Happy New Years!

Since we just had our new years celebrations about 15-18 hours before all of you (and even a couple of minutes early according to my watch) I'm here to tell you that the future is looking pretty good so far. It started with a passable cup of coffee and a pretty good bowl of pho.

Last night's new year's party was definitely the most intense we've ever been to. There was a huuuuge bonfire, some unskilled fire dancers (one woman accidentally threw half of her fire stick into the ocean and proceeded to, unsuccessfully, look for it for about half an hour), girls dressed in skimpy costumes, guys dressed like total wankers, a bad DJ spinning house music, etc. We only felt slighty lame as we sat on our beach blanket, in the same clothes we've been wearing for two months, sipped at our drinks, and left shortly after midnight. No buckets of liquor for us. No thank you.

We hope that you all have a good night tonight and that you're level of drunkeness is exactly as you'd like it to be. See you in '08! Only 7 days left in Viet Nam...

and now into 2008

Yep. I never thought that I would sink to the low of an asian brothel, though the night started innocently enough with a beer and a snack on the street with some nice folks (above). I maintain that it was most awkward for me, as a woman, to be stuck in that situation, though Ryan disagrees with me. We eventually heard from Richard, the Aussie, and were relieved to find out that he was not kidnapped by pimps, bled (too) dry for money, and still in one piece. He was a bit cryptic about what ended up happening after he left, but frankly, I don't want to know. We just had coffee with him in Mui Ne, where we've spent time already. Apparently we had the same brilliant idea as everybody else to spend New Year's on the beach, and were barely able to find a room.

As Richard already said, I had a few too many Saigons in Saigon (the south's watery beer), and have been feeling pretty homesick. A bout of traveller's diarreah hasn't helped, though I'm psyching myself up for new years on the beach. Richard told us about a cool party at a windsurfing club just down the beach. We are going to spend a ridiculous sum of money to be there - $15, gasp!

Before we left Saigon, we took a cooking class to learn some dishes we can cook back at home. Like many Vietnamese tourist outfits, this one was a bit sketchy, and eager to get as much money from us as it could. We also had a class full of wankers - certifiable. A greek professor who either had ears full of wax or an incapacity for following directions never understood what ingredients he had to put into his spring rolls, fish claypot, etc. etc. His greek wife who was such a picky eater that she asked for most of the ingredients to be omitted that she didn't like. No fish sauce, no fried garlic, no tamarind sauce. I think she just made plain rice noodles. Another greek guy, a restaurant owner, had to videotape everything while trying to make food, and also take cell phone calls to talk idly about his vacation, while the class waited for him. We sort of learned some cooking techniques, but mostly just got treated like kindergartners, complete with a graduation ceremony at the end. However, we're excited to try outsome dishes for all of you back home, so hopefully you'llbe understanding, considering the level of instruction we received.

Here's a pic of Ryan fishing for aquarium fish on Phu Quoc. He is wearing his Korean boyscout shirt that he found in a street stall. For some reason, everyone in Vietnam finds this funny, and Ryan gets numerous cries of 'korea, hahaha!' as we walk down the street, especially in Saigon. Happy New Year everybody! Since we experience it first,we'll send good vibes across the world and hope you enjoy yours!

No photos

How do I even begin to describe what happened to us last night...?

We went on a tour of the Cu Chi tunnels yesterday near SaiGon with a small tour group. After many deeply disturbing pro-war anti-american comments in a video about the American War, we were lead through some of the very tiny tunnels and shown the booby traps and secret entrances. We crawled along underground for 100 meters or so and had some really funny photos of me sliding into one of the entrances and crawling on our hands and knees - but, alas, we managed to leave our camera in the bus when we got back to SaiGon. We realized this about 5 minutes after getting off of the bus and ran as quickly as we were able to the tour company. They called their driver and he assured us that there was no camera on the bus. Luckily we had uploaded our photos the previous day so we didn't lose more than 20 or 30 pictures. Either way, our camera is probably being sold on some street corner this morning and, if the rest of our story hadn't taken place, we might have had the energy to look for it.

Back at the tour office we ran into an Aussie who was on our tour having a beer with our tour guide, a Vietnamese man named "Joey." The story of this nickname is long and uninteresting, but suffice to say that he was an early 40's man who managed to weave random American sayings (Tomorrow never come, die another day...) and homophobic comments (Michael Jackson is three dollar bill...) into most sentences. After joining Joey and a half dozen of his friends for 3 or 4 or 5 beers and Peking duck, we were invited to go to Karaoke with them all. We had a few more beers, sang Abba songs and a drunk Vietnamese man tried to grope Audrey as he very aggressively danced with her.

