ho chi mine

That's all he wrote

2013-02-07T10:20:00.002+07:00

Home Again

2011-08-12T23:54:00.005+07:00

A few days before I came home, a friend asked me what I will miss both about Saigon. I didn't have an answer. At all. So, like my entry on 10 things that get old in Saigon, I left the impression that I hate it. Which isn't really true--hating a place is not the same as being burnt out. So here's some reasons why you should come to live in Vietnam:

It's cheap. Even after the "foreigner tax," many people pay as little as $400 for rent and $1 for a damn good local meal. Things like clothing are very inflated for foreigners, but still relatively cheap. You don't really want to buy high end things like electronics, because they are more expensive than at home and you may buy a crappy knock-off.

There are tons of jobs. Sadly for me, the easiest job to find by far is teaching English. Some people like it, and it is pretty easy. People make from $15 to $20 an hour, so even on the low end they are able to save a lot of money. Or they can work very few hours and relax.

You will lose weight. Maybe Vietnamese food is very healthy--it's mostly low fat and low sodium, and fresh fish is more available than in the US. It's also very excellent. There is an awful lot of really gross stuff like dog meat, organs, turtle soup, but they are easy to avoid (unless you go with a Vietnamese crowd--they always order such things) but there if you want a little gastronomic adventure. Unfortunately, there isn't as much variety as in the US and restaurants from other countries aren't as good (with the exception of thai food), so like me, you may stop eating so much--even desserts, which are pretty but not very tasty. I didn't need to lose weight to start with, and now weigh only 110.5 pounds.

It is a great place to see an entirely different culture and make tons of social taboos in relative safety. The chances of being punched out or tackled are nil--if you do something wrong, people will generally smile or laugh. There aren't many muggings either--you should worry more about pickpockets and bag slashers.

It is a good hub for many vacation sites. Which is a mixed blessing, because it does cost some money to get out of the city but will be totally worth it.

Anyway, now that I'm home, I'm alternating between feeling like I'm in a totally foreign place and feeling like I never left. My first impressions: the diversity of people is a very new and wonderful thing (even white people are a startlingly new sight). I went into a bank and was helped by someone completely competent. There is so much junk food I had no idea where to start (a box of Entenmann's soft chocolate chip cookies). I'm often afraid of crossing the street. The air, even in Brooklyn, smells clean and sweet. People are always in the way, are a chore to walk around (something I noticed since Hong Kong).

Speaking of Hong Kong, don't fly United. The seats do not have their own screens, so you will be horribly bored for your unbelievably long flight. The food is totally inedible and of small portions (being inedible makes any portion small). I had to transfer at Chicago O'Hare, which is an awful airport. People were extremely rude and unhelpful. I had to pick up my checked luggage, which took forever, and recheck it and barely made my connection to NY. My bags were put on two other flights. I waited 20 minutes for the first, the second came so late I had to have it delivered.

3rd Time in Hoi An

2011-08-08T17:08:00.003+07:00

It must be the low season. The Hoi An specialty souvenirs weren't there this time around.

But who cares? We were staying at the Fusion Maia resort, closer to Da Nang, for some serious relaxation.

Resorts are state-of-the-art, with beautiful pristine pools and beach views, but all that is ruined because you have to share.

Problem solved--our own private pool!

Nice views of the beach. I couldn't tell you about the water because we were too busy swimming in our own salt and crab free pool.

Nothing like a huge moth after a massage.

After the Nam Hai, it's hard to be impressed by a buffet breakfast. It's still pretty good, especially with items you can order from a menu.

Like waffles with chocolate and cinnamon.

A few days before, Jenny did all the fun stuff with her company--eco-tours, bike riding, fishing, lots of BBQ's on the beach and luxury dinners. All I got was a bike to rent. It's a lovely countryside to cruise through, but extremely hot with no hope of shade anywhere. We're thinking maybe we're done with Hoi An now.

Adventures in a Corridor

2011-08-08T15:41:00.002+07:00

Trains should be the ultimate way to travel: inexpensive, eco-friendly, comfortable, with endless views of the countryside. So why aren't they?

A first-class cabin--it doesn't get any better. This was my prison for 15.5 hours. It has a loud air conditioner blasting freezing canned air mixed with cigarette smoke, durian, and whatever else is buzzing around your neighbor's cabin. It's ancient and never-been washed. The window is coated in filth, and anyway it's too small to comfortably look through. The beds aren't too bad, though the train itself constantly hurls bodies to and fro. And the cost was just barely cheaper than a plane ticket.

The views of rice paddies and shrimp farms were often strikingly beautiful, but hard to appreciate from across the hall.

All in all, a good test for claustrophobics and germiphobes.

Filthy as it was, this was my favorite part of the train. An open window does wonders. I wanted to stick out my head, tongue waggling like a dog's, the whole trip. Going home, the flight from Da Nang to Saigon was worth every dong.

From English to Vietnamese and back again

2011-07-28T14:53:00.002+07:00

Totally wrong subtitles, but A+++ for effort!

I just had to watch the whole movie again with fudged English subtitles, totally worth it. There is no Netflix in Vietnam or any legitimate way to get DVDs. You can buy rip-offs for fifty-cents, usually watchable at least once, or steal off the internet.

