Mikey Travels Lightly

Sum of the Sweat

crikeyitsmikey — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 16:51:00 GMT

It's been awhile since my last post here, which means plenty of time to find reasonable excuses for this reticence. I would like to say that I have intentionally put down the blog for awhile so that I will have fresh and exciting stories to share when I return, but that is not the truth. I think that my own laziness and the practical challenge of finding an affordable and working internet connection in Laos are two very reasonable excuses. Closest to the truth, though, would be to say that I haven't wanted to spend an afternoon writing in an internet cafe because I have been too busy enjoying my time in places that will be so far away very soon.

My month of bicycle riding in Laos was an experience that I cannot imagine forgetting. As with Thailand and Vietnam before, I left Laos promising myself that I would come back. Actually, I left expecting to return during this trip, just as I had when leaving Thailand and Vietnam. When I pack my bag for the last time and get on a plane headed home, I know that I will take with me the conviction that I will return.

Among my travels, Laos was an incomparable place to explore. The landscape, especially in the north, was to me an exhilarating blend of beauty and wildness. Some images of Laos will stay with me for a long time. Villages hanging on to the side of impossibly dramatic mountain roads. The houses supported on one side at the side of the road, on the other by bamboo posts reaching down sometimes 20 feet before finding a stable surface amid the vertiginous drop to the floor of a valley 1000 feet below. The sounds of the jungle at night; gibbons and smaller monkeys the only sounds I could place amid the cacophony of noises which grow louder and louder throughout the night before evaporating with the first light of dawn. Riding raggedly into and through villages with children screaming 'sabadi' (hello!), smiling with there whole bodies. Sometimes giving stinging 20mph high fives or being chased on foot or bike. I will especially remember the adults, languidly rocking in hammocks in the shade of simple houses, some bemusedly watching me, some indifferent. I found this vivid picture of contentment and simplicity in every village.

The images of contentment in simplicity, a pervasive sense of ease, are for me, my strongest impressions of life in rural Laos. The villages of Laos are usually very small and, even on a bicycle, come very often. Even the smallest are introduced with uniform signs- the English translation set below the Laos- the English name of 'Crimeless Village' often suffices for the smallest of villages. The traffic coming and going is always the same; masses of school children in white shirts and black pants or skirts on bikes and on foot, motorbikes carrying things unimaginable to those who've not been here, tractors ('The Chinese Ox') which look like little more than a boat's small outboard motor in the stores of the towns, but when finished with a wood trailer and rear axle carry large loads of workers and food. The occasional speeding logging truck tells the story of Laos' sale of it's forests to Vietnam or China.

The houses are all on stilts, the area beneath each house telling the families' story; a loom, a cement mixer or a plow suggesting what work will get done when it needs to. Much of the work done in Laos is agriculture, every village is bordered by rice fields and everybody generally works communally on a few rice paddies during the intensive and short rice season. I think that the content idleness which I saw so much of is seasonal; when the rains come again, in April or May I would expect to find everybody working. The small stores selling coca-cola, beer, rice wine, water, chips and candy were my usual stop, the usual setting for my brief interactions in the most rural life. It was probably at one of these stores that I began to suspect that many Laotians were wondering whether I am crazy or stupid, when registering looks which seemed to say 'how do these foreigners have all the money if they are stupid enough to chose to ride a bike all day and let ten buses pass by.'

One night in Laos, when staying in a bungalow in a small village bordered by rice fields to the east and a river and the jungle to the west, I woke in the last hour of night and listened to the cacophony of screams of innumerable very wild sounding animals which seemed to be coming from everywhere. After taking in the myriad sounds for a while and wondering what to expect upon opening my door, I got up and headed for the outdoor shared bathroom. Upon opening the door everything changed, and I was in my familiar world again- the animals acquiescing the last hour of night at my interruption- my intrusion immediately and quite dramatically silenced the wild and mysterious world around me but left me with a pervasive feeling of wonder. With the stillness of the mind of waking from deep sleep, walking under moonlight and rustling trees in the silence that my presence immediately conjured, I experienced with dreamlike surreality the sound of my footsteps changing the nature of the world around me; my footsteps delineating the extent to which I could enter into the world of the wild.

Inspired by some wonderful French travelers I met in Luang Prabang, I decided to practice speaking Laos and bought a dictionary and phrase book. Laos is the first place I have been in which I have earnestly tried to understand and speak the language and this was, at the time, an incomparable experience. My Laos phrasebook proved far less than useful and I never found an opportunity to practice any of the three pages regarding the practicalities of sending a telegram. Neither did I practice the obvious phrase, ''this guesthouse doesn't have an escalator.'', though there was ample opportunity. The worst aspect of learning a language from this phrase book was that you can't know what each word means, only the phrase in whole is translated. You cannot be at all creative with what you say and the content of the book is absurd. Most villages I visited had a store which sells packaged foods- chips, cookies, cans of soda, cigarettes, candy and water, motorbike mechanics were not uncommon, and restaurants were a less common and welcome sight. Nowhere among the patchwork of villages I visited did I get to ask for the ladies department or voice my discontent with the cut of a particular pair of pants.

Laos is a perfect language to learn from a dictionary. Grammatically, it is fantastically simple. You get to say things like; 'me like this', 'me like this yesterday', 'me want eat food' and 'you eat food now, no?'. There is no 'is' in Laos, it is implied. There is no future or past tense, just a single tense modified with some form of 'now', 'earlier' or 'later'. At least at the beginners level, you can just throw words together and with a little practice the very simple rules for grammar become apparent, without proper grammar you will be understood well enough. It is wonderful with a very limited vocabulary to be able to focus on remembering the words and have the license to be creative with how you put them together. I would hear new words in Laos or look up ones I was still learning by the phonetics in my dictionary and find that if was saying the word 'slow' of 'i go slow', for instance too quickly, I would instead be saying 'i go angry'. I tried to learn words that didn't sound too similar to words I would rather not say. If all that separated a useful word from an obscene one was one of the five or six tones of the language, I would abandon the word and find a synonym which wouldn't get me in trouble. There were phrases that I said often only because they were fun. My favorite being the tongue twister, 'Ni nung nyai naam' - 'this big (bottle) water'. After about five weeks of practice, I left Laos fairly proficient in the butchering of the language; a small vocabulary of words struggling to express more than their share of ideas. Some of the people that I met made my endeavors very worthwhile. Although I could communicate with many Laotians in English and express myself much more easily and accurately than in Laos, speaking in Laos opened many doors. I traded Laos and English practice with a few friends and with my constant abuse of Laos tones and phonetics, I suspect that I may have dispelled my friends' insecurity or shyness in speaking English. For me, my attempts at learning the language kept me looking for opportunities to practice with Laos people and this as well as traveling by bicycle proved to be a comfortable though sometimes challenging way to get a little outside of the bubble of the more commonly traveled routes and routines.

