Reflections on 'Nam

It has now been a few days since I stumbled groggily through customs back into the United States. I still am far from a regular sleeping pattern having channeled the overly-idealistic teenage girl in me and watched the Royal Wedding last night (not planned - I just woke up very alert at 330am). However, I haven't fallen asleep outside during my lunch break in a couple days now, so this is a plus. This will be my attempt to solidify my experiences into some sort of cohesive argument. Wish me luck . . .

As I mentioned in my previous post, it is extremely difficult for me to summarize my trip. I was just asked this morning what I did when I was over there, and I struggled with my answer. The problem is that no one will recognize the names of many of the places I visited. And until I began planning the trip, I didn't known either. I hadn't heard of Hoi An or Phu Quoc, or even Ha Long Bay. It just goes to show that as Americans, we know so little about this part of the world. This is the real tragedy because we spent nearly a decade fighting a war there. Of course, this is probably the answer as to why we know so little. It isn't exactly something people want to talk about. And as many view the war as a mistake and a scar on America's image, people would rather just forget. And they have.

Greg will tell you the same, but the number one response I got when I told people I was going to Vietnam was, "Why?" There is a widespread feeling that the Vietnamese hate Americans. Not true at all. They have definitely moved on. To understand that, we'd have to study history - something Americans are rarely bothered to do. The Vietnamese had been struggling for independence long before the American war. Near the end of WWII, even Roosevelt told the French to make no attempt to retake Indochina after the Japanese were defeated. Of course, our paranoia of Communism changed all that. In short, the Vietnamese view Americans as naive. Perhaps even well-intentioned, but stupid. And the stupid comment is geared toward the government alone because much is made of the American public's opposition to the war. American protests were important in Vietnamese propaganda as we saw at the Hanoi Hilton Museum and at the War Remnants Museum in Saigon. Beyond that, I have heard from numerous people (more so in the South), that the Americans are actually missed, but not for the reasons you'd think. It has nothing to do with U.S. soldiers fighting to protect South Vietnam. In true Communist fashion, it has to do with money. The Americans did wonders for the economy in the south and tipped very well. Once they left, all that remained were a few Soviet tourists who tipped dismally. After all, people in Saigon still refer to their city as Saigon. The only people who call it by its official name of Ho Chi Minh City seem to be party officials and flight attendants. I don't know if I'd go so far as to say the Americans are the reason that the south is so much more prosperous than the north, but I'm sure it didn't hurt. Just look at my comparison photos of Saigon to Hanoi below.

Saigon

Hanoi. Any questions?








Therefore, the problem with making generalizations is that internally there are contradictions. Would you rather America be judged simply by San Francisco or Mississippi? Exactly. What Greg and I witnessed in Vietnam is a transformation taking place - even within the span of our trip. You see, Vietnam hasn't had much time to come into its own. The Soviet Union was propping it up with money up to the early 90s. Vietnam had little incentive to engage in international trade or competition. But after the Soviet Union collapsed, Vietnam found itself without a sponsor and was forced to wake up. In just 20 years, the landscape changed dramatically, but it certainly has a long way to go. The reason people drive motorbikes has little to do with parking or traffic congestion. The fact of the matter is the VAT which fluctuates between 100-200%. To simplify this, it could cost you $40,000 to buy a base model Toyota Corolla. That's basically a life savings in a country where nice hotels are $20 a night and dinners are $1.50. The motorbike traffic results in rampant pollution - imagine yourself at an enlarged version of Disneyland's Autopia. Greg's hacking cough was testament to this. Unlike China, though, Vietnam doesn't try to deny its poor air quality. Face masks are extremely popular - coming in all sorts of designs and colors - particularly in the South. The North, in comparison, was a bit more reserved. Many wore old military helmets as protection from the sun and fashion tended to be more earth tones. It was not uncommon in the South to see people wearing USA jackets, American flag shirts, and hats with NBA teams on them. One might think that globalization is taking root, but not quite. McDonalds, the Starbucks of China, is virtually nonexistent in Vietnam. Fast foods, as a whole, are quite literally a foreign concept. This is a country where its culturally acceptable (and required) to shout and gesture to get service and the bill. Doing all at once would cause great confusion.