Ten things that get old in Vietnam:

2011-07-18T13:11:00.005+07:00

1. Teaching English. I can write paragraphs on the quality/ motivation of the students for every age, but the fact is I came here with very little training and have no passion for teaching English. It is very easy to get started in Vietnam, and with the low living costs one can save lots of money--even with a few tourist trips thrown in. But with the hassle of foreign management, undependability of weekly schedules, and the classes themselves--almost always with about 25 kids who don't want to be there, many people don't last for more than a year.

2. Nouc Mam (fish sauce). It's the ubiquitous condiment for everything and, yes, is made from fermented fish. Considering what it's made of, it could smell worse, but the taste must be slowly acquired. It didn't bother me much at first, then I got used to it, but over time I just got over it. I never add it to anything voluntarily, and it wipes the smile off my face when someone dumps it in for me.

3. Jackfruit. I used to like it. But the jackfruit we always have at home comes from mom and dad's country-home and maybe is a little over-ripe. It has a slightly stinky flavor that one picks up on over a few months, and now I gave up on it entirely. It's deceptively similar to it's cousin Durian, which few people without a genetic mutation can abide being within 30 yards of. I got used to durian stench as I passed fruit stalls every day on my way to work, and I can eat it, though the first bite is still a punch in the jaw. Anyway, it leaves bad breath for two days and completely ruins everything else in the fridge, so it's not a welcome home companion.

4. People getting their chopsticks into my dinner. Eating is a communal activity in Vietnam, which I very much enjoy, except that people often plop things onto my plate. It's a sign of respect or that you're too skinny and should eat more, but it's very much at odds with the American's right to choose. In the US, we carefully select everything we put on our plate, judging our food for many different qualities. People here take all that away from you--they can't have any idea of what you'd actually prefer, but they throw stuff on your plate anyway. I personally enjoy chicken that's a little burnt around the edges, but no one would think to offer me what they'd consider to be lesser chicken. Or, worse, I get too-rare meat or Rhambutans infested with insects. It makes me want to stop eating just to spite everyone.

5. The money thing. People here take very little bits of money very seriously. You must haggle, which also means you must know the price of everything--like you're always playing the Price is Right without the new car. As a foreigner, I'll always be ripped off. Even if I haggle well, the price will always stop at just over ridiculous. I always leave the shopkeeper grinning with bits of me between their teeth. Even the local eateries will give me a big-nose tax. But usually the difference is 20,000 VND at most, or $1. So most of you will say "who the hell cares." Unless you live with a Vietnamese family, who will loose sleep over a stray 5,000 VND. If I see something I want, I'm not allowed to buy it unless we haggle for less than the usual (usual for Vietnam is pretty damn low) price. Imagine if you can, fellow Americans, wanting something, affording it, and not buying it.

6. Things are so damned hard to find. My constant fantasy is walking into a Rite Aid and having toothpaste, loofahs, toys, stationary, chocolate, ice-cream, cookies, canned soup, detergent, all sorts of medicine, band-aids, soda and shaving cream at my fingertips. Here, every little thing is a chore to hunt down, and I have the added misfortune of having to find the lowest prices. The malls here are totally useless--full of the most expensive brand name outlets with prices higher than in the US. It took me months to find a simple pack of playing cards, and it was in some nameless street stall. Now ask me about tea-strainers, screws and nails, model airplanes and envelopes and I'll give you a nice long unfocused stare.

7. The inevitability of a traffic accident. Driving on these crazy streets has been fun, but my luck is running out. There is a large degree of uncertainty about what makes an accident, and I've had lots of handlebar-clipping lately, and one guy turning into me burned a patch off my leg with his muffler, but there's always the Big One that comes to everyone here eventually. People who say Asians make the worst drivers should come here at the source. Here, a good driver is a dead driver. Politeness means hesitation means death. If you think you have the right of way, you're dead. There are always people making left turns into traffic, u turns, going down the wrong way on a one-way street, coming head-on into traffic and you have to flow around it or herd for protection at all times. You'll have to make your own dumb-ass moves yourself often enough. And one thing that really annoys us back home--people never look when they turn onto a street. It's mind-boggling--I mean, it's not like there's something else to look at--maybe they black out for a second. Despite all this, there aren't nearly as many accidents and fatalities and even shouting and cursing (unlike in Ha Noi, where you can get a proper NY style chew-out) than there should be with this kind of traffic. But tell that to my hairless leg.

8. The city itself. It's just too damn big, and every block is the same pointless self-serving village-style assemblage of hovels and street markets. Getting to see any greenery is a real chore--the parks here are few and pathetic. So you have to spend a lot of money on plane or coach tickets to go all the way to Mui Ne or Da Lat. For delights like Ho Coc and Binh Chau (still haven't made it back there yet) you need an expensive private van, which could be worth it if you find a group. The local buses are very cheap, but packed and uncomfortable and totally impossible for a foreigner to figure out. There are trains, but they can be as expensive as planes and the rides are very, very long. Riding a motorbike on the highway can be suicidal.