Up to his point we were drunk and happy, but as people left the club Joey took the three of us along to what sounded like another dance club. What we thought was a club ended up being a brothel. Yes, we were led through a locked gate, up a dark flight of stairs into a large room with a huge wrap around couch. The lights dimmed and we couldn't believe our eyes as 15-20 scantily clad girls walked into the room and poured our beers. We'd been hearing about Joey's wife and eleven year old son all day! Auds and I couldn't just leave - we wanted to watch out for our new friend Richard who seemed just as uncomfortable as we did. Joey picked out a girl for Richard and kept telling Audrey to let me have a girl. He chose two for himself and two for another friend of his. Would they leave the room at some point? Were people about to start getting down as we sipped on our beers? We had no idea what was happening now, but Joey kept telling us to "be cool." Audrey was asked to chat with one of Joey's girls as he groped her chest (she is 28, born 4 hours from SaiGon, doesn't like her job, is trying to learn better English, etc...). Things went on like this for an hour. We drank our beers, talked, asked if we should leave, felt really really uncomfortable and, thankfully, no one did anything. We just wanted out of there, but as we got up to leave Joey told us to wait for the bill. We were expected to pay for... something. Apparently Joey expected Richard, Audrey, and I to pay about eighty bucks for the pleasure of sitting and drinking beers in the company of these women. We hadn't really expected to be paying prostitutes and only had eight or ten dollars on us. I can't emphasize enough how out of our element we were. We didn't want to leave Richard alone; he was much more drunk that us and we doubted that he'd be able to make it to his hotel. We weren't exactly sober, had no idea where in the city we were, wanted desperately to get out of there, but felt like we couldn't. We ended up giving Richard the money that we had with the promise to pay back to him anything more that we owed. I guess that he ended up staying with Joey and the girls. As we left, I told him to meet us at a nearby coffee shop at 11 this morning - which is right now. I'd better head over there to get the rest of the story. Updates to follow...

It was definitely the strangest night we spent in Viet Nam, and the most uncomfortable. Anyway, it was by far the most memorable night of our trip... so far. I don't think that I can come close to accurately conveying all of it through my wicked hangover.

kidnapped by phu quoc

Heads still hurting a little from last night's goodbye celebration, Ryan and I are back on the mainland. We were planning on leaving two days ago, but the island lady seduced us into staying for another couple. We got to check out the pepper groves (apparently Viet Nam is the biggest exporter of peppercorns and grow mostly in Phu Quoc), fish sauce factories (stank!), chase tropical fish through the coral reefs and play with the puppies of the indigenous dogs. You can tell the dogs that are native because they have a distinctive line of hair that grows up their back. If I wasn't worried about testing the limit of my parents' hospitality when we return to stay with them for a month or two, one of these little guys would definitely have stowed away in my pack.

Ryan also enjoyed the services of the massage ladies that aggressively hawk their services, almost to the point of throwing you onto their mats. They insisted that we should come back next year with two babies, and also to cut Ryan's toenails. This they did for free which proves just how bad they thought his talons were.

We befriended Hans from Holland and his wife Linh from Vietnam who barbecued the best seafood ever on the beach and sold very fun alcoholic beverages that came in fruity containers (pineapples, coconuts...) They talked freely about their relationship and how barbecuing and selling drinks helps keep them afloat, along with Hans' pension from Holland - interesting arrangement. I got a chance to work on my German skills as there were many Germans there and realized how rusty I was. The whole scene was really one of international cooperation as Hans pulled out the guitar and we tried to find common ground with a singalong. Many accents roared (badly) into the night sky singing Johnny Cash, Elvis, and other 60s American rock. I am sure that the fruity drinks helped people's confidence, though they didn't make us feel so good today on the rickety fishing boat we snagged to get over to the mainland. The view from the bbq spot was amazing.

Here's Ryan checking out the phu quoc market, and a shot of our illustrious fishing vessel/ferry that somehow managed to bring us back to mainland vietnam (about 5 hrs later).

Just 2 weeks left in our trip and we can't believe we have so little time! No malaria yet though the mosquitos are vicious down here. It is Christmas eve and so far we've eaten sticky rice, been chased through the market by one of the most aggressive tour guides ever - he really was running after us, and talked to an old mechanic for South Vietnamese and American forces during the American war. This evening we go to the buddhist temples on Sam Mountain, a distinctly different experience from any Christmas eve I've ever had. Wishing we were there to give everyone a hug and roll you a spring roll!

bumpy road to paradise

We're now as south as we're gonna get, on Phu Quoc island off the southern tip of Vietnam. It is officially the most beautiful place Ryan and I have ever been. However, getting here takes considerable effort, which is probably why the place isn't a typical boring western-type resort. And did I mention that there are sunsets? We're very happy about this arrangement.