With more stories of Laos to bring home (on May 21st) than I've written here, I will call this submission done, eat lunch and further explore the 8th world wonder; the Angkor temples of Cambodia.

No really, tomorrow.

crikeyitsmikey — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 21:16:00 GMT

Given my last post, the obvious place to start would be: I'm still stuck. A more more accurate description of my situation would be that for about two weeks I have said, 'I am leaving tomorrow' and 'I guess this means that I'm staying one more day' at some point during each day. The thinking that has led to the first statement has been the same during the last couple of weeks; 'It feels like I should be moving on by now, I've got more things to see than time to see them. So, I am leaving tomorrow'. 'I guess this means that I'm staying one more day' has been a response or reaction to a dizzying (and even nauseating) variety of circumstance.

I enjoyed the two day boat trip to Luang Prabang from the north of Laos with a big group of people and made some good friends. The slow boat was an incomparable experience- floating lazily down the Mekong on a boat packed with tourists. In retrospect the slow boat experience seems a little like the kind of zoo where the people are contained in a bus or train and the animals are free; here all the tourists are crammed into a boat from which they can see but not touch Laotian life. From Houay Xi to Luang Prabang, the Mekong moves slowly through a landscape of jungle and mountains. There are occasional villages on the banks of the Mekong as well as isolated plots of agriculture near the river which are worked by farmers of the hill tribes who make their way from their mountain villages to the river to make use of the unique environment. The life which I saw on along the river was as free of the effects of tourism and modernity as any that I have seen. Many people and probably every child waved and smiled, but the interaction could not go much further as we wouldn't get off of the boat. The slow boats are intended to carry tourists, but as they are just about the only boats making the long trip from the north of Laos to Luang Prabang in the center, they also carry Laos people and occasionally deliver goods along the river. We stopped a couple of times to exchange cargo- we took chickens and dried grass which would become brooms and delivered bags of rice and for one very excited child, a bike. These stops only lasted minutes and ended with people hanging out of the boat and taking pictures at waving children. I posted one of these pictures here and could not have felt like more of a tourist taking it, but the children were really happy for the the attention so i went for it.

We arrived in Luang Prabang at twilight after two full days of floating on the river. For everybody this was enough time; for most too much. I was lucky to have met made friends with at least six people and enjoyed my time with the group, individuals and just watching Laos pass by. In Luang Prabang I searched for a guesthouse with my group of friends and for two weeks, I have been the only one of us still there.

After four or five days in Luang Prabang, my first intended departure was delayed because it had rained and my laundry had not been able to dry- I had planned on leaving with a couple of friends for a smaller town to the north but had to postpone it. I stayed the next couple of days with a couple i had met on the boat, went to the waterfalls and saw most of the wats (temples) of Luang Prabang. The day before the couple, Thilo and Kavita, left I was playing ukulele at the street market and met a couple of guys who were traveling by bike- Lauren from China and Devon from northern Laos. Rather than continue by bus, I was inspired to find a bike and see some of the rural life that they were raving about as I made my way south. During the next two days, I got everything together that I need for the trip together and was ready to leave the next day. That night I was waiting for Devon (who i was sharing a room with) to return with the key. Devon hopped up the stairs around eleven o'clock with a sprained ankle. Devon plans were changed at this point and so mine too. I spent the next week helping Devon get back on his feet... It took six days to find him crutches and during this time he was completely unable to walk. After finding what I believe to be the only available pair of crutches in Luang Prabang and bringing him a sandwich and a fruitshake three times daily, my conscience freed me to leave Devon and begin my bike tour. On this particular 'last day in Luang Prabang' I went swimming with a group of friends- we walked away from town along the Nam Khan river a ways before getting in and moving with the current back to the Mekong river and the heart of Luang Prabang. The journey was really fun and I am glad that I did it. The current was strong in places, though not unmanageable; it was wonderful to let the river carry us back into town and toplay with some of the groups of kids spending their afternoons in the water. This particular day was Boun Makabousa- Laos' celebration of the anniversary of the Buddha 's first teaching. This meant that for most of the day monks were drumming in the temples and during our roughly two kilometer journey, we could hear the pounding drums from at least one temple. The drumming at the temples in Luang Prabang has been very different from that which I have heard and seen elsewhere; here the rhythms seem to be spontaneous and constantly changing and the spirit of the playing seems to be that of wildness more than of meditation. I've seen novice monks furiously pounding on huge ancient drums and cymbals and though it is skillful and appears to be reverent, it really sounds like the excitement of youth; it was a nice backdrop to the afternoon and I really felt like a child.

The rivers of Laos not only irrigate crops and move people and freight, but also sewage. Of course I knew that this would be the dirtiest water I have swam in (excepting perhaps Green Lake), but this is travel and it is sometimes necessary to suspend the standards of cleanliness and safety of home. I ended up getting pretty sick to my stomach the day after my adventure in the river and for the four or five days after did little more than lay around and try to eat again. Yesterday I went to the bus station twice to catch a bus up into the mountains between here and Vang Vieng. I was 'early' each time; early being a relative term. I have learned that buses leave when they leave here- if you got on the bus, you were early, if not, you were late.