9. The unkind treatment of animals. The dog-eating thing doesn't really bother me, as I'm not crazy about them and anyway they are easy to avoid. Cats are lower than rats here, for the ridiculous reason that Meo sounds like the Vietnamese word for poor, Nheo. It's the way they treat birds that really makes me want to kill someone. Bird hunters are extremely successful, so much that birds that are extremely common in asia like the Red-Whiskered Bulbul are now totally absent here ( I saw only one flock of them in the abandoned District 2, though every other shop has one in a cage). They are kept in tiny cages, poorly cared for and often subjected to raw sunlight, cigarette smoke and traffic noise, not as pets but as good luck charms. The rich are absolutely required to have a small flock of captured hawks to promote the success for their businesses, which is pretty stupid as a caged Black-Shouldered Kite is one unlucky animal. I've seen cages absolutely crammed with swallows, possibly for people pay to release them around temples (and then for the starved, cramped bird to be recaptured). I've seen birds I've been dying to see in the wild, like Rufous Treepies among others, stuck in a sort of traveling aviary on the back of a motorcycle. And the last straw is seeing a motorcycle laden with cages packed solid with Golden Weavers, extremely beautiful birds that are disappearing in the countryside, and all the bird books can't figure out why.

I'll have to wait for number 10--unfortunately I'm writing this article at SOZO cafe watching the white, tattooed freaks get chased by walking sunglass huts, where my money is going to help disadvantaged people and my chocolate muffin and soursop and ice-cream smoothie is going to my stomach. Not the atmosphere to complain in, really.

Fancy Shmancy

2011-07-08T13:09:00.002+07:00

A great splurge at Xu's Restaurant. Jenny had a 500,000d voucher and we paid almost 400,000d on top of that ($45 in total)--very pricey for Vietnamese food. As in most fancy restaurants, the portions were tiny, so after several courses we were still hungry. However, they were all exquisite pieces of art constucted by Iron Chef wannabees.

The desserts were very reasonably priced but thimble sized. A smurf's durian (yup, got used to it) tiramisu, brownie with ice-cream, pandan (yuck) creme brulee, and granola-yogurt shot lets you experience the taste but not the satisfaction of a great big sloshing tummy. So we went home and had tea and cookies. And bread and butter. And maybe a steak and potatoes.

At the Hotpot Bar

2011-06-21T12:30:00.003+07:00

A massive lunch at Kichi Kichi. It's like a Jetson's hotpot bar. You snag all kinds of crazy crap from a conveyor belt and chuck it into a hole in the table with boiling soup.

Jenny had a blitz-krieg/ lego tactic of piling up towers of dishes, and then I realize that (holy crap) we have to eat everything or pay a fine.

All-in-all, lots of fun. I'm not entirely sure how they can keep all that meat and fish fresh, but hopefully the boiling water kills most of the germs. One note for us timid foreigners, careful of the eggs--there's a chickie inside.

The Other Chicken

2011-06-17T14:06:00.002+07:00

I tentatively nibbled Frog in Singapore, but never thought of getting full on the alien meat. The second time I had to admit: frog is good. Especially when your wife gets free vouchers for the restaurant.
The decor is in extremely bad taste (if you have a conscience about eating frog, that is). We ate like cannibals under a picture from my favorite children's story, Frog and Toad.

We started with batter-fried mushrooms (those delicate ones with very long stems) that were ridiculously scrumptious. The fried frog was good as usual, but spoiled by an egg sauce like watery apple juice and stinking of sulphur--not a good choice.

Curry frog. Very palatable, down to the bread-dipping. Frogs need to be fried to truly sing, figuratively speaking, and frog that's fried and then covered in curry is much better.

That Ol' Timey Opera

2011-06-14T15:54:00.002+07:00

Our farewell party at Nam Cat Tien. Some ol' 9 fingered drifter stopped by our table to recite some Vietnamese folk-opera.

1000 Birds!

2011-06-06T16:47:00.006+07:00

My friend Bao who took me in on his tour in Da Lat offered me a ride to Cat Tien. How could I say no?

Jenny booked me a cheap bungalow. The accommodations were infinitely better than last time. I had my own bathroom, which didn't drain and was a little gross. At least I didn't have to share the toilet with dog-sized spiders.

The room came with its own giant gecko. Thankfully this one was pretty quiet--they often like to wait until you are asleep and then, with expert ventriloquism, scream "Gecko!" into your ear. They're so beautiful in real life--hard to imagine someone wanting to stuff them into a jar to make alcohol.

Some amazing local birds I'd been dying to see were in my own backyard. This Black and Red Broadbill looks like a muppet, with a stuck-on bill enameled in sky blue and yellow. I also had many woodpeckers, Racket-Tailed Drongos, treepies and Velvet-Fronted Nuthatches.

Bao was here to train the young staff at Cat Tien as bird guides. They showed great promise.

A little lecture on birding history and some morphology.

Taking a break by the riparian habitat outside the Forest Floor Lodge, where we had easy views of Golden-Fronted Leafbirds.

As always, the food at Cat Tien was phenomenal. The menu is pretty small, but the chicken and fish are extremely fresh and well seasoned. Here we tuck into some local banh canh.

In the middle of nowhere, we took shelter in an abandoned hut from a violent thunderstorm. Vietnamese don't share the petty fears of Westerners--while I was thinking of lightning rods and the movie 2012, everyone else calmly sat for a smoke and munched on some sour wild fruit I'd never seen before.