The journey south started in Can Tho, unofficial capitol of the Mekong. It was here that Ryan exercised some culinary bravado and (plug your ears mugs) ate some half developed chicken fetuses. This may not sound crazy to some who have traveled in Asia, but the whole scene was really a crackup. Walking into a clean looking restaurant that smelled good, we were confronted by a menu in Vietnamese only, and with items we hadn't seen before. Instead of trying to guess, we simply pointed at the table next to us where they were cooking up a savory soup and throwing things in. The bubbling savory broth was delicious (I picked around the chopped up bits of pig? stomach) and you could throw in noodles, lots of greens, squash blossoms, and eggs. I threw in a whole egg, just guessing, and our waitress came over about 10 minutes later to fish it out and open it, apparently we were cooking it too long. Inside was a fully formed chick, right down to the little feet. It stayed in its egglike form and Ryan motioned to fellow diners as if to ask 'so, I just pop it in my mouth?' They nodded and he threw the whole thing down the hatch, everyone watching, and retched a few times before having to spit it back in his bowl. No bueno! This elicited some thumbs down responses and laughter from our neighbors. Ryan eventually did retry and swallow his ABC fetus, but no one was watching so he couldn't redeem himself. He said that the weirdest thing was the combination of egg yolk and meat, not the little fully formed chicken parts. I abstained. And, we forgot the camera! Although perhaps not many would be interested in regurgitated food anyway...

Beyond the surprise eggs, we also took in a floating market on the mekong. I'm a food and market nerd, and I was kind of excited. Vendors flew fruit and veggie 'flags' to show what they sold. This formidable flag flew above a huge boat, apparently a one stop shop for all you could need in the world of produce:

Ryan contemplates the flag. His favorite was the melon flag.

Leaving Can Tho, we were packed into a minibus for the 3 hour ride to Rach Gia. We had the misfortune of sitting next to a sick woman who vomited and retched the entire ride. My weak stomach was maxed out, and Ryan and I kept searching through our bags trying to find empty plastic ones for this woman to fill. How so much could come out of one small woman, we haven't figured out. Our driver cared little as he laughed on his cell phone, blew cigarette smoke back into his human cargo, and careened recklessly through traffic. Everyone else adopted a particularly "dee de dee" attitude (in the words of Carlos Mencia and my mother), as she retched away beside me. It was only on leaving that we realized she had left her (very full) bags of vomit to ooze all over the floor. Awesome. From now on, we're paying attention to who brings an empty bag with them on the bus - they know in advance that they're not gonna make it.

SaiGon

It occurred to us last night for the first time that in contrast to the first few weeks of our trip when our time in Viet Nam felt limitless, the last couple of weeks have absolutely flown by. We've somehow spent 5 nights in Ho Chi Minh City and had no real idea that it is already the 11th of December. Maybe we've gotten a little lazy and let the $2/hr massages get the best of us, but today we're finally moving on into the Mekong Delta. We need more riding bicycles and wandering aimlessly instead of the stuffy city life where we eat dinner, get a 2L of bia hoi for $.65, and look at souvenirs to buy for people. We are taking a bus this afternoon to Can Tho, the capital of the Mekong, and see what "the real vietnam" is all about.

satisfaction and succor of cheap food

Just had to ooze enjoyment for a minute about the cheap eats - so far, despite trying fancier restaurants where we paid nearly $6 total (yikes!) for a meal, by far the best has been buying a sandwich from the sandwich lady, dumpling from the dim sum man, pho from the corner, and ridiculously good fish, pork, etc. soups from the market. Che is an awesome pudding-like dessert of tapioca and various tropical fruits and coconut milk, but my favorite is when they make it with sweetened mung beans. It looks gross, but tastes divine, is different everywhere and costs about 10 cents.

And, the nonexistent liquor laws let you take the picnic into the park. Here I am enjoying an amazing pate omelette sandwich, tiger beer and dessert of che, all to the tune of $1.50, on the beach. That's what I'm talking about.

Depressing post

For a few weeks now I've been plotting a post in my head about the American war. It was something about the parallels between Ho Chi Minh and Abraham Lincoln, the near in visibility of the effects of the war unless you are really searchng it out, etc., but now, after spending the last 2+ hours in the War Rememberance Museum, my heart just isn't in it.

Outside of the building there stand captured American planes, guns, tanks and opposite them are their Vietnamese counterparts.

You walk into the museum and are immediately confronted with a section titled "War Truths" (3 million Vietnamese dead, 2 million wounded, 300,000 missing, etc.) and them proceed to an exhibition of photographs from both American and Vietnamese journalists. Reading caption after caption under photographs of American and Vietnamese dead was difficult. From there you are funnelled into a room with a television and a video about the lasting effects of Agent Orange. 70% of Vietnamese are under 35 year od. Agent Orange, while having a short life span in the foilage that it was meant to destroy can stay in human skin cells for up to ten years.

Because of this, many children born between 1970 and 1985 to parents who were sprayed with these chemicals have birth defects that I can only liken to the photographs of Thalydamide babies during the Reagan administration, only these children lived and are now 20-30 years old living in sanitariums, begging for money on the street, and a few are leading normal lives (our current hotel manager seems to have been one of Agent Orange's unfortunate victims).