I am happy enough to still be here. After two months of travel and a month of school, it has been nice to be in one place for awhile with nothing that i have to do. Luang Prabang is certainly unique among the many places I have been on this trip. I am daily impressed by the feeling of contentment and ease of the Laotian people here and more than anything, i think that it is this feeling which has kept me here. I have been content to wander or sit here, to talk or not; each day I have been as happy to stay as to not, happy to realize when enough is enough.

I'm Stuck

crikeyitsmikey — Mon, 1 Feb 2010 20:37:00 GMT

On the 17th of January my most recent Thai visa expired and I took a bus to the Laos-Thailand border. I crossed into Laos on a small boat which took me across the Mekong river, which defines the border at the northern crossing. Entering Laos, I was immediately impressed by the ethic of the Laos people I met. In Thailand and especially Vietnam the work ethic is palpable and you can see the force of it bringing modernization everywhere. In Laos, everybody seems very happy to just let things happen as they will. You don't have to tell anybody, 'Don't worry about it'. Most people have been very relaxed and often playful. Vendors at the large night market in Luang Prabang limit their sales pitch to a smile and saying 'sabadee' (hi); this would be unimaginable in Vietnam and it makes wandering the town so much more enjoyable. Although the poverty is worse in Laos than the rest of South East Asia, the people seem to be having a great time living their lives, which seem much more similar to their parents generations than those of their neighbors. The Laos ethic is more than a little like that of Hawaii and its one that I find easy to appreciate.

I've been in Luang Prabang for most of my two and a half weeks in Laos. Luang Prabang is the second biggest city in Laos, though less than 30,000 people live here. It's a really comfortable and attractive town; French colonial architecture, great street food and a lot of food growing and children playing on the banks of the Nam Kham and Mekong rivers which border the town. The French colonial architecture and upscale restaurants and galleries remind me of Hoi An, Vietnam, another place I got a little stuck in.

I bought a bike today and will be riding to Vien Tien. I will take a local bus to avoid 50km of pushing my bike up a mountain, get off and start riding. I am really looking forward to getting out of the city, seeing the mountains, valleys, rivers and villages. I am really going to do it this time. I'm leaving tomorrow.

Slowing Down

crikeyitsmikey — Fri, 8 Jan 2010 20:04:00 GMT

I hope that everyone has had a great holiday season; although I missed family and friends and would have liked to be in at least five places other than Chiang Mai, I have been happy to be here and enjoyed a wonderful if non-traditional Christmas and New Years Eve with a fun group of classmates. On New Years Day I finished my first thai massage course here. On the 21st of December I began classes at Sunshine and although the amount of material presented each day was overwhelming at first, I had enough time to review what I had learned and also forget about it, spending time with friends from class or just relaxing. The last week of school was particularly busy; seven hours of class at Sunshine Massage School followed by four hours of private study with Yan, a fantastic teacher from Sunshine. I was in class at one of two schools from 9am to 9pm. New Years Eve was the highpoint of the week and easily the most memorable part of my very busy week.

I met most of my classmates for a wonderful Christmas dinner during the first relaxed week. We shared a table full of food- four or five kinds of curry, fried noodle dishes, three really really good cashew herb salads- more than i can remember (though i think i posted a picture of it here). I enjoyed my company that night, we shared many stories, both of travel and of the holidays at home and we shared a unique camaraderie- that of near strangers coming together to share each others' company on a day about family and traditions.

I had almost forgotten that it was new years eve by the time i walked out of Yan's private teaching space at 9 o'clock. On the sidewalk outside of the massage space were about 25 people, sitting on a bamboo mat sharing food and drinks. Most of the people were neighbors and except for one other American (from the Big Island of Hawaii!) and a Spanish couple, they were all Thai. Except for the American, the Spanish couple and myself, they were all fantastic karaoke singers. I gained further insight into the Thai work ethic, watching a seamless succession of masterful performances of Thai pop hits for an hour. After an hour attempted conversations across language barriers and more than a few stupid grins, i said goodbye and happy new year and made my way towards home.

Chiang Mai is a really old city and the oldest part and the heart of the city is a square mile marked by the remains of a very old wall and moat. I live just outside of the east gate of this wall and it was at that gate that most of Chiang Mai was celebrating the coming New Year. When I walked out of Yan's teaching space, I noticed not only the happy group of people on the sidewalk, but also hundreds of paper lanterns floating up into the night sky from the area of the east gate. I have hoped to see this in person for over a year after seeing a YouTube video of Chiang Mai's 'Festival of Lights'. The paper lanterns, known in Thailand as Khom loi, are made of rice paper and are fueled by a wildly burning candle at the base. After fighting traffic and dropping my stuff at my apartment, I walked with a crowd of people towards the Tha Phae Gate, the center of the celebration. Surprisingly, I ran into a couple of friends on the way and together we launched our own lanterns; two people holding the lantern open from the top and one person lighting the candle from beneath. When the candle was burning well we would let go of the lantern with some sort of a toast and watch the ascent. The higher the lanterns get, the colder the air gets and the faster they rise. Though all of our flights were successful, more than a few weren't. Lanterns ended up landing in the moat and getting stuck on power lines and in trees, where they would eventually erupt in flames. From the locals, I heard that releasing a lantern can represent sending a wish to the heavens and also letting go of something that you want gone. Many families would write on their lanterns before letting them fly; making certain that their wishes would be understood. Others attached firecrackers and sparklers instead. As a crowd, we would cheer when a lantern freed itself from a tree and laugh when it didn't, as the burning remains began to fall upon unaware people.

I was at the edge of a huge crowd, waiting to take a picture of the flight of one last armada of lanterns, held over heads with candles burning during the final countdown to 2010. I knew that there would be fireworks, but could not have expected what i experienced. I could feel the heat as each firework was launched less than 15 feet from me and also feel debris from the explosions and the occasional ember on my face as I watched fireworks explode right above me. These were serious fireworks- as impressive a show as i can remember seeing- and it seemed crazy for them to be blowing up right over my head. I loved it.

When the fireworks were finished people seemed to waste no time and headed for bed in sober and respectful masses out of the square and onto each street. This was totally unlike any New Years Eve of celebrations of the west.