The hut had some neat grafitti. We obviously weren't the first to take cover here.

Well, this is the rainy season. After two days with long, drenching downpours, there were a lot of downed trees to be cleared. The roads were slow-going.

None-the-less, we got amazing views of very sought-after birds from our truck, like Green Peafowl, Junglefowl (the deadly wild chicken), and this Siamese Fireback.

A bird that's very commonly heard but often impossible to see: the Blue-Winged Pitta.

We saw 74 species that trip, not bad for the off-season. After updating my lists, I found that I'd reached exactly 1000 species of birds, which is a strange number to stumble upon.

Water Puppets

2011-05-09T15:03:00.002+07:00

Well, we were bored. So why not go to a water puppet show?

The first time I saw this was 2.5 years ago in Hanoi. This was exactly the same show in every detail. The stage, for no apparent reason, is a tub of very dirty-looking water. The puppets are beautiful lacquered machines--they don't exactly compete with today's 3-D entertainment, but they must have been cutting-edge tech in their time. The show is introduced by a simple boy puppet chatting with the musicians in Vietnamese--not very reassuring to the foreigner. But the following scenes are generally written to show off a puppet that can swim or dance or squirt water.

Belly Blues

2011-05-09T14:10:00.002+07:00

Sometimes you just have to spend $35 on dinner. We came to the Intercontinental Hotel for some painful money extraction. The question "was it worth it?" keeps popping up. A quick look at the spread makes it seem like it is.

My first plate held more food than I've seen in months--mashed potatoes, always a nostalgic treat; some salmon, rare in Vietnam; a really tasty pork rib; a tekamaki for sushi lightweights; what unfortunately turned out to be lamb, never easy on my stomach.

There's so much amazing crab in Vietnam. Don't know how long the ecology will last, but it is nice to not be in the same room as fake crab-sticks. Unfortunately the guts were really sour and spoiled the lump meat, but that's a pretty meaty claw.

Little spiny lobsters. A couple of these really makes the price worth-while.

The desserts really stole the show.

This was amazing, like something out of Willy Wonka. Very hard not to just stick my face into a never-ending chocolate fountain.

The selection was mind-boggling. Every morsel was a piece of art yet tasted spectacular. I tried to have one of everything. I rolled out of there like a stuffed goose and spent the next day bent over in agony, crouched forehead-against-floor. Worth it? Hard to tell.

Tomb Raider

2011-04-20T16:21:00.023+07:00

Cambodia has temples like New York has mailboxes. They are pretty hard to keep track of, especially since the Khmer keep switching between Hinduism and Buddhism. Angkor Wat is the most famous and well built temple, so it is used as a sort of focal point. I don't even remember the name of this temple (feel free to google it), so I call it Tomb Raider like most tourists because it was a setting for the movie. It's pre Angkorian and pretty small, but has huge character thanks to the fig trees growing around it, sometimes pulling it apart and sometimes holding it together. Like other Buddhist temples, it was defaced by a late king who converted Cambodia back to Hinduism. He only ruled for 5 years, but long enough to carve out every Buddha on every temple and put a third eye of Shiva (not even a very pretty eye) on the large faces. The temple walls had plates like a Stegasaurus all along the top, thousands and thousands of them, with a little seated Buddha, now all gone. Still, I feel that only adds to the history of the place, and this is one of my favorite temples.

You can see the third eye carved in this temple entrance.

Ankgor Thom

2011-04-20T16:21:00.022+07:00

Angkor Thom is often thought of as #2 to Angkor Wat for some reason. It came later and was built just next door but is actually an entire city with many religious sites. The king at the time was Buddhist, but was very religiously tolerant and left the Hindu Angkor Wat alone. Angkor Thom also has both Buddhist and Hindu religious themes. One of the best Hindu stories is depicted in the entrances and a relief--The Churning of the Sea of Milk, not shown here because--well, I'd been here before. Anyway, the king's tolerance was repaid by the afore-mentioned later Hindu king who went and defaced Buddhist icons all over the temples. Still, it's just enormous, and impossible to take in every site in one day, as I tried on two occasions. And you can ride an elephant through it, which is uncomfortable but pretty neat.

The locals call him "The Leper King," but actually his arms were seared during a battle with a huge venom-spitting cobra.

Don't know what this is, but we climbed the hell out of it.

The Elephant Pomade, or something.

A Garuda, one of my favorites.

Bayon temple is my favorite, though I'd be hard pressed to compare them all. It's well known as the one with many huge faces in 4 directions.
There's a lot of detail. You have to stop for a while until you can pick out the huge faces.

Most of the reliefs around Bayon temple are of Khmer, allied with the Chinese, against Cham invaders. The Cham invaded quite a lot, and at one point they took over for 4 years. Now, the Cham are reduced to small villages scattered around Cambodia and their old capital in central Vietnam, and for some reason converted to Islam.

This guy, with many umbrella carriers, is probably the king who built Angkor Thom.

Apsaras, virgin Cambodian dancers. A common theme in the temples and a common brand for anything Cambodian.

Khmer Budgies

Another good thing about having a guide is he will tell you all the usual places for great photos, like when two faces in profile are framed in a window.

This face is said to be the most beautiful because she's smiling the widest.