After the video is an exhibit of American war crimes beginning with a large banner stating "We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal..." and then many many photos of people badly burned with white phosphorous. Around this time it became hard to look at any more documentation of the My Son (My Lai) massacre. We skimmed through the exact replicas of Tiger Cages used by the Southern Vietnamese government during the '50s and were are little too overwhelmed to really study the entire room dedicated to the world wide anti-war movement. After a photograph of Normal Morrison, I was done.

Who needs a drink...?

To cheer you all up here is a painting of Arnold on the wall of a bodybuilding studio here in SaiGon.

So you fancy yourself a bike messenger...

After hearing my courier friends talk about the good old days when a job to Bellevue carrying twenty pounds of architecture blueprints only made you $4 richer, I have been amazed at the things carried around on bicycles here in Vietnam. We've seen a family of four on a bicycle (one sitting with child on lap, one standing pedaling, and one sitting on the rack), dozens of live chickens strung up by their feet, a ridiculous amount of pommelo fruits, multipe four foot tall blown up Santas, a man riding with a six foot vase in each of his "panniers," etc. By the way, this is what the panniers look like:


This isn't even mentioning the stuff the Vietnamese will pile onto a cyclo or a motorbike.
In the museum of ethnology there is a bike loaded with one minority man's daily load of fish traps:


It is something like 180 fish traps! I wouldn't have believed it if there weren't a photograph on him riding with all of it. In the markets people transport their goods to and from almost every day and this includes glassware, jeans, raw meat, eggs, live ducks, etc . I'll try and be swifter with my camera from now on to not miss so many amazing bike loads. I thought that I was doing well fitting three twelve packs in my bag, now I'll have to get an extra extra large one to up the ante...

We tried to rent bicycles again in Nha Trang, but ended with similar results to the ones in Ha Noi (i.e. a broken chain and me covered in grease).
























I feel like I could make a fortune here with only a bottle of chain lube, a 15mm wrench, and some grease for bottom brackets and hubs. Unfortunately the bike mechanics that we've seen on the street seem to charge next to nothing and mostly change tires. We have seen someone completely rebuilding a wheel on a street corner, but we've also seen someone fix a rear hub by forcing a flat head screwdriver into it with a hammer.


















I'd be surprised if there was such a thing as trueing a wheel here. I'll be happy to get back home where I can bring my broken bikes to Counterbalance and feel bad about myself whenever my chain gets to be black.

"Hilarious" Beach Party!

There's nothing like a nice walk on the beach with the warm ocean breeze, fishing fleet anchored nearby, and the severed rotting head of a dog, teeth bared, neck-bone cleanly chopped through to start a morning (no picture, you're welcome). Judging from the teeth and the skull size, the head had come, a while ago, from a fairly large dog. The only thing we can think of is that it was the victim of the Vietnamese cuisine, which has helped me kick the meat habit for a few days.

Ryan's chin is much better, although I did come up with fun names for him like Smoky Joe! after the bandanna he used to apply ice to his swollen chin. No details are necessary for those reading, but bettering his infection required lancing the wound, and was very gross. Here's ol' Smoky himself during one of our rummy marathons.

Before he got better, I decided to go on a boat trip to the nearby islands in Nha Trang after a girl in our hotel stumbled out of the elevator upon returning and telling us that it was "hilarious"and that she was very drunk. That didn't sound all bad, so I signed up for the 'funky monkey' boat trip. This was definitely not the opportunity to mingle with the locals, though there were a lot of southeast asian tourists onboard (a thai ladyboy hairdresser, a wealthy scantily clad vietnamese couple), but was a great way to see the beautiful waters & islands of Nha Trang. The most memorable moments included a wild 20 minute 'happy hour' on the boat in which the driver clambered over everyone encouraging people to have refills of some gutrot red wine, and could not be persuaded that everyone didn't want refills. The boat crew broke out a fender guitar and a drum set made out of buckets and produced a 10 year old kid to bang on them while they sang such favorites as 'waltzing matilda', 'new york new york' and a vietnam pride song that involved handclapping in between singing 'vietnam vietnam hey!'.

Happy hour over, we were let off on an island for which we immediately had to fork over 10,000 dong (about 80 cents) to even set foot on it, "Vietnamese government!" explained our boat driver. He had used that explanation earlier when, after we jumped in the water for a swim, a guy paddled up in a boat and demanded 5,000 dong 'conservation fee' for the government.

Fellow funky monkey boatpeople and I laid on the beach (to lie on a beach chair cost 50,000 dong) and I decided to swim (hopefully at no additional cost) with a guy from New Zealand. We were only in the water about 5 minutes when we saw a speedboat quickly bearing down on us bringing in some parasailers. We got into shallow water and watched in amazement as the people in the sky crashed in the foliage and on top of a beach bungalow. Whoa. Amazingly, they weren't hurt, and the boatdriver unbelievably found some other thrillseekers to tie in for a hairraising (potentially limb-losing) ride.