Vietnam is a communist country. Vietnam is not a communist country. But aren't they all? Vietnam is communist in the sense that one can operate a hotel and only let out one room a night and stay in business. And shockingly, there are no homeless people (that we saw). But as in all communist countries where "equality" is the ideal, someone finds a way to get ahead. So in the sea of motorbikes, a Mercedes E-Class beeps its way through (keep in mind the 200% import tax). Even in Saigon, where the economy seemed to be more "open," high-rise buildings were reminiscent of China with dozens of unoccupied floors. For Greg and I, prices were ridiculously cheap. Remember the 10¢ beer in Hoi An? But for locals, many things are still out of reach. When we were on Phu Quoc, Greg discovered that the tour promoters who walk the beach (not a bad job to have) make just $3 a day. Convert that to American cost of living and it would be as if I was making around $17 a day.

The fact that children are out selling to tourists rather than in school should not be that alarming. One only has to sell a bottle of water, a few postcards, or some other trinket to make more than $3. After all, what is the incentive of going to school and perfecting your English to make $3 a day when all you need is "Hello! One Dollar!" to get ahead. One young man who talked to us each day on Phu Quoc told us how he wanted to save up to go to Washington, DC someday. At $3 a day, it's going to take a while. It's a rather unfortunate setup, where those who work hard have the fewest incentives. But that's the irony of communism. Along with a communist government, comes paranoia of popular dissent. Ho Chi Minh and Le Duan were far from the despots that Stalin and Mao were, but very harsh precautions were taken to prevent the regime from external threats (roundup of everyone who supported the Americans during the war for example). Nowadays, things are more open with one key exception. Facebook. Facebook took off when a Vietnamese language version became available a few years ago. Recently, it has been blocked with no explanation given. This greatly troubled Greg and I because we could not figure out why. Sites like the Washington Post and the BBC worked fine. So did Twitter, Google, and Bing. Facebook makes it easy to stay in touch with people - perhaps family members in Da Nang or Nha Trang or perhaps . . . Vietnamese citizens who fled to America - settling in Orange County before the communist takeover.

I think it goes without saying that the Orange County lifestyle is a bit more desirable than living in Da Nang - and it would be my guess that the government doesn't want its people to know the extent of that affluence. But people in the South already know about the Vietnamese in Orange County - dropping names like Westminster and Garden Grove as if they've lived in SoCal their whole lives. Keeping in mind that the U.S. dropped an absurd amount of ordnance over Vietnamese towns and cities, defoliated the Mekong Delta causing generations of deformations, and napalmed the jungle, . . . the place that most Vietnamese aspire to visit is the United States. For me, it gives me this feeling of simultaneous guilt and pride. When we visited the VC tunnels at Cu Chi, our guide prefaced our tour with, "This video doesn't say the nicest things about Americans, but it's history. It's over." I would say this summarizes the Vietnamese attitude toward Americans. If they do go to school, they probably read a limited view emphasizing B-52 strikes, Agent Orange, and My Lai, but also that the American public was opposed to the war. Statistics may be warped and the math a bit fuzzy, but the Americans are not demonized.

Ramble, Ramble, Ramble. Perhaps I should make a conclusion. I have talked a lot about the war, when the reality is that the war has nothing to do with present-day Vietnam. It is very difficult to imagine that a war was even fought there. It is a country with untouched beauty and much to offer. Tourism is in its infancy. People are friendly - even if they are just trying to sell a t-shirt. Their driving is godawful, but probably better than your average Chicagoan.

Things like traffic signals and lines are merely a suggestion. Why wait in line behind someone, when you can cut them off? We have flaws of our own, as I was immediately reminded by the inefficient customs procedures at LAX. Capitalism and democracy don't ensure a pleasant and efficient process. I also remarked to Greg during an inefficient experience in Vietnam that I felt like I was at a CVS in D.C. So it's not an argument of us being better. We're just different. As much as one can read about Vietnam (and I had a lot of downtime at work), it means nothing until you get there. That may sound like a cliché (particularly due to American soldiers coming home and telling people they wouldn't understand because they weren't there). But it's entirely true - especially because the books I read were basically false. The Mekong Delta was not that agrarian - home to several decent size cities. Cat Ba Island was not the isolated island with no internet that the guidebooks depicted. And on that note, there was not a single night that we didn't have internet. You would be hard-pressed to find a hotel with wi-fi every night for over 2 weeks in the U.S. unless you stayed at a Super 8 every night. Vietnam is both ahead and behind - a complex mix of old-world habits and 21st century technology culture. It is no longer this mythical land of rice paddies and helicopters. That era is over and a new Vietnam has emerged. It is our turn to move on from our past and be able to recognize that a change has taken place. It is more than overdue.