Ankgor Wat

2011-04-20T16:17:00.009+07:00

Well, here we are. Definitely far from home. Angkor Wat is THE temple in Cambodia, the most well made and most famous. It is a Hindu temple, but many gods crossover into Buddhism and are still worshipped today. Here's Vishnu, much restored and in modern garb--one of the first things most people see past the moat.

A rare photo at a usually hectic entrance

The temple and a reservoir still used today.

One of many great things about Angkor Wat is the huge reliefs telling the epic battle in the Ramayana of demons vs. monkeys. The monkeys are obviously winning. I had to enhance the photos like crazy to see the reliefs, the rock is very flat. Here's my favorite, Garuda taking out 4 horsed riders at once and Hanuman beating up two lions.

Another wall of reliefs, new to me, showed various levels of heaven and hell. This guy had it the worst, only an adulterer. He's literally getting nailed.

Vacation Within a Vacation (part 2)

2011-04-20T15:24:00.019+07:00

Where else does an expat in Vietnam go on vacation? Cambodia, of course.

It's about a 6 hour bus ride to Phnom Penh, but it went by fast. The seats were relatively comfy, and we were entertained by a muted Jackie Chan movie with Vietnamese subtitles.

Despite its reputation, I liked Phnom Penh. I could sense its undercurrent of socio-economic problems, but it wasn't Saigon! I was ultra-cautious when we got off the bus, but the tuk-tuk driver who'd been soliciting the spot between my unfocused eyes for 10 minutes was actually a really nice guy. We hired him for the whole day: to our hotel, from our hotel to the palace, from the palace to the russian market, then to the night market and back to our hotel for only slightly higher than the local price, $12 in total.

Or hotel was near an interesting park (actually a huge traffic circle) with elephant rides and troops of wild monkeys.

The palace was very nice. It's still the residence of the King, though now he's tucked away in a minor building. We skipped the Killing Fields for another lifetime.

Shopping in Cambodia is an ordeal for me, but a true feast for a haggle-monster like Jenny. I played the reluctant keeper of the purse while Jenny would slash prices to under 1/3 of the outrageous starting price. Very often I was racked with Jenny pulling on one arm and the shopkeeper pulling on my other arm.

We had dinner at a fairly expensive Western restaurant, but had a nice sample dish of Khmer desserts. They're pretty similar to Vietnamese rau cau (fermented jello from algae), sweet soup and bean cake.

The road from Phnom Penh to Seam Reap was over 5 hours but seemed much, much longer. The minivan was not nearly as comfortable as the bus, and our fat, drunk neighbor who was constantly laughing and snorting into his cellphone put us in something under "coach." Though I probably shouldn't complain, the local buses were crammed with tons of crap and about 20 passengers hanging on the outside as an afterthought. Many, many times I'd prepared for death as a bus came barreling down the wrong lane towards us, or vice-versa. Sometimes we had to stop for cows or, outside a pagoda, people collecting money while a very, very unfortunate guy in a huge costume dances in the hot sun. We were very smart to fly back to Saigon.

Our resort in Seam Reap was over-the-top sumptuous. As always when we're traveling, we both had bad colds and didn't get to enjoy the accomodations much. But, we still had a splendid time.

Jenny playing the hit-a-mo-bobs.

Seam Reap town is a crazy, crowded tourist trap. After wandering in circles, we got desperate and dined in our usual dessert cafe.

Amazingly, the food was outstanding. We had a Khmer sample set, with Amok, curry and spring rolls. Khmer food is amazing, but it seems to be extremely limited.

These things are everywhere, but the Alien and Predator sculptures made this one special. You put your feet in a tank and let tiny fish extract your dead skin. It's actually an old practice for people with eczema, banned in the US for (probably unfounded) sanitation purposes. It's hardly a massage.

Of course, you go to Seam Reap for the temples. We saw the big 3: Tomb Raider, Ankgor Wat and Ankgor Thom, though there are many others. You must purchase a pass to enter the temples and there is so much information that you don't want to miss a guide.

Just next door to the King's getaway palace is a very plain little park, except that it has an enormous roost of flying foxes. Very neat to see and no one seems to know about it!

The bees keep curiously naked racks of combs.

Shopping in the Old Market was actually less crowded than the Russian Market in Phnom Penh, but stinkier and more expensive. The goods are quite ubiquitous--even the paintings in each stall are totally identical.

Tuk Tuks are the only way to get around. When you don't need them, you have at least five tuk tuk drivers soliciting you. And if not today, then for tomorrow or the next day. If you take one into town, the driver will ask to pick you up when you're done. It seemed strange to me that they're willing to wait for hours, but then there are just to many damn tuk tuks. They spend their days asking every passing tourist twice for a ride and they're very lucky to get one trip. That's just one indication of how bad the economy is here for locals.

Our souvenir spoils. This is--oh, one of those useless kitchen things, but handmade from silk and sequins. After haggling, $2!

We got many, many refrigerator magnets, $2 for 3 after haggling.
This is touristy, I know, but we wanted something from the wall that said "Seam Reap," and Bayon temple was my favorite. Only $6. Jenny had a blast with all the haggling, but I thought the whole thing was pretty sad. There are so many shops selling the same things, shopkeepers are quite desperate when dealing with customers. They didn't make much profit with us. I guess one solution, though unsustainable, is to be really really rich and buy everything at the asking price. And tip everywhere. Our guide confided that hotels do not give their VAT tax and service charges to the staff and some people are lucky to get $50 a month. Apsara dancing is a dying art since the tourist industry is unwilling to pay for it, and that was one of my favorite things. So, I love Cambodia, but it makes me sad.