I keep thinking of my own litigious society and being amazed at Vietnam. Here, anyone with a boat and desire for cash can take people high in the sky, with no responsibility should something go wrong. Similar to people that will rent a motorbike to anyone, whether they understand its gears, brakes, ignition, or not, or load their own bike about 3 feet high with goods, hoping that things don't fall off and hits people. I know our sue-happy culture has taken things too far sometimes (hot coffee in the crotch? your own damn fault, not mcdonald's), but I am thankful for feeling more safe and with protected rights in the states, without getting hit by a goat from a motorbike.

We are currently in Mui Ne, home of the only desert in Vietnam, and with beautiful red sand dunes that Ryan and I managed to catch at sunset. Beautiful and really bizarre after all the lush tropical scenery.

The government may have something against blogspot, because we haven't been able to view our blog since Ha Noi, but will hopefully be able to keep posting.

Food alchemy

Nha Trang was not high on our list for places to go, but now we've been here 6 days and don't have a plan to leave yet. A big beach, low crowds, and the first sunshine we've seen in awhile has kept us here. They also have insanely good, crusty, fresh baguettes, which doesn't hurt.

Ryan's chin is inflamed, and quite swollen. Back in August, he fell off his bike onto his face and the only thing left was his '2nd chin' of scar tissue under his mouth. Something has happened, and now he has a chin that looks like the victim of elephantiasis. We're both hoping that this doesn't cut our trip short, or that we have to be rushed to the hospital by this guy, in which case it might take about 3 hours.

At the cafe where we've discovered the perfect baguettes, we've also befriended a Quebecois gentleman who lives here with his Vietnamese wife. He rolls up on his motorcycle around 8:30am every morning and has started saying 'hello yanks!' each time. He told us that he hates the rest of Vietnam and only wants to stay in Nha Trang for the international food, the beach, and his wife. I'm fascinated by the expat scene beyond young holidayers - how do folks live abroad with such apparent luxury and no committments? We've met some jewelry designers that travel to China and SE Asia every year to source their gems, lots of older male retirees (and often with young, beautiful Asian wives, hmmmm), and a guy that runs an incense factory in Thailand. There doesn't seem to be a formula for figuring out a way to incorporate international travel and living, each person seems to find their own way.

So far our favorite meals have been the roll your own springrolls. We went to a traditional restaurant and were the only people there, with an overly attentive waitress who monitored our every move. We ordered something, which turned out to be goat (surprise!). They first served pickles, puckered little figs, leaves that looked like they had been plucked from a bush, and unripe starfruit. Gingerly eating everything, we concluded that this was the worst meal we had been served. Finally the goat was brought out, and we were taken pity on. Ah! You roll everything in the unsoaked rice paper and dip it in the sauce! The most amazing chemistry comes about when you combine all the sour, bitter, savory tastes in the roll, defying our previous judgement. Unripe starfruit is exquisite when you put it with everything else. Here's Ryan, rolling up a good one.

Suited up with no turkey

Happy t-day! We celebrated over curry and noodles with a fellow Seatte-ite on the road, followed by an icy cold beer on our balcony.

We came to Hoi An with no intention to get clothes made, but heard it was the tailoring capital of Viet Nam. Some Aussies gave us the address of a shop in the Old Town and we walked by. Quickly, the idea of suits took hold of us - I've never had one and Ryan has only had a few crappy ones. Once the shopkeepers realized that we were tempted, they wouldn't let us leave and we found ourselves fingering wool and cashmere fabrics from Italy, pinstripes from Viet Nam, and poring over design books. They hustled us around the store aggressively, measured us and sent us away in a matter of 2 hours. The shop only needed 5 hours to make these gorgeous suits, and requested we come back that evening for a fitting.

The shopkeeper got mad at Ryan for awhile because he insisted on his suit coat being taken in around his torso. She said, 'but you too skinny! look like girl!' and looked at me as if to back her up. I agreed that it made him look skinny, but told her that that's how Ryan rolled. She also got mad that he wanted his 2 shirts shortened, but again, Ryan insisted, despite the other bystanders she pulled into her side of the argument. We do look dapper though, no? Now I just need an interview...

Com hen

Trying to avoid seafood has been too hard. I love fresh seafood and Nam has it in spades. I've heard terrible reports of people getting ill from seafood in flood prone areas (which we are currently in), and yet I can't resist fresh shrimp spring rolls, fish hotpots, etc. Just the other night despite my best intentions, we walked into a streetside eatery with the intention of eating whatever looked good. The proprietor spoke no english, and myself no vietnamese, so I just pointed over to the table next to us and held up two fingers. The woman brough us two bowls of flavorful rice soup that was really briny and delicious, and about halfway into it realized it was eating com hen, rice soup with a specific variety of river mussel that is described in our book as being 'dredged up from a bank of the perfume river'. The perfume river runs through Hue and is swollen, brown, and nasty looking from the flood. There are weird things floating in it, ranging from plastic bags, styrofoam blocks, oil slicks and more, (plus all the faeces that just dissolve right into it) and immediately I lost my appetite. I was nervously awaiting the golden 12 hour rule this morning - the approximate hour that food poisoning makes itself known within your system and was rewarded with not so much as a cramp... for now.

