yards away from a stop), he got on the phone with his supervisor, spent about five minutes on the phone with him, took me to the nearest subway station and told me which way I needed to go. Yes, I tipped the guy (i didn't ask for change and the change would have been 20% of the fare).
I went to a mall to find a pharmacy, and I was promptly offered a lollipop (in a sealed wrapper from a security guard). When I tok one, the guy gave me another one.
Maybe the only obvious thing that has changed about Bangkok is that there are now metal detectors in front of all malls, and you have to pass through them and show your bag to a security guard at the subway/skytrain.
Managed to make a nice 50 baht when I sold off my "decline and fall of the roman empire" book that I had read a grand total of 40 pages over the past six weeks. As a comparison, I've read 370 pages of a new book I bought in Laos within the past two days.
American embassy looks like a cliched colonial country club type establishment--beautiful setting--and the guards do not mind if you take pictures. Take that Laos!
Headed to Kanchanaburi (bridge over the river kwai) tmw after picking up my passport from the Vietnamese embassy and having my new flights figured out.
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