Jetlag: You are killing me.

Whereas my blog was similar to Greg's throughout our travels, it has begun to differ a bit over the last couple days.  Greg has been able to enjoy the 80 degree temp and sunshine of Los Angeles, I have found myself in a windowless editing bay- finding out that my transition back to work would not be a smooth one.

I was greeted back with boxes of tapes and an unusually large amount of work for a jetlagged individual such as myself.  Beyond the work, however, people asked about my trip.  I struggle with generalizations so I end up talking about something that Angelenos can relate to: traffic.  I have felt much safer riding my bike to work now that I'm back.  The traffic signal is such a simple yet wonderful device.  Perhaps someday it will take off in Vietnam.

A few of my coworkers asked about the reception of Americans.  I would say people were generally very open-even if it was just to our wallets.  Of course there are a few, like the Hai Long hotel staff in Saigon who seem keen on fighting the Americans with shady billing rather than AK-47s, but I think they are the exception.  In all honesty, our reception back into the U.S. wasn't exactly warm either, with a lot of Homeland Security folk yelling at everyone to give themselves a feeling of importance.

When I am more alert, I will be able to write a more detailed essay on my reflections.  I will also upload more photos to facebook and my website someday, but right now my sleeping cycle is thoroughly messed up and I tend to fall asleep in front of the computer.  Check back in a few days for an update.

Back in Los Angeles

Well we are finally back in L.A. and more specifically IHOP.  Sometimes you need the calories.  I will post more in the coming days regarding my final reflections, but right now my head is so heavy it may fall in some pancakes.

The final leg

I got to use my limited knowledge of Korean with a taxi driver today.  And now we are boarding the plane to LA

Today I said, "Hello" to a child.

After taking the Redeye to Incheon, we hopped on the express train to downtown Seoul. We immediately went into culture shock. The train left precisely at 8:00am. Greg remarked that he could eat off of the airport's floor. Upon arrival in downtown, we felt like slobs as businessmen and women dressed sharply headed off to work.

We really had no idea where to go after the train station. Blind luck led us to Gyeongbokgung Palace. The complex was absolutely enormous. Signage made sense. There were crosswalks and traffic signals. Few people were honking and we didn't have to risk our lives to cross the street to the palace. This is quite novel. The palace was a very nice surprise to run across. Cherry blossoms are in bloom here. The temperature was a pleasant 62 degrees and nobody was trying to sell us anything. In fact, on that matter, we saw dozens of school children at the palace today.

It was unusual to have children say hello to me and ask my name without trying to sell me a flute and postcards at the same time. I was so taken by this that I even said, "Hello" back. A full conversation was had. We asked each others names and said it was nice to meet each other. This was an important milestone for me. These children were actually pleasant.

Anyway, we are both exhausted, but holding on. Greg is very excited about the new stamp in his passport. See what else he has to say at his blog. Some day, we'll actually get home. But April 25th is going to be the longest day of our lives . . . .literally. It will be the 25th for about 40 hours.

Goodbye Vietnam

Our last memories of Vietnam entail getting overcharged for our late checkout.  It was double the amount we agreed upon earlier, but that's Vietnam for you.  That really burned my cookies, but it's impossible to argue with people here.  They act as if we are talking crazy or that we are complete idiots.

This trend continued at Tan Son Nhat airport, where it costs $3 for a bottle of water.  The duty free store offers such fine Vietnamese products as hawaiian mac nuts.  I guess it's alright that we are leaving now.  Greg and I were cursing out numerous Vietnamese drivers today.  We certainly won't be missing that.  Next stop is Seoul!  We are a mere 6 hours away from access to facebook.  I can't stand this oppression any longer.