On a side note, we've seen a crazy number of little babies peeing into the gutter. They are too young to pee themselves, but are held by grandmothers who aim them far enough from the curb so they don't soil themselves, but passers-by really have to be careful! Their trajectories are quite high and arching, you can easily be a target. How this got to be a common practice, I guess I'll just have to keep wondering.

P.S. Cort - you should come down south from Hanoi, we can go in search of weirder and weirder things to eat!

A day at the beach

Despite fears of giant reptiles, we stumbled off a terrible night bus ride from Ninh Binh to Hue this morning. It was such a long day yesterday, that I didn't have much humor left in me for what turned out to be a terrible overnight bus ride with an erect seat that didn't recline, a driver with a heavy hand for the horn, and an asian style toilet that you could smell anywhere in the bus.

The day itself proved to be a gritty, fun, and bizarre experience. We hired the guide we met the day before to drive us out to a beach for the day, which he quoted at a reasonable price. It was only on the back of his 'motobai' without any handles and a sore bum only 20 km into the journey that I found out the full length each way was 90 km. To make things more uncomfortable on an already worn through seat cushion, our driver, 'Gung?' had taken a liking to me and used the extensive journey to slowly work his way back, eventually pressing me toward the back end of the bike and eventually him. We played the name game on the way out, pointing out cows and chickens and horses, learning their vietnamese names.

I was already a nervous backseat rider as we swept around huge trucks in the face of oncoming traffic, and Gung's high pitched maniacal laugh from time to time didn't help at all. He seemed even more unstable as, during the middle of our name game, he stopped the bike in the middle of the country and pointed insistantly at a farmer ploughing the field with her cow and young son. I took a distant photo, because that usually seemed to appease him, but he dragged me out toward the field. On the quick jump off his bike I also managed to give myself a second degree burn on his red hot motobai exhaust pipe. Feeling like an idiot with my huge tourist self traipsing through someone's rice paddy and interrupting them in the middle of what looked like hard work, my leg also started throbbing. Gung pointed at the cow and gestured for me to take her plough. Like an idiot, I stood there while he took this fabulous shot...

We finally made it to Sam S'on Beach, started walking and stopped to get a cup of highly sweet coffee. Gung poked his head around the corner and with a sneer, told us that we were paying to much money. He then sat down and broodingly smoked a cigarette without speaking to us for the rest of our coffee. The rest of the day included him - no opportunity for lounging around on the beach, Gung had some plans for us. We went up to an unexciting rock formation and he took a picture of us. A peasant woman led her small pony up to us she had painted to look like a zebra and harassed us to take a photo with it. We left to go back to the beach and Gung waited to see what we were going to do. We started playing frisbee and he began in with us, shrieking and falling in the sand after tosses. It was kind of fun because it was obvious he had never played with a frisbee before. He oddly disappeared and Ryan and I took the opportunity for some beer and gin rummy. He showed up after half the restaurant had gathered around to watch our card 'skills' and was in a terrible mood, saying, 'we go... now!'

Suffice to say the way back was even less comfortable and even more stomach clenching. It just isn't right for a whole country to disobey traffic laws, AND to have enormous dump trucks swerving with the best of the motorcycle drivers. As if to drive our potential fate home, we witnessed an enormous blood spot in front of a semi on the peaceful country road from the beach to the next town, with the requisite crowd of people. I guess people are morbid the world over.

Ninh Binh

Ninh Binh was one of our favority cities yet in Vietnam. The tourist population is minimal and mostly made up of backpackers so we had plenty of people to talk to when we wanted company.

On Thursday the hotel rented us a motorbike for about six bucks, gave me a 20 second lesson on how to drive and we were off to tour a boat village and nearby cave. Most of you probably know that I'm directionally challenged and hate driving, so this was a perfect chance to scare the hell out of both Audrey and myself. We followed another couple who had paid for drivers along with their bikes and, thankfully, they went slow enough on back roads so that we could keep up. After I got the hang of it I had a lot of fun but Auds had white knuckles the entire time on the bike.



The river was beautiful and quiet and everything that Ha Long Bay wasn't.



We were able to explore the cave by ourselves, but the real highlight was these two kids (~5 and 8 year old) that we met afterward.



We saw them ask another traveller for a cigarette so we gave them one of our oranges. They dug through our backpack and, I think, made fun of us for a few minutes before we had to get back to the boat. Once back to Ninh Binh proper we had a few Bia Hois with another couple and their Vietnamese guides. The guides told us how to say cheers in Vietnamese and many many other useful things that we've already forgotten.