Vacation Within a Vacation (part 1)

2011-04-20T13:25:00.008+07:00

So I'm living in a prolonged vacation in Vietnam. Where do I go for vacation?

Thailand.

Right off the plane, the weary expat is thrust into temptation. I hadn't been exposed to old animal fat, oversized pretzels and congealed dough for over a year. But, not being into that sort of thing anyway, we pushed on to Phuket.

Phuket can be appreciated before you even land. It is a karst landscape, not unlike Ha Long Bay but way more spoiled, with tiny islands and inviting crescents of tiny beaches.

7-elevens dominate the market infrastructure. Outside of the US they are vital resources--not just for trusted gooey snacks but also for phone cards, information, drug and hygiene supplies. Elsewhere we are left to haggle, and Phuket is not generous with tourists.

Phuket is a fairly large island topped by "The Big Buddha." It's a Buddha and it's very big. Anyhoo...

We were extremely fortunate to stay at Mom Tri's Boathouse. It has an excellent restaurant and is in a busy part of town, yet faces its own beach.

Thai food is better in Thailand. Thankfully, it is possible to avoid too much spice. Here we gorge on perfect Tom Yum soup and an incredible pepper-fried soft-shelled crab, served by one of many lady-boys.

Our trip was dominated by a day-long island-hopping tour on a fairly frightening and loud speedboat. The scenery is spectacular and the snorkeling is pretty decent. But it took sometimes around an hour between islands, and once we get there there's not much to do and no escape from the pummeling sunshine. We can take pictures of pet iguanas for a fee--even sitting under an umbrella will incur a charge. Shortly after this picture I got the camera wet, which really put a drain on the trip. Not shown is the beach famous for the movie "The Beach," which was nice but overcrowded, totally without shade and the mountains were reverberating with engine roar.

As a mixed blessing, our room was upgraded to a sumptuous and huge villa with private swimming pool. The day tour gave us no time to enjoy it, and the next morning we were off to Bangkok.

After Phuket, Bangkok was a shopper's paradise. A hot that cost us $8 in Phuket (the same as a day's motorbike rental) cost only $2.50 in Bangkok, and shirts cost from $1 to $3 dollars. A new camera cost about the same as in the US, which would cost more in Vietnam.

Our view from the new and ultra-modern Novotel. Bangkok is a huge, not-so-attractive sprawl with glassy skyscrapers shadowing rows of slums. The train system was extremely appreciated. Walking is not easy along traffic-dominated streets, but you can easily walk under the raised trail platform.

The King is everywhere, but he's always caught in the middle of a candid pose.

Shrines are also everywhere, sometimes surrounded with a mini-carnaval for tourists. There are cages crammed with munias that you can release for a donation, a sight that makes me think very non-buddhist thoughts about the captor.

The street food is interesting, but we didn't try any. This street smelled like a pig toilet, so we weren't very hungry.

Green spaces are hard to find, but I made a journey to a decent sized park (actually an overgrown golf course). After the commute, I had about 40 minutes of birdwatching--not ideal for any trip, but I got a few new common birds. I'd read about these contraptions in the inflight magazine. They are little waterwheels that oxygenate the water, but the magazine used the word "King" in every sentence, even credited him for designing the prototype.

Time for dipping our toe in an extremely modern pool on the 9th floor, then we're rushed back home. It was a time when we really, really needed to relax. We didn't get to to that at all--not a well planned trip. Oh well, we'll have to go back.

Tet leftovers

2011-02-11T09:37:00.004+07:00

Tet is a very non-western holiday--Imagine Christmas with all the family and food but no presents. For Saigon, it's a major exodus as everyone hops on a bike for a long trip to their hometown in the country. All the English teachers take exotic trips to Thailand, Bali, India or wherever. We had the whole city to ourselves.

Tet is about yellow flowers and red tassles. While commercialism is limited for this holiday, people do often go all-out for decorations.

Lion dances are everywhere. One moment the streets are deserted, then the drums start and people grow out of the concrete. Here a lion pays tribute to our corner coffee shop, even though it's closed like everywhere else.

Love brings all sorts of folks together. My new relatives are a beautiful, exotic people who look like they'd be comfortable riding Bactrian camels. It is touching at times how they absorb me into the mix. Other times I have to endure the odd Vietnamese sense of humor. I just have to remember that they make fun of me because they love me--it's really true! Here, Dad and Uncle (likes me to call him "old man") are in the serious business of extracting tiny sunflower nutmeats.

A big Vietnamese past-time is gambling. The one game is blackjack, and it's an unusual variety that is very, very open to swindlers. For one thing, when they cut the cards they just put the top half back on top.

Karaoke is also serious business. There always must be someone in the chair, like a sentry guarding against...I don't know, peace and quiet. Dad is always the man for the job.

Ah, lucky money.