Operation Frequent Wind

That was the name President Ford used for the evacuation of Saigon on April 30, 1975. For those interested, April 30th is my birthday. Just throwin' that out there . . . you know . . . if you wanted to send cookies/pastries/cake/pie.

This is our last day in Saigon, which we spent on a bit of a historical tour. First we went to Reunification Palace (known in guidebooks as Reunification Palace, but upon arrival is labeled Independence Palace - the name used during Ngo Dinh Diem's reign.) I found it odd that they would choose to label it that way, but then again nothing in Vietnam really makes sense. See Below.

Today must have been some kind of Veterans Day because we saw several older servicemen and women around the grounds of the palace. It is also fast approaching the anniversary of the Communist takeover of Saigon (which incidentally is the same day as my birthday if you remember from above). Guidebooks say the palace is a time capsule - stuck as it was on that day in '75. I had envisioned papers strewn about, chairs upended, but it looked quite sterile . . . and boring. There were a few war maps of interest and a helicopter on a pad outside.

Two NVA pilots dropped bombs on the helipad days before the invasion, but even the bomb craters weren't visible. They were either patched up, or the bombs dropped were in fact watermelons. That would be kind of fun. After that, we went to the War Remnants Museum (formerly the war crimes museum). The gist is basically to make Americans feel bad about themselves. It wasn't as bad as the Hanoi Hilton Museum (the pilots had parties and cake was served). This museum attempted a slightly more balanced view (favoring the Vietnamese Communists of course), but some of the captions were a bit off. Either way, we both left feeling that the war was just such an epic waste of resources and manpower. Outside the museum was a collection of American tanks, artillery, and aircraft.

Victims of Agent Orange sat at the entrance promoting a charity. Outside, a man missing both his arms came up to talk to me about where I was from and seemed so pleased that an American was visiting the museum, but then (and this was awkward) he extended his nonexistent hand to shake with me.

I'm going to go ahead and say that this might have been a worse experience than when I visited Hiroshima and got mobbed by Japanese schoolgirls to write a letter for peace to their school. Needless to say, this was all very depressing, and Greg and I were anxious to get out of there and grab some lunch.

We searched around for the apartment building made famous for this photo, but it seems to have been leveled since the war. The U.S. Embassy (now consulate) has also been completely remodeled, now hidden behind a high concrete wall. But Greg and I often reflect on what we have witnessed during our time in Vietnam, and it is very difficult for us to believe that a war was fought here. As far as tourists go, there are very few Americans here. It is as if our country is still caught up in the divisiveness that the war caused: unable to overcome its legacy. I would just like to reiterate that Vietnam is a country, not a war.

Finding Ways to Blow our Dong

Shortly after arriving back in Saigon, I hit up an ATM. Though I had about 20 different Vietnamese bills in my wallet, it basically amounted to being worth $5. I felt it necessary to take out another 2 million dong to make it through the next 24 hours. This means I may have a little extra, so it's good to use it up.

We've been living lavishly. We were upgraded to a deluxe superior room. I was envisioning something with a piano in the corner and maybe a fireplace, but it more resembles a standard room in a Holiday Inn. This is perfectly fine because our location is excellent. We're within 4 blocks of some excellent photo locations.

We first did some scouting on the rooftop bar of the famous Rex Hotel, a popular hangout of war correspondents back in the 60s and 70s. This is roughly the location of where the famous photo of a helicopter evacuating Saigon was taken. Nowadays, there are so many high-rises in the way it is impossible to see the building.

Post-Rex, Greg was surprisingly hungry for pastries. Using my phone, I found us a French-style bakery within 3 blocks, and Greg wolfed down a cream-cheese danish. Let me tell you, that boy is really putting on the pounds. He's lookin' like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man these days.

We then set about doing some time-lapse in the Dong Khoi District. I made a point to not replicate any of Greg's shots, but he's sleeping now, so you'll have to wait a few hours to see his posting. In the meantime, I've uploaded a couple time-lapse sequences I shot. First off is the ol' Rex itself.



The next is from the roof of the Majestic Hotel by the Saigon River. This was an unassuming hotel - not nearly as famous as the Continental, the Caravelle, or the Rex, but according to the ad in the elevator, they have a pirate show - and not just any pirates . . . Vietnamese pirates! I don't know how they aren't in Vegas yet. Give it time.