I've also been slightly obsessed with the water buffalo since we got here. It is so ludicrous to me that these huge beasts are completely domesticated and grazing on the side of major highways. Here is a photo of one that we saw on our walk.

Watch out for crocodiles

I've been trying to get more reliable information about the flooding down in Hue and Hoi An, and it sounds pretty bad. At least 80 people have died so far and more typhoons on the way. I was even more cheered by this news bulletin that details how rising flood waters have given the freedom stream to about 5000 crocodiles on a breeding farm. Now I will be not only freaking out about weird parasites in the flood water, but also about crocodiles drifting my way. I think we're being stubborn about pushing south - hopefully the loss of a limb won't drive that point home...

Ho Chi Minh Museum

Although I was sick on the third or fourth day we were here, Auds was able to get me out of bed to go see the Ho Chi Minh Museum. We walked by the Mausoleum which is closed "briefly" for the month of November every year. There were very large groups of very disappointed looking European tourists milling around the square in front of it. We overheard that Uncle Ho was off in Moscow, but couldn't confirm it.

The Ho Chi Minh Museum has two floors. The first has pictures of Vietnamese leaders meeting with every world leader. Some were as recent as September 29th 2007! Other than that the downstairs housed every scrap of paper that Ho ever wrote on. There were no translations so we mostly skipped the whole floor. The upstairs was a weird mix of post modern art and social realism. My head almost exploded and Audrey had to constantly calm me down. This picture is of a big sculptural piece is the struggle between the French and Vietnamese as represented by the human brain.















I have no idea why this was in there.



There was a big sculptural piece of Picaso's Guernica, and a big Volcano with african symbols all around it. There was also a huge pyramid with a big chain link on top of it and religious symbols on all sides wherein all of the women were busty and scantily clad. I have no idea why. I really just can't express how weird and random and cool this place was. Cort, if you are reading this, you should go here right now. Candice will never see you again because you will be hiding out every night and living there so that you'd never have to leave.

We've bought an open bus ticket heading South and are stopping in Ninh Binh this afternoon. After almost a week in Hanoi we're on the move again and it feels great.

My love affair with the Custard Apple...

Things have been a little insane over the last few days with me getting sick (finally better!), me getting Audrey sick, and going to Ha Long Bay for a slightly maddening tour with what felt like half the tourists in all of Viet Nam.

We'd heard that it was quite a bit cheaper to go to the coast via tour than to go it alone so we booked a two day, one night tour that was supposed to include sleeping on a boat for a night, kayaking, BBQ on the beach, etc. What we ended up getting was a night in a hotel, being herded around like cattle with hundreds of other westen tourists, and generally having no idea what we were doing. The highlights were the boat trip across the bay. The limestone jutting straight out of the water was gorgeous and it was one of the few times that our guides just left us alone.




We also toured a natural cave that was discovered in 1993, but that the Vietnamese government quickly turned into a disneyland like tourist trap. The walls were lit in "It's a Small World"-like blues, greens, pinks, and oranges but the natural beauty was allowed to show through a little.

Now we are back in Ha Noi and trying to plan our next move. There is extensive rain and flooding down south, so we aren't quite sure where to head. One of the main goals of this trip was to spend some time on the beach, but all of the beaches look to be rained upon for the month of November. We'll keep you all posted. Talk to you soon.

PS. Oh, the custard apple! It looks kind of like a green pine cone, but the insides are really squishy and filled with black seeds. Eating one is sort of like trying to sift sunflower seds through really thick pudding mixed with a little bit of heaven.

Ryan loves his pho

Ryan's always a traditionalist when he's sick. He eats soup, abstains from alcohol!!, drinks lots of oj, and watches the simpsons (don't know if that falls under the traditionalist label). But this picture is the most I've seem him smile while he's been ill, and maybe it's because pho is omnipresent. Aforementioned degenerate English teacher we met over bia hoi explained how soup first thing in the morning made his stomach churn; he wanted good ol' bangers and mash. At first I scoffed thinking how unadaptable this made ol' Foley (his first name which he explained as, "you know, like Beverly Hills Cop?"). But I do understand now after 4 days of pho.


The gastronomical nerd inside of me is still so excited to be here. At the enormous market this morning I recognized enormous sticks of fresh turmeric, sugarcane, quail's eggs, really nasty looking centipedes in some kind of slime (are these eventually cooked? I hope so), lots of fresh pig feet, betel nut and more. I feel like I'm trying to take mental notes that might make logical sense for the farmer's markets back home, but I don't think folks here play the same game. Besides, it seems like these markets are borderline illegal. This morning a big police truck drove around and ran vendors forcefully off the street. I waited around to see them pretend to pack their bags, and move 10 feet down the street to spread out again. All to the tune of Chariots of Fire which for some reason was playing at extreme decibel level over the government loudspeakers at every street corner. What a way to start your day.