I finished my class on new years day, giving and receiving a full body thai massage. I am really happy with the education I got at Sunshine and especially liked my two teachers, Sicha and Yan. Both of who are very well educated and natural teachers. I am looking forward to furthering my education here and would be enrolled in a second course if not for visa constraints.

My visa expired last saturday, the day after a classes ended and on that day i made a run for the burmese border. Throughout this trip I have taken pride in having avoided tour buses though saturday was an exception. On saturday pity took the place of pride when i was told that the express visa run tour busses were full and i had to wait at the chiang mai bus station for 2 1/2 hours to get on a bus. For no apparent reason, the bus 6 1/2 hours to make the 4 hour trip to the border; I wouldn't have minded at all, but i needed to be at the border before they closed, as this was the last day of my visa. The best I could say of the day was that it was an excellent opportunity to practice acceptance and patience. When the bus eventually got to the Mae Sai bus station I anxiously jumped off, took my first offer of a motorbike ride without haggling and headed straight for the border. Thailand automatically gives a 15 day visa for travellers entering the country through selected border crossings- all i needed to do was step one foot in Burma, turn around and walk back into Thailand to be legal for another 15 days. To my dismay, I was told that the border was closed at 5:00 rather than the usual 6:30 and that i would have to come back in the morning. This was hard to swallow as i watched steady streams of Thai and Burmese people continue to cross the border.

'Oh well' i thought, 'a traveler should be open to new experiences, and i've never been an illegal alien before.' Forcing a half smile, I turned around and began looking for a hotel room. I found a room... more of a bed in a box, actually, dropped my stuff there and went out to see what i could of Mai Sae by night. What I saw of the city was one street, four lanes wide, which ended at the Burmese border and was lined on both sides by concrete buildings four stories high- shops and restaurants on the ground level and living spaces above- with hundreds of vendors in an indefinite space between the buildings and street. I sat at a table at the most appealing of the restaurants ordered a large dinner and a beer and let myself become absorbed again in the book i'd been reading all day. My dinner among the best i've had in thailand, a thick green curry served in a coconut, it was really spicy which is actually rare here and full of fresh veggies and tender coconut flesh. I was sound asleep by the time i became illegal; totally exhausted by a week of long days at school and an anxious day of travel. The penalty of overstaying a visa in Thailand is 500 baht a day- about $15- as well as a permanent record of the violation which can effect future visa applications. At least i wouldn't be flogged.

In the morning I returned to the border crossing and pretty much walked right through. I was anxious to finish the process and cross back into Thailand, but also wanted to see a little bit of Burma since i had the chance. I walked around the markets for awhile and realized that 'Burma' couldn't really be found here. It was just another asian market with all the same crap for sale- fake designer clothes, fake perfume, cell phones, ipods and cheap plastic toys. I walked around the market for about half an hour and was about to end my brief journey to Burma when i met, who else, but 'Michael', a member of a minority hill tribe who had ended his Jesuit education and sold Viagra and offered short motorbike tours. After talking for about ten minutes I agreed to pay for a 4km tour. I was anxious to get back into Thailand and resolve my visa dilemma, but also wanted to take the opportunity to see at least a little of Burma and continue to talk with this strange man with wonderful english. Michael was spectacularly full of contradictions; studying at a Jesuit school in the most Buddhist country in the world and deciding that he would not like to become a priest and instead selling viagra. Michael was also the first of countless motorbike drivers I have hired who neither had a motorbike nor seemed to know how to use one. After waiting on the sidewalk for about ten minutes, a Burmese man rode up on a bike, Michael ran after it and asked me if I wanted to drive the bike. I declined- unlike Thailand, Burma is a country I could easily get flogged in- and with Michael driving we headed up to a temple on top of a hill which provided great views of the mountains and countryside on both sides of the border and in all directions.

Back at the border, my worries ended in a wonderful anti-climax. After having considered a wide variety of statements designed at keeping me off of the 'bad list' and imagining an equally wide variety of ways i could be treated, the only question I was asked was, 'can you sign this'. I only remember saying, 'yes', signing when asked and walking back into thailand grinning.

something new

crikeyitsmikey — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 22:19:00 GMT

I just had my first day of school in Chiang Mai. There are six people in my class, the same number as my class in Seattle, though there are half as many Americans this time. This class will teach some theory of Thai massage and a basic Thai massage routine. I don't imagine using the whole routine as a treatment, but hope to learn some effective techniques to integrate. This class is a prerequisite for classes that will more directly address what i am looking to learn here and a necessary introduction to a methodology of bodywork which is totally different from the western clinical methods I have learned. I really enjoy pretending that i am an elephant walking upon a humans' body and think its wonderful that Thais do too. I have read that a mature orangutan is capable of ripping a limb off of a human- i wonder if maybe there is a traction technique relevant to this astonishing factoid.

I've been travelling for a little over six weeks now and it is beginning to feel much more natural. I don't think much of squating over toilets or the BYOTP ethic anymore. I am more prepared than ever to grin at my own stupidity- which is saying something- but i've had more practice than ever. I now buy my food from places with chairs only because i am willing to pay to sit down, not because i believe that the food will taste better or be more sanitary. I react to honking as i do to sneezing- i ignore it unless i am directly in the line of fire.

I am proud to say that i still haven't eaten at McDonalds and that i now avoid bars (excepting those with good live music) and tourist restaraunts. Yesterday I was caught in a torrential rain, the like of which i have only ever seen in the tropics and could not have imagined even after 20 years in Seattle. In less then a minute i was absolutely drenched and I ducked into the first place i could stay a while, which was a bar with a rock and roll band. I sat down and listened to a Thai bassist and guitarist (and their electronic drum machine) crank out the hits of acts as diverse as Muddy Waters, Santana and Counting Crows. Though i only stayed until the rain stopped, i decided: this is a bar with good music!.

I find it astonishing how singing eliminates the problems of botched nuances of inflection and pronunciation of a foreign language. This Thai rockstar sang totally comprehensable english- he was able to sound just like a black man from the 30's AND THEN a modern californian white guy- he also sang what sounded to me like perfect spanish. He would say something like, 'hunqx lijkuyt banmbedrdy, gritiv radger' before starting another song, 'She came in through the bathroom window!' in the voice of John Lennon. Astonishing that I don't understand a single word this man says, then appreciate his mimicry of the subtle nuances of such a range of western pop singers.