We then had a delightful time at a nearby beer garden. It was similar to the Hofbrau Haüs except there were no Germans. Vietnamese servers were dressed in traditional Germanic garb - serving a bit of beer and broken English. ^_^ Eating traditional Vietnamese pho-bo with chopsticks with a liter of German-brewed ale is not too shabby.

Just a lil timelapse

Shockingly, Greg and I are picking up wi-fi from the 5 star Rex Hotel, so we couldn't waste that opportunity.  We are both shooting timelapse outside the peoples committee building.  I didn't want to have the same exact shot, so I moved across the street.  His stream of lights will be red.  Mine will be very white - much like Greg. 

I may have yet another post tonight about our afternoon adventures in Saigon, so stay tuned.

Das ist ze Invasion!

We woke up to heavy rain this morning, but it was actually quite nice.  It cooled things down a bit (there is no a/c in the room).  We just stuck around the resort this morning.  By the time the massage lady finally showed up, it was just an hour before we had to leave.  This would have been ok, except I got blitzkrieged by a middle-aged German women who cut in front of me to get a pedicure on her nasty leathery-looking feet. 

The invasion is getting out of control.  I get scared.  We are severely outnumbered.  Our goal now is just to get out of here and back to friendly territory.  I wore my German soccer jersey to try and blend in.   We got on the minibus to go to the airport, but two more Germans got on.  Greg and I conversed in the safest way we know -  lots of "scheissys" and "ja wohls" with the sporadic "flughafen" thrown in to really sell it.  I think we might actually make it out of here...

Born to be Wild

Get your motor running and such. Greg and I were bikers for the day. After catching sunrise on the eastern part of the island, we spent the rest of the morning lounging around under a thatched umbrella with the obligatory Saigon beer. Biking is surprisingly hard work.



If you just watched the above video, you will be glad to know that I am fine and completely uninjured. If your name is Brigette, you will be disappointed that you can not say, "I told you so." I didn't end up in a terrible motorbike spill as would appear by the video. In fact, I was just experimenting with a mount for my GoPro camera - which fell off the bike shortly after I started it up, but I thought it was a pretty neat video all the same. You will be glad to know that the camera is in stable condition and responds to simple commands.

Anyway, I had a bit of insomnia last night so I was thinking a lot about the pedigree of this island as a tourist destination. Sitting on near-empty beaches with a cold drink and watching clear blue water roll in makes it seem idyllic. Early on, I thought to myself, this is a place I would like to bring the lovely Nicole. (No offense to my alabaster-skinned comrade) But gazing up at the mesh mosquito netting over my head, I began to think differently.

You see, despite the few hotels that line the road for about a mile, this is still a very undeveloped place. If you want warm water, it's best to shower in the afternoon, when the water in the pipes has had a chance to warm up from the sun. After that, it will be quite cold, as Greg discovered this evening and then muttered something about looking forward to showering in Saigon. There are bugs everywhere. My right eye hurts from impacting the big ones at 80kmh (they always aimed for my right eye for some inexplicable reason) - all while choking on dust kicked up by a bus. Greg and I have seen a lot of couples here, but it must take a certain kind of couple to wake up under a mosquito net. Then again, these are mostly Germans. They know nothing about love.

I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining. In fact it's those undeveloped aspects that give Phu Quoc its charm. Any other place would put a barrier offshore to prevent the jellyfish from inundating the beaches. But seeing them was interesting to us. They only interrupted our game of coconut ball about 5 times.

In case you are wondering, coconut ball is where you find an old coconut lying on the beach and toss it back-and-forth like a football as illustrated by the "great white hope" above.

Alas, our time on this island draws to a close. Phu Quoc: an island we knew so little about, but which possibly became the highlight of our trip. Tomorrow morning, we may get massages on the beach. I believe it was 60,000 dong for an hour (less than $3). Maybe I'll do 30 mins for $1.50. Tomorrow we go back to Saigon so Greg can take his warm shower. There's a lot to do in Saigon, but it may be difficult after our time on Phu Quoc.

For more inspiring photos, and less rambling, see Greg's blog.

I'm tired, covered in dust, and loving it.