I did say this is a non-commercial holiday. So instead of presents, kids (unmarried adults are "kids" too) get cash in colorful red envelopes. They practically salivate for it. But to get it, they have to beg. Even me, in Vietnamese. Which means I stand around for an awkward five minutes until someone tells me what to say. I'd pay not to be in line.

Well, of course there's food. The main dish here is home-made springrolls. They look absolutely scrumptious. Unfortunately I didn't have a single one.

Because we had to crash another party. We had a communally shared jug of brandy from the highlands. Pretty pleasant, not that I swallowed.

A new tet ritual we invented. We did get out to Jenny's Aunt's in Bien Hoa. The highway was much less crowded/ dangerous during tet, but the amusement parks were full. So we had some refreshments and, after some hilariously bad planning, didn't go to Ho Coc, Binh Chau, or Vung Tao but had dinner at the country home and then back to saigon.

Tet 2011

2011-02-03T15:14:00.006+07:00

Yay, Tet! Quite an ordeal. More crowded than Times Square, with a few sculptures and flowers that everyone crams in front of for pictures. We took a few and got the hell out.

Back on our roof, we had a good view of the fireworks.

Everyone else packs onto the bridges to see the fireworks. Here they are disentangling and going home.

Social Engagement Survival

2011-02-03T14:49:00.002+07:00

After 11 months of being left-out due to my language handicap, I picked up a few tricks:

Here's the world's smallest horse.

A tea-leaf Aunt Jemima.

Tet at Tao Dan Park

2011-02-03T14:35:00.011+07:00

I like to start off the New Year with a little bird watching. Not a chance today--Tao Dan Park was totally transformed. For a start, I had to pay 20,000d to get in--but it was so packed full of stuff it was worth it.

One attraction was a butterfly house. In usual Vietnamese style, it was a piece of crap with no regard for the animals. With hardly any flowers or habitat, the butterflies all crowded against the mesh, many dead and mutilated by human hands.

Still, some of them were very cool to see, like the huge cecropia-types and a luna moth. There was a beautiful dead one I've seen in collections.

Soon, a very lucky bird broke in to wreak some havoc.

I'll stop typing for a while. Here's some orchids.

And some very convincing clay flowers:

Bonsai trees were less popular but really neat, especially the bonsai fruit trees.

There was also a neat impromptu aquarium:

The fish are most likely for sale. They included some very odd goldfish, a spotted ray, some kind of crocodile-looking fish, arowanas, sea turtles (which are supposed to be protected, but here you never know) and schools of neon tetras.

Lots of kids performing for a handful of parents:

Here's a photo of Richard Gear trying to have some banh xeo in peace:

A brand new dragon topiary. Don't look behind you!

The incredible, edible dragons:

And for the kids, a small portable amusement park.

This ride is a disaster waiting to happen.

What kid wouldn't want to jump into a giant robot and blow stuff up?

Hopefully not a portent--after only an hour in the park the cat's tail popped off. Time to go and light lots of incense and drink chicken blood.

Can Gio or Can't Ya?

2011-01-25T15:31:00.015+07:00

Can Gio (to pronounce it you have to say "yuh" like a retarded Looney-Tunes villain), the closest patch of green space to Ho Chi Minh city, is still pretty far away. Still, I risked taking my electric bike. Big mistake. The one road I needed to get there was one-way, so there are more turns than I was prepared for. I got lost for about a half-hour, and after less than two hours I ran out of juice and had to pedal the entire way home.

But I had a few more days off, so I swiped Jenny's motorbike for another go at it. The journey was made more adventurous by Jenny's mom imploring me not to go for fear of bandits. But, the 1.5 hour drive to the ferry was pretty uneventful.

Here we are herded like cattle while we wait for the ferry.

The ferries are pretty big hulks, taking on trucks and city buses as well as cramming as many motorbikes as possible.

After only a 5-10 minute journey we approach the hovels of Can Gio.

It is quite a beautiful drive, though on a gravel road. I can't say I'd want to live in one of these makeshift huts, but it would be nice to camp out here for a while.

After a couple of bridges the scenery changes dramatically to a huge mangrove forest. It's just what the city needs--mangroves purify the air and water. They also trap sediment, eventually creating islets where other trees and plants grow. They serve as natural erosion and typhoon barriers. The waterways shelter countless fish and attract lots of birdlife--at least I hoped.

There were lots of black-capped kingfishers, birds that do not venture into the city.

Bird watching has many occupational hazards, steamrollers were a new one for me. There was one rambling steamroller every 50 meters, so every time I stopped to look at a shrike or kingfisher I had to park between them. Maybe the roads are unpaved so they can provide jobs--might as well let them lounge in a steamroller than a hammock, or whatever the proverb is.

"Life on your own" sounds nice, coming from the city. But the resorts are so far removed I never saw them, just the murderous coaches plowing through the tiny village streets.

As I feared from checking out the map, there are no trails through the mangroves or anywhere to pull off the road. There were thousands of little blue crabs with red fiddle arms and mudskippers waving their fins at each-other, but there were no birds by the roads, possibly because of all the noisy steamrollers. I passed by this, but there isn't much English on the signs to tell if it is visitor-friendly. Anyway, it was national siesta time and no one was home.