It makes me think that maybe while i forsake the western bars i should take up karaoke with the locals. I am really happy not to go out drinking these days, though, and i should keep it up. I haven't had more than a beer or two a night, if that, for a few weeks now. Maybe i'm growing up.... it used to be a terrible thought, but i guess that i see that, for me, maturity can involve picking and choosing. As it turns out, the wonder and openness of kids that i cherish isn't actually about drinking. If i have it my way, i won't stop living like a child. Rather, I'll harbor the (quiet) voice of a wise parent. If i have it my way, i will live like less of an idiot and every bit as much of a child.

For better or worse, I haven't found much nightlife in Chiang Mai (or Asia for that matter) outside of the bars and outdoor markets. There are more than a few decent bookstores and a couple of jazz venues for which i am thankful.

The days here are sublime. I've eaten a different curry every afternoon for the past five days. I ride my scooter up Chiang Mai's mountain- Doi Suthep- quite often. There are a bunch of really great places to stop on the winding road to the top. There are parks with trails which follow a(depending on rainfall and location) stream/river/waterfall . There are a few viewpoints which look over Chiang Mai, there is an old temple (which i've already written about here) and an old palace. Best of all, there is fresh air. At night, I work on my newest pursuit, ukulele covers of the hits of Motown.

I realize both that ukulele was not the intended accompaniment to songs like 'Sittin on the Dock of the Bay' or 'A Natural Woman' and that my voice is a different instrument than that of Aretha or Otis Redding. It definately sounds a little wrong but its really fun to work on this music and strangely, i think that it may help me to fit into my community at Veerachai Court.

My community is a population of retirees and more often than not, their prostitutes. There are some married couples, but most residents are single men- though that may be an assumption, i can say that they are men who do not travel with their wedding rings or partners should they have them. These men fill the five tables which front the lobby, each table speaking a different language. Veerachai Court is located in an alley between two nice streets in Chaing Mai- there are restaraunts, cafes, markets, galleries, bookstores, jewellers and a variety of craft shops at either side- but the alley is another world. My neighbors don't travel 3000 miles for Thai culture- the alley is home to cheeseburgers, cheap beer, a laudrymat and small dark rooms that offer what for reasons of legality is called 'massage'. My neighbors don't leave the alley.

I don't want to sound too judgemental. I am sure that many have lived lives harder than i can imagine, and they really seem comfortable, if not overjoyed by their circumstance.

I now wear sunglasses in and out of Veerachai- mostly because i want to be able to really look at these people- they interest me. They share so much- it really is a community. They seem to have been brought together in their search of the same comforts- cheap food and beer and the (possibly illusory) feeling of being loved. Nobody clears the tables they sit at and i can watch the empty cans and bottles accumulate throughout the day; though many of these men drink for most of the day, they do so slowly. They may pay for companionship, but more often than not the women seem to get long term contracts.... In a funny way the illusion of love that these men pay for brings them together. There lives appear self-destructive and, of course, the sex trade cannot be harmless, but i'm glad that they have each other.

I understand i may appear to them to be the crazy one. I am the one who travelled 3000 miles to sing (badly), 'You make me feel like a natural woman', alone and often.

Even still, a hundred bucks a month for an apartment with a big bed, patio, hot shower and HBO is a really great deal.

From Monkey Town to the Top of the Hill

crikeyitsmikey — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 16:55:00 GMT

For the week prior to last monday I had been travelling with a women whom i met at the Lopburi (monkey town) train station. Thereza is a Czech citizen living in London. She had been working as a graphic artist and designer there for three years before taking a one year vacation. Much of Thereza's work was for fashion magazines- Elle and crap like that. Can anyone reading this imagine me spending like 100 consecutive hours (minus separate bed time) with a cultured fashionista? Perhaps owing to her previous nine months of travel, we havesomething in common- we are both really cheap at present.

The two of us rented bicycles on Sunday. They were identical vintage looking Raleighs- to me, an essential part of the picture of the suburbs and nuclear families of the 50's. The bell and the basket help to complete this picture, but i myself ruin it- mostly on account of my long hair, stupid grin and the inevitable gangle factor. The bike actually seemed to fit Thereza, both aesthetically and physically. The price worked for both of us anyways- something like 90 cents each for a days riding.

As every tourist to Asia must so often do, we set off to see the Wats (temples) of the surrounding area. First we rode out of the walled city of Chiang Mai, across the 'river' and along the college campus to a dirt road leading to Wat Umong. Wat Umong was recommended by some fellow tourists due to its 'creepy fasting Buddha'. At this complex of temples in the woods, there was indeed a sculpture of a fasting buddha- it was somewhat stylized, but remarkably true to what images i have seen of starvation- as well as a series of artificial caves for meditations and a network of paths through the forest where trees were decorated with various truisms. We left Wat Umong and decided to try to visit the one Wat that looked really really great.

We couldn't see this Wat, really, except as a white speck which appeared and reappeared through the clouds on top of the highest mountain visible. Really really great idea. As luck or fate would have it, we came upon a row of taxis offering rides to Wat Doi Suthep. It would be stupid to rent two bicycles for a day only to lock them at the bottom of a beautifully forested mountain for 3 hours- on this we agreed. Thereza bargained and i grinned- it would work so well. The taxis hear are sometimes- as these were- small trucks with vaulted canopies and two benches facing each other. In time, Thereza succeeded in getting us and our bikes a decent one-way fare to the top.

There were two thai men in the back of the truck with us on the way up, one (unnecessarily) hanging outside of the truck, both grinning at us every so often as continued to climb and curve up a narrow mountain road for what seemed a very long time. Thereza and I had time to consider and reconsider the prudence of our decision. We said things like, 'i don't see anybody else riding back down on bicycles.', 'my travelers insurance information is written in the back of my green book' and 'i wonder if these brake pads are combustible'. At the top, seeing no proper bicycle parking, we nonchalantly left our cruisers locked up with the motorbikes.