This morning, we woke up very early and got on our motorbikes to get to the eastern side of the island. It is actually a pretty large island, so this took us at least 45 minutes. Our efforts were rewarded by our best sunrise yet. I haven't loaded any of my pictures yet, but I believe Greg is posting a few to his blog for now.

I do however have a video to offer you - taken with a helmet-mounted camera. Dear mom, you will notice that we are both wearing helmets. Unclench. We also drove safely - yielding to both cows and dogs alike. I would never do this in Hanoi or Saigon, but traffic on the island is light, so it was perfect for us to just enjoy the ride. I will try to upload photos tonight.

Greg has Crabs

First off, Congrats to my Dad on making it back from the Boston Marathon. Second, happy birthday to my sister. I apologize for being unable to buy you a model galleon. Perhaps a postcard will have to do.

For weeks we have risked our lives to cross streets, but for a few days at least, we may have a break. We have arrived on Phu Quoc Island – what seems so far to be a fairly undeveloped island, but with the potential to become a massive resort location. Fortunately for Greg and I, we are here at a time when there are no other Americans on the island. Just Germans (see Greg’s blog) . . . and three Mexicans (see below).

I was finally able to change into board shorts and jumped in the warm blue water as soon as I could. Even Greg jumped in. As we all know, Greg is out of his element in water, but even he couldn’t resist its call. We spotted a few jellyfish



And Greg found crabs, which I then followed with my GoPro.



I should now say that just a day or two ago, Greg and I were talking about how we didn’t attract as much curiosity here in Vietnam as we expected. In China, I had my hair touched and was ogled constantly. It’s even more alarming that Greg hasn’t caused such a stir, but that all changed today. I was in the middle of doing some video of some passing fishing boats when a man saw me and jumped out, but he was not jumping into the water to see me. He swam toward Greg faster than Michael Phelps. He rambled off something in Vietnamese, which I would roughly translate as, “My God, you are whiter than frightened milk! Let me touch you!” But whatever it was, he found Greg hilarious.

We watched sunset from near our "resort" (in quotes because I don't think hotels on Tahiti give you a mosquito net when you check in). I'm sure Greg has some that are much better on his blog, but here's my photo just for good measure.

"I'm sick of sitting here with my pants on."

That would be a quote from me - venting my frustration that our hotel won't have our room ready for another hour.  So here we are sitting and eating banana pineapple pancakes on the beach to kill time.  . .and I'm wearing pants.  This is just a terrible situation.  Don't like pants. 

In other news, the minibus that took us to our resort from the boat dock was transformed into a party bus when three overweight Mexicans hopped in with their ipod and a bose stereo.  We got to listen to terrible club music for 30 mins.  But the most interesting thing about this is.  . .Mexicans.  . .Vietnam?  Who knew?  I think they might be the first.   It's like I was able to watch Neil Armstrong walk on the moon.

Below is our current view. 

Well that wasn't how I imagined it at all . . .

We've now reached Rach Gia: where the Mekong Delta flows into the Gulf of Thailand. We are a long way from Saigon, but you almost wouldn't know. We spent three hours in a car today and saw two rice paddies. Going through the Mekong Delta is about as rural as a trip down the 101. Everyone (including the Eyewitness Guide to Vietnam) is a liar. But tomorrow we depart the Mekong Delta region by speedboat. Our vessel is the SuperDong III. Ha!

Anyway, Jason SuperStar gave us some CDs to remember our little journey through the delta. As they are pretty much the only pictures of Greg and I together, I thought it appropriate to post them now since I don't really have anything new since my last posting.

Jason SuperStar begins to give us food that we don't know.

Last time I drove a boat, it was probably on rails.

Here we have Jason SuperStar himself - with our Mekong lunch.

And finally a picture of us receiving a pineapple from the floating market this morning.




Right now we're just relaxing in our $15/nt hotel suite with balcony. We are the only westerners in this town except for two others we saw walking down the street earlier. And they stood out like Marcus Brody in a Tunisian market. We, on the other hand, blend right in.

Next update will be from Phu Quoc Island!

Can Tho

We got up early again to meet with Jason SuperStar. We sat atop our boat for a better view of the floating market. As Greg mentioned in his blog, it was overcast, so no epic sunrise shots over the market, unfortunately.