With perfect timing, I pulled into the village of Can Gio with a flat. Had to wheel my bike around until I found a sua xe who was awake enough to do 15 minutes worth of work. Fortunately, two patches only cost 15,000 dong.

Tourist trap, government building or spaceship?

The village is very quaint, with rice paddies, schools with kids on bikes pouring out of them and not much in between.

The "beach" is very hard to find. I squeezed through a driveway to get it but there was no place to park. Anyway it's more like a mud-flat, and with only a few Kentish Plovers stuffing themselves on the plentiful invertebrates I pushed on. In fact, I never left the motorbike. There were no shops worth looking at, no restaurants apart from the usual local plastic stool joints--just a market with a few items on the floor.

So, I went all the way back to the ferry. I was planning on going to Monkey Island to break the tedium but missed it on the way back. Probably a good thing--I was informed later that it is a place where you go to be watched and abused by the animals. Yes, see you again Can Gio, though I'd better bring someone who either knows what they're doing or can egg me on.

Hanoi Eats

2011-01-11T15:50:00.005+07:00

Hanoi food is very special. Especially bland. Fortunately, there are a range of food options, even Mexican food.

Nothing beats the cold (50 degrees is cold for us Saigonese) like a good cinnamon hot chocolate.

A wonderful and adventurous home cooked meal of crocodile and ostrich. The crocodile tastes like toasted chicken skin and ostrich is just like beef.

Groan, another Vietnamese hotpot. I hate it--you wait 3o minutes for them to set up the pot and bring raw meat. Then you have to cook the meat for another 30 minutes, and the end product is like instant soup with gristly meat. We stay in the restaurant for 3 hours eating little bits at a time. Eventually the staff hides for their evening nap and leave us alone barking orders. Meanwhile I'm completely bored with no one to talk English with and after an eternity leave tired and hungry. Like I said, not my favorite.

There are loads of wonderful restaurants and cafes totally hidden away. Here we walk down a bamboo lined path to a room with a full sized cherry tree replica and a fountain that simulates rain.

Here we sample specialty foods from Hue--the stuff I didn't get to eat while I was there, and thankfully not the shrimps that poisoned me. My favorite is the glutinous Banh It Ram, and my least favorite is yet another hotpot--chicken a la plastique.

So Long Ha Long

2011-01-11T14:15:00.011+07:00

It's about a 3 hour drive from Hanoi to Ha Long--not a very interesting drive except for the murderous traffic circles on the highway, the occasional accident site, and row after row of pineapple stalls.

We take a break at a highly tacky tourist trap selling all kinds of junk you wouldn't buy, like wine made from scorpions, snakes, or Geckos, like this one:

These giant geckos (Gecko gecko) are famous for scaring the hell out of campers with their loud "Gecko!" calls, but are becoming scarce because they become products like this.

The area is decorated with the most beautiful mountains. Unfortunately they are being totally quarried away for their marble to make brummagem. But who could bare to pass these up?

Fortunately, the beautiful Karst formations in Ha Long Bay are protected by Unesco and will be here until they crumble away. It is like being inside a beautiful watercolor painting on rice paper.

The Islets often keep a shear 90 degree cliff face as fresh limestone sheets peel off, while they are hollowed out from the inside. there are many caves here, though not many are accessible.

Here is our hotel for the night, the Emmeraude. It's a replica of one of the first French tourist steamboats in Ha Long bay in colonial times. There is a vast fleet of tourist ships, but except for the Emmeraude they are all wooden junks--they look very appealing, but I'd imagine they wobble and creak a bit more.

We are often followed by remora-like traders selling all kinds of crazy crap--mostly carved and uncarved shells, but also cookies, soda, junk food, beer, and anything else you can imagine. At hugely inflated prices, of course.

Our cabin is small but super quiet, thankfully blocking out the noise from our rowdy Vietnamese poker fiend neighbors. Unfortunately it is about as cold inside as it is outside--about 55 degrees, but cold for us Saigonese.

Elsewhere, people live their whole lives on floating villages in the bay. Unfortunately, visiting them is not on our itinerary.

The largest tourist stop, with hundreds of boats bumping and grinding together, is Surprise Cave, where the French have trained their little poodles and practiced their miming for ages.

The guides are pretty useless. They point out indistinct animal shapes in the muck. Otherwise, the cave is massive and a fun place to run around.

This one is supposed to be a turtle, and apparently a rich one. But don't bother wetting your beak, these are worthless 1,000 dong notes.

It's too cold to kayak, so we're ferried to a little pearl farm. Farming pearls is a complicated process which is filtered through a guide with only a smattering of English. So "mantle" becomes "mental," and somehow "gonads" becomes "coconut." They sell pearls here, but this is no place for bargains.

There's not much to do on the boat. However, Jenny picks up a new culinary skill--making a beautiful rose out of a tomato and mint leaves.

Dinner is fairly good, but the spring rolls are out of this world.

The next day we head for home. One major flaw with this trip is this: it isn't our first. Sadly, Ha Long Bay is a once in a lifetime opportunity and no more. People come so they can look around and realize they are not in Kansas, or New York, or London, and are as far away from home as it gets--not quite the same effect for Saigonese. There is snorkeling in the warmer season, though the waters are very murky and you won't see the absolutely amazing fish beneath you. But, thanks to Jenny's work benefits, it's all free for us.