The view from Doi Suthep could be incredible. You could see forever if not for the haze of pollution hanging over Chiang Mai and the entire valley below. We were able to recognize the small old walled city of Chiang Mai and so see approximately where we started.

The grounds of Doi Suthep were really memorable. To get to the temples you walk up over 300 stairs. At the top of the stairs you find a sea of abandoned shoes, add your shoes to the chaos and buy a ticket. Like Doi Suthep, most of the temples of northern Thailand have been really bright and vividly painted. Adding to the impression of the shining gold, orange and reds is the tropical environment- vibrant flowers, vast green trees and blue skies. At this temple, children lined up to play with a huge ancient looking bell and every Buddhist lit incense.

Around the walls of the compound, separated by statues of the buddha were murals depicting his life, from birth to enlightenment. I walked around the whole courtyard, looking at each of the paintings, trying to make sense of what each one represented or just appreciating it anyways. I didn't see one other person notice them. Most were getting their pictures taken in front of statues or a gigantic stupa which was covered in gold.

With a little over an hour and a half to return our bicycles and retrieve my passport from the little dot that was the walled city, we decided it was time to get moving. We gave a mutual pep talk, which was join by a thai man with almost no english as we unlocked our bikes. This man checked that both of our bikes had functioning brakes and returned my gesture of 'downhill on bike' with a thumbs up and a grin. With that we were off.

It was actually surprisingly easy on the way down. The lane we shared with all downhill traffic was too narrow to allow for passing, which was my only serious worry. I was really happy to find the Thai drivers, in general, to be much more sane and respectful then their Vietnamese neighbors. They waited to pass until it was safe and doing so gave us plenty of room. Thereza and I took a few breaks on the way down- some wonderful time away from holding onto the brakes for dear life. With no dysfunction worse than hand cramps, our descent was over and we continued through Chiang Mai, returning our bikes within minutes of closing time, and getting every Bahts worth.

I didn't really intend for this to be an essay on our descent, but its time for me to eat and so that is just about what it is. That and this: monkey town (Lopburi) is in my opinion the home to the cutest thieving sexual predators of the primate family, and i suggest it as a wonderful place to visit... never to live.

12-12 Chiang Mai, Thailand

crikeyitsmikey — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 18:21:00 GMT

I am finally in Chiang Mai one of my few planned destinations on this trip, certainly i have been most looking forward to. I've planned on studying asia massage methods here for at least a year.

It was a strange feeling, sitting on a bus, nearing Chiang Mai and wondering what 'home' would be like. I have never intended to move somewhere I have not been. Chiang Mai strikes me as much larger and more modern than I had expected.

The weather is wonderful here- blue skies, a nice breeze and a more gentle heat than the south. I arrived yesterday and have already noticed the seasonal expatriots moving in. Talk of the weather here has been talk of relativity- how dismal Irish, English and Northwestern winters can be. Browsing the pictures on my camera yesterday, i was reminded of the fall in seattle- a series of pictures with Josie in the park, with a background of fallen leaves- I hesitate to agree with the assertion that fall and winter are 'dismal'. From this distance, i can easily call a winter in seattle quite pleasant.

I've spent about a week making my way north to Chiang Mai from Bankok. I arrived in Bangkok the night of the fourth and checked in to the first cheap room i could find around 11:00. I spent two nights in Bangkok- enough time to get my laundry done and see a couple of temples during the day. I particularly enjoyed Wat Pho, a walled site of temples and pavillions about the size of a city block. Wat Pho is home to a 45 meter reclining Buddha- of the approxiamately 10,348 Buddhas that i have seen in SE Asia, this was one of the most memorable. The memory is about the experience of being there more than the visual aesthetics or size. Slowly walking the length of the Buddha, i admired the murals which decorate the walls of the temple and the size of Buddha, which took up most of a very large temple. In consideration of the hords of tourist photographers my walk might have resembled the prostrations of a monk- bowing below lenses every few steps. My most vivid and unique memory of the experience was the sound which filled the hall- something like the babble of a stream rendered into metallic clinks. After rounding the Buddhas feet and on my way out of the temple along the back of the Buddha, i saw what the sound was- a row of maybe a hundred metal jars, into which a line of visitors steadily dropped coins. As well as the numerous temples and a grade school, Wat Pho is home to the oldest and most esteemed thai massage school. I was hoping to get a look at the school (as well as a massage), but due to the King's birthday celebration, massages were not available. I will return at some point, I would like to take at least one course there, at the very least i will get a massage.

Thai's seriously love their king. My two days in Bangkok were a constant celebration of the guy. I enjoyed a fair, a parade, fireworks, dancing and singing in his honor. A great majority of Thais wore pink shirts for during those two days- as i understand it, the color pink is auspicious during the kings birthweek and should help him to have good luck and health. He has been sick recently and so there could hardly have been more pink. I have realized that I am regretably ignorant of much Thai history, I knew of clashes between the military and the monarchy, but have just recently learned that the Thai King does not in fact live in Thailand. Neither did i know that he has a glass eye, carries a Nikon SLR camera on all foreign visits and plays jazz trumpet- good to know.

In contrast to the temples and good will of the thai people, the tourist sector of Kaosan road was disgusting. Although i avoided the primary sex tourism district of Bangkok the majority of western men were accompanied by prostitutes. I left Bangkok with the intention of returning, but i can say that i am forever done with Kaosan road. In general, i think that the large cities are the worst place to get acclimated to a new culture.

I left Bankok on my second morning in Thailand and travelled by train to Ayutthaya and the remains of an ancient Thai civilization. The train was a fantastic experience. A third class train is an adventure sport. Boarding the train, i couldn't believe how many people there were. There was room for my backpack above the seats, but seemingly no room for me. At each stop of the 2 1/2 hour trip, at least one more person boarded than left. As we rolled out of the bangkok train station a frantic woman carrying a tray with cups of juice and soda in ice push her way through the aisle, past me, through two thais standing on the stairs and jumped out of the car where she gracefully slowed from a run to a walk- i didn't see her spill a drop. You can't imagine this kind of chaos without seeing it, i can't see it without grinning. I started the trip in the entry of our car, between two cars really and as people came and went, i somewhat intentionally moved towards the open doorway to the outside. After an hour i was there, and leaning over an old man who sat on the steps, I could see 180 degrees- in front of and behind the train.