It was still interesting to see, though. We pulled up next to one of the boats that had a mountain of pineapples in its hold. A lady sliced one up right in front of us and passed it over to our boat - a delightful little morning snack. We later ended up walking through a market, where we witnessed such appetizing delights as pig's head, pig's ear, pig's cheeks, and the intriguing pig's eyes. There was also rat if you're into that. We ended up getting chicken and rice. Not exactly what I was craving for breakfast, but we got to sit on tiny plastic stools.

People really seem to enjoy sitting very low to the ground here. I'm not sure why - it really isn't that comfortable. I guess there's a chair shortage in Vietnam.

Anyway, after our fine breakfast of chicken and rice, I'm really starting to crave an In N' Out Burger. That may be my first stop after getting back to L.A.

We've actually had some pretty good meals here, but I think it's reaching the point where I just really want a big juicy burger and sweet potato fries - finished off with some of Nicole's chocolate chip cookies. We spent a little bit of time on an island in the Mekong/investment miscalculation. I guess someone thought tourists would come in droves. Nope, just us. We got to fish for crocodiles, though. They seemed to like chicken for breakfast much more than I did.

Tonight we're in Rach Gia - a town we know nothing about. Cross your fingers for wi-fi.

On the search for Kurtz

.

Today we entered the Mekong Delta. It is not really what I expected. I blame movies like Apocalypse Now for leading me to believe it was some kind of agrarian-only, primitive landscape. It is actually very built up and developed. For example, I'm using wi-fi right now if that gives you any indication. It is a far cry from being the isolated jungle that I imagined. We are being guided through the delta by a man who calls himself Jason SuperStar. He's an interesting fellow to say the least. Throughout the course of the day, we broke just about every rule in terms of safe foods to eat. We went through a market and Jason SuperStar kept picking up various fruits and food items for us to eat. We felt awkward turning them down, so we ate everything - including a fish that Greg caught - and I killed. Yeah, sh*t gets crazy in the delta - I'm a changed man now.

Of course, we didn't just spend the whole day eating questionable foods and beating the hell out of defenseless fish. Hopefully PETA doesn't come after me after what I did today. Fortunately I'm in Vietnam, where earlier today a man was prepping a rooster for a cock-fight, so such crimes as bludgeoning a fish are pretty mundane in comparison. We also walked around a buddhist temple, where I was touched by a baby (scary). We also took turns at driving a boat through the delta. Greg has since changed his mind about photography altogether to pursue a career as a cockswain.

But I digest...
It would seem by following our blogs, that Greg and I are just drinking beer the entire trip. This is true, but needs to be qualified with the following: We know only about 60% of what we're eating. The other 40% could be contaminated with water or some sort of bacteria. Beer is not only cheaper in most instances - it contains a vital ingredient that kills aforementioned bacteria. And today, we were especially nervous - convinced that untreated tap water had made its way into our systems. Accordingly, Greg and I did shots with a man in the Delta. We don't know his name, his story, or really anything about him other than that he makes his own fruit wine. Greg estimates that it was around 110 proof. I liked it so much, I bought it off him to fend off any other bacteria that may assault me in the next few days.



The moral is this: neither of us got sick. I would say we dodged one hell of a bullet. We did, however, get sleepy and laid out on hammocks for a while - passing time by taking slow-shutter pictures of ourselves. Even you will feel a little buzzed after looking at them. Check out Greg's page for an example.

We are now in Can Tho, a town in the delta that is significantly larger than I expected. I don't know how often we can expect to have Wi-Fi in the future. Hopefully we will be able to update again in Rach Gia, and again on Phu Quoc Island.

Big Ol' Fat Rain

When I booked the boat trip to Cu Chi, I wasn't sure what to expect. Everybody else gets to the tunnels by bus or hired car, so this was certainly unique. We were cruising down the Saigon River a la Miami Vice!




The tour of the Vietcong tunnels at Cu Chi was great. It was just Greg, a young lady from New Zealand, and myself.

We were first shown a very small opening in the ground that served as one of hidden entrances to the tunnels. I imagine that 95% of the people visiting aren't able to fit through this opening, but Greg and I being skinny as we are, were able to squeeze through no problem.