Ha Noi, with wide eyes

A few days into our Vietnam trip we've adjusted to jetlag and have gotten into a bit of a rhythm. Ryan's fallen sick with a cold, which is lucky, considering that it isn't a crazy gastrointestinal ailment. He's done a better job than me of slurping up pho first thing in the morning. (Up here it sounds to my ear like "fur"). I can eat some meat, but something about huge chunks of fatty beef or pork within an hour after I wake up just doesn't work for me. Luckily, there are sticky rice vendors everywhere. Glutinous white or purple rice plopped into a banana leaf with either boiled peanuts or egg, seasoned with fish flakes and salty ground peanuts really hits the morning spot. That and the uber strong coffee with condensed milk. It ain't a vivace latte (gotta love ya for that Seattle), but is some surprisingly potent and good brew.

We woke up this morning to walk around Hoan Kiem lake in the center of Hanoi and came across the entire elderly population working out. There were energetic aerobics moves, old guys splayed across benches doing bizarre leg lifts, 80s looking joggers, badminton players everywhere (including a net set up in the median of a very busy street). The coolest was this pair of dudes that were playing badminton with their bodies and a different birdie. They were incredibly flexible! Crazy roundhouse kicks, complex hopping moves and a couple times they kicked it over the net with the sole of their shoe. Just watching them made me feel extremely uncoordinated.

The hardest thing to get used to in my opinion is bargaining for EVERYthing. We've gotten ripped off a few times (ahem, Ryan's flip-flops that cost more than a night in our hotel), but most of the time it is subtle like paying a couple 1000 dong more than folks for our morning ca phe, or double for our bia hoi (cheap cheap beer that tastes like 1/2 strength pabst). But then again, this represents about 20-50 cents, which makes you feel like you can't get too miffed. You just gotta be on your toes. And, it is hard to complain about cheap beer. Our 2nd afternoon was spent hanging out at the nearest bia hoi outlet with some degenerate English teachers where we each put away 4 bia hois in an hour and a half for about $1 total. It has taken us about an hour to upload our first set of photos and now the website is down, so we will post photos soon. Thinking about poor Seattle in the depths of winter as we hang out in a sweet 80 degrees...

Packed!

With t-minus 12 hours to go until our plane leaves, I'm finally packed! This photo represents everything that I'll have with me for the next two months.

I'll try and get Auds to post a photo of her stuff a little later. Now we've got to start cleaning up Audrey's parents house before they return this afternoon. It has been a bit of an ordeal moving everything that I own into their house, living here for a week, and then having to pack everything away into a crawlspace for the next couple of months. Back to work...

Still packing...

I'm dealing with the stress of packing and leaving in less than 8 hours by taking pictures of Ryan and drinking a barely-afternoon beer. It would be an afternoon beer except that ol' G. Bush made daylight savings time a week later. So, along with drinking an illegitimate 'morning' beer I also have this voice in the back of my head that is saying 'ooh, time change! you might miss your flight!"

We had a moment of excitement yesterday when Ryan lost my plane ticket behind a photocopy machine in a Safeway. After 15 minutes of frantic searching, pulling store clerks into the hunt and getting ready to check their security cameras, we did eventually find it, myself almost in tears. Usually hyper organized Ryan has done a few things like this lately, which freaks me out because he is supposed to be my rock and holder of important documents! Once we got over accusatory statements and had the plane ticket back in our hands, we realized we had overcome one of the first truly stressful moments of our trip. Woohoo! Here is a picture of Ryan at the Lawrence abode using the dining room table as a staging area.

But...

That's no way to start out a blog, by telling people that we probably won't use it :( Ryan, usually the optimist, has looked and seen a soup bowl half full, and replete with msg and blood bouillion. If my past travels in Thailand and reading of other traveler's blogs are any indication, internet cafes are everywhere, cheap, full of monks in saffron robes playing Halo. We'll be connected, yo.

Full Disclosure

Audrey and I have no idea how much internet access we will actually have in Vietnam and apologize in advance if we end up posting very little or not at all.

In the meantime, here is a comic by Apelad for you to enjoy.

An addendum

Of course, we aren't really sure how you say pho because we haven't been to 'nam yet. And though we had the best intentions of actually listening and practicing the vietnamese cd's that Ryan got from the library, we didn't actually do it. The most I tried was at a neighborhood pho shop to the owner who giggled and looked at me and said 'you make no sense! I no understand!" Bodes well, no? For now, you can look at this picture. More on how to say it later.

Speeding away after windmills

Hi everyone and welcome to I heart Pho. For those of you who don't know, Pho (pronounced like 'fuh') is a traditional Vietnamese noodle soup that is extremely popular on the West Coast and a staple of our diet here in Seattle. We are creating this site with the hope that you'll be able to follow our travels in Vietnam - looking at pictures and reading about our attempts to combat Malaria while sitting on the beach, drinking beer that is cheaper than water, and eating still beating cobra's hearts. Enjoy! (We sure will.)