I will end abruptly here. As too often happens, i have had computer problems and lost a bunch of writing. It is time for me to meet a friend and i need another bottle of water.

goodbye vietnam

crikeyitsmikey — Fri, 4 Dec 2009 16:32:00 GMT

Today is the last day of my 30 day Vietnamese visa, my bag is packed and i am flying to Bangkok in a few hours. I have loved this month in Vietnam, though a month seems hardly enough time to get to know such a foreign and diverse place.

My last entry in this journal was from Hue, about two weeks ago. I have made some wonderful friends and seen some amazing places in that time- many memories and stories to share in the future, i think. I can't possibly write it all now.

I left off last with the intention of visiting Tu Kieu Pagoda and temple, the 'alma mater' of one of my favorite people, Thich Nhat Hahn. My time at Tu Kieu- that whole day of adventure, actually- was wonderful. I rented a bike in the morning and set off on a 6 km ride to the temple. On my way (very slowly and on a rediculously small bike) a woman on a motorbike invited me to follow her to her house for tea and a tour of some local tombs. I liked this woman, and though i was sure it would end with a request for money, i followed her to her house. The ride was scenic and memorable- 14 km of 'just a little farther'- her on a motorbike keeping the conversation alive, and me on my endearingly rediculous bicycle. Eventually i got to stop and enjoy some tea with this woman, meet her youngest son and catch a ride on her motorbike to the tombs. As the old imperial capital, Hue is home to a few old imperial tombs. This woman took me to Ming Mang tombs and waited outside for me. Ming Mang is probably about 150 years old, though it looks ancient. It is actually a collection of buildings with a variety of purposes. If i remember correctly, the emperor built it as his final resting place- a pagoda, temple and tomb built within a pine forest, and sitting on a lake- then decided that he should enjoy it a little while alive, built a house for his concubines and used it as a retreat. It was serene and beautiful with just the right amount of disrepair. I left Ming Mang very happy to have take the offer to see it and readied myself for the inevitable request for payment and long ride back towards Tu Kieu.

At Tu Kieu, I payed some local woman to guard my bicycle and began my walking tour of the grounds (wondering how likely it was that my locked bicycle would be stolen from a locked temple in the middle of the woods). I was pointed in the direction of a few building of interest by one of the woman merchants and found a large collection of bonsai trees within a courtyard bordered by temples and monks quarters. After wandering slowly around the courtyard, I made my way out and into what turned out to be a kind of a souvenier shop. I looked through the shop for a few minutes, with the lights turned off, until i was found by a dog who sounded the alarm. A monk soon came, turned on the lights and we talked. I wish i could remember his name. I ended up talking with this particular monk for the rest of the afternoon. We walked around the grounds, ate a meal, practiced english/ vietnamese and then- played soccer! I was really surprised to find a group of novice monks barefoot and robed playing soccer with their lay neighbors. During our walks we had missed the soccer field which lay between the ancient cemetary and the lotus ponds! You know you can't play soccer when 12 year buddhist monks beat you. I was glad when i turned towards the sideline and saw a monk ready to trade positions. Smiling and waving, i walked back towards my bike, enjoying the humanity of life in this place- a place devoted to furthering understanding and peace but not so aesthetic as to lose what is human. In fact, I returned for a couple of hours the next day and during a conversation another monk offered to buy my Ipod!

I spent a couple of more days in Hue, mostly in the company of a canadian and a belgian couple, riding motorbikes around city and crossing the tourist traps off of my list. It was in Hue that i discovered that you can rent a motorbike for $2 and just follow the tour busses to the out of the way places rather than being stuck on the actual bus.

From Hue I flew to Hanoi, found out that i had just missed seeing Ho Chi Minhs' embalmed body (which is headed to russia for a little touch up) and so moved on to Halong Bay.

I spent the last week in Halong Bay- a truly wonderful place. The first two days i was on my first and possibly last tour- the next five in a hotel on Cat Ba Island. The tour sounded nice- a night on a boat, a night on a private island, caving and kayaking- it turned out to be an alcoholic retreat/ training ground. A boat full of 20 somethings mostly oblivious to the supreme natural beauty around them.

Caving may never be a good idea for me... the last time i attempted it, was in Hawaii with my brother and sister in law, where three flashlights failed- the highlight of which was tears of fear turning to tears of relief.

More on that from Thailand- i've got a taxi coming momentarily.

Hue

crikeyitsmikey — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 20:06:00 GMT

I just got into Hue today (that rhymes in case you didn't know). Its raining here and i expect that to continue- todays motorbike driver laughed at my hope of sun- its the rainy season. There seems to be a lot to see around Hue. I am most excited about a nearby pagoda which my on of my favorite Buddhist writers entered as a novice monk. It looks to be a beautiful place, sitting on a lake and surrounded by pine trees.

The food seems to be getting better as i make my way north- the weather colder and wetter.

Not knowing where you are seems to me to be among the best and worst aspects of travel. After walking towards what i thought was the city center for a while this afternoon i gave into one of the many motorbike solicitations. On the way back from dinner i had to check my map about 12 times. Vietnamese street names are not always marked and when they are they are easy to confuse. i almost prefer my compass to a map. The map which my hotel gave to me is drawn by hand and strangely does not name the street of the hotel- theres a dot instead. i thought that was funny.

i had a personal triumph in hoi an- finding the cheapest beaded trinket i could find, haggling the price then cutting it apart and using one of the beads to secure an ukulele string which had pulled through the bridge. my uke is as good as new. i may be the only one who cares about that, but i really do.