We also crawled through some of the tunnels (100m worth to be exact) and got a good workout for our legs. Surprisingly it was not very cool in the tunnels - we all emerged sweating as if coming out of a sauna. Given the cramped space and darkness, it was also very difficult to take pictures. All I was able to muster is this picture of Greg's arse.

Also as part of the tour, there was a shooting gallery. The girl from New Zealand fired a gun for the first time in her life - and jumped right into the foray by unloading from an M-60 (dubbed by our guide as the "Rambo gun") Greg also tried his hand at some shooting. I chose not to fire anything. After all, it was no Knob Creek. But I do believe that this was Greg's highlight of our journey to Cu Chi. He was as giddy as a schoolboy. No doubt he will have been inspired to write poetry and song about this life-changing experience. See for yourself here.

After the tour, we got back on the boat for the hour journey back to Saigon. It started to rain almost immediately. And because our boat moved quite swift, it actually hurt when the drops hit me - especially because it was the big ol' fat rain. It almost felt like hail.

But as Forrest would say, "Someone come and turn off all the rain . . . and the sun came out." We ate dragon fruit and bananas and watched the orange glow of the sun reflect off the Saigon River.

Da Nang - Saigon

This morning we landed in Saigon. I shot some time-lapse out the plane window. The flight was no-frills by all counts. Leg room was non-existent. I was basically eating the hair of the passenger in front of me after they reclined. But worst of all . . . no beverage or snack service. Oh and there were squawking British babies everywhere. Who brings infants to Vietnam? Bah.






Anyway, Saigon is worlds apart from Hanoi. Though there is always talk about whether the U.S. lost the war in Vietnam, one thing is clear - we won the culture war. Mickey Mouse t-shirts adorn scooter drivers, coffee shops are ubiquitious, and a little Paul McCartney blared from the taxi driver's playlist. It appears to be more prosperous down here - at least from my first impressions. In a half hour, we get picked up to charge up the Saigon River to the tunnels at Cu Chi.

Danang is closed today...

We arrived in Danang early this afternoon.  And it seems to be closed.  We ventured out for lunch and there is nothing.  And we are in the business district.  It is almost as bad as being in D.C. after 5:00.  In any event, it's a far cry from Hoi An.  We are the only westerners for miles.  We finally found lunch at a small cafe.  Here we had some sweet tea and omelettes. 

Also, since I keep forgetting to mention it, we did laundry a couple days ago in Hué.  That note is mostly for Nicole, who expressed concern over the size of my pack.  For the record, I havent worn any of my shirts more than once.  And now that we have our custom-tailored shirts to add to the rotation, I think we will be covered.

Danang is kind of a bust.  We are now killing time.  I spent a good amount of time in the cafe on the facebook app on my phone, which inexplicably works.  FB cannot be accessed through browser or on Gregs app.  Therefore I can only assume that I am the only person in Vietnam with access to facebook.  This gives me unprecedented power to poke, chat, and check-in at my will.  Freedom cannot ever be completely denied.

And on that note, I thought I would post the hotel's ominous guest warnings -  particularly regarding no contacting of friends and relatives and no leaving the hotel.  What kind of communist regime would do such a.  .  .oh right.  Though I think more likely something got lost in translation (or whatever I have to say to prevent my blog from being blocked).    And here is one last photo from Danang - our sweet tea at the cafe.  And that's about as exciting as it gets here in Danang. 

EDIT FROM DANANG AIRPORT:

Danang really is hell on earth.  Our hotel has a rooftop lounge, but it was never open.  We had a nice dinner in the beach area, but were scammed by the cab on the way back.  He didn't take the direct way and rigged the meter.  We called shenanigans on him, but to little avail.  Greg's tripod can no longer be carried on and my nail trimmers were confiscated.  What is this...Canada?  The Danang airport is tastefully decorated with old, dirty concrete and Soviet-influenced lines.  There are no shops or food vendors and I am very hungry.  There is a tv playing state-run programming.  The only thing interesting to look at are the hangars across the tarmac that seem to have migs in them.  Given our experience here thusfar, I'm afraid to take a picture.  I think I would be shot.  This is where American armed forces came to relax during the war.  Hard to believe...