Gallery: the pictures

crikeyitsmikey — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:15:00 GMT

Hoi An

crikeyitsmikey — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:15:00 GMT

i've totally lost track of dates and times. i don't have a watch- i can check my ipod or cellphone if need be- i mostly needn't. i don't really know how long i've been in hoi an, either four or five nights, i think. it is 9pm friday, november 20th, i have two weeks left on my vietnamese visa and i am paying closer attention to the date.

i've spent more time than i intended in hoi an and enjoying it greatly. hoi an is a smallish town which is overrun by tourists and the tailors caterring to them. it is amazing how many tailors there are. most shops house tailors- those that don't sell art or food to those who are waiting for their fittings. within the tourist core, hoi an feels very insulated, westerners seem to outnumber the locals and what is authentic to central vietnam and hoi an can be found because it can be sold. can lau (a style of noodles particular to hoi an), ban xeo (shrimp filled fried rice pancakes) and the 150+ year old 'old town' are thriving because they are supported by us tourists. it is good to see that there is some authentic traditional culture here, sad that it doesn't seem to extend beyond a page of lonely planet highlights.

the most memorable and certainly the most surprising experiences i've had in hoi an were my walks outside of the old town and tourist center. all of the temples, pagodas, stores and markets seem to be contained in the small tourist sector- beyond that people live. i was really amazed to see the quality of life of many of these people. there are many 'shanty' like houses- with corrugated steel or found materials for walls and roofs, but unlike saigon and and delta, these were not at all the norm. i a preponderance of nicely designed and constructed homes- all pretty new. i have also seen far fewer children selling souveniers or wandering during the day- many more children in school uniforms.

in hoi an i've seen both sides of tourism- we seem to have taken over their downtown and much of the 'old town', but in exchange it appears that many families are enjoying a really decent quality of life.

Hoi An has been, by far, my most comfortable stop in vietnam. i would recommend a much broader set than the parts of the south that i have seen- there is the romantic quality of a sleepy town on the river, the people are very warm, the food is fantastic and the tailors will make your fashionista magazine dreams spring to life for barely the cost of the fabric.

Tomorrow i will make my way to Hue via Danang. I will take either a bus or a motorbike to Danang- its been raining for days, and it may be time for me to get on one of the airconditioned tourist busses that i have loved to hate. From Danang, I will take what is supposed to be an amazing train ride to the old imperial capital of Hue. I think that it will be my first time on a real train.... but first i've got to send home all the clothes the tailors sold me...

HAAAAA and AHHHHH

crikeyitsmikey — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 01:08:00 GMT

I am now back in Saigon for better or worse. I took about five days to explore the Mekong Delta- four of those on the back of a motorbike with Cuong (pronounced 'kung', approximately). It feels like a lifetime since I left Saigon. Returning, i find it strangely comfortable.

My time with Cuong was incomparable and memorable, to say the least. We rode 70 to 150 kilometers a day, stopping for many ca phe da's (vietnamese iced coffee), photo opportunities, lunches and the like- all welcome respites of what Cuong referred to as 'numb bum'. Experiencing the Mekong Delta with a local on a motorbike encompassed everything I have ever known in travel- basically, wonder and fear. A fairly constant, 'let go, it is what it is'. I was in control as much as i wanted to be but that was and is as little as possible.

Cuong was fairly constantly asking, 'you happy?' and i invariably responded in the affirmative in one way or another. I felt like i was joining Cuong as a friend on this adventure except for that question and the occasional related comment or action which made him seem more my servant than friend. I would have been more comfortable and perhaps happier if his comfort and happiness was not relative to mine; i am pretty uncomfortable being in a position of power. Of course, i did hire him... i consider us both fortunate that i (and so he)was happy throughout most of the trip.

I don't imagine that Cuong would have altered the style of the trip much if he had been alone or with a friend; i am happy to have had what felt like an authenticly local motorbike adventure through the delta.

Relative to the population, there may be more coffee shops along the highways of vietnams rural south than in seattle. In a strange way i could feel at home. Each coffee place is of course independent in the delta, but they strangely common. We would pull off of the highway and roll into the place (i am still unsure what to call these coffee stops) and stop the bike just steps from shaded hammocks and tables. With my fairly large backpack strapped to the bike, and my smaller backpack (with passport, camera and other valuables) as a pillow, I would sink into a hammock and wait to place my order. Being that we did this at least three times a day, up to maybe six, my language skills here are best demonstrated in the ordering of coffee. I can order it, say thank you and say that it looks great.... I can also say that i am american- which i did every time. This is what you call a positive feedback cycle- now that i can communicate something, i am far more like to do it- the more i do it, the better i get- the better i get, the more i do it... and on and on. Guess what i'm drinking right now? Ca phe da!!! Chuc ngon ming!!!! Ha.

Cuong has a good understanding of when stops are required and the numerous coffee stops were a perfect break. We had a host of other stops, daily vietnamese roadside bbq lunches, lotus ponds, bonsai gardens, scenic photo stops and a stork garden to name a few. The stork garden was perhaps the most memorable break. About twenty years ago a family of storks landed near Long Xuyen and today there are thousands of the birds with a wonderful habitat. Like most of the delta, the land is flat and wet- the birds have plenty to eat and no natural preditors... or so i thought. On my way up a staircase to a viewing area, Cuong asked if i wanted lunch here, 'sure' i said, and continued up. I was sooo happy to find some canadians at the top of the stairs- a rare chance to speak english comfortably. After a while Cuong brought me down and we sat down to a nice looking bbq'd STORK. I tried to share my sense of how this was funny with Cuong, 'see stork (pointing up to the trees), eat stork (pointing to the plate).' Stork meat is reasonably tasty, i guess, though the organs certainly aren't. All in all i would prefer to eat uglier birds. I guess thats a cultural thing.

We stayed in a very simple hotel our first night, in Ben Tre a small town just across the Mekong river and a very new bridge from the larger My Tho. In retrospect, a lot changed when we crossed the Mekong- up until a few months ago, the majority of tourists visiting the delta would only go as far as My Lo rather than continue with a 3km ferry ride. Things are much slower and smaller- less touristy on the west side of the Mekong, in my opinion. After showering at our hotel, visiting the local market (which aside from the stacks of warm meat pretty well resembled the sunday market of hilo hawaii), and stopping twice for ca phe da, we drove back towards the Mekong, through another smaller market, through very narrow alleyways and right up to a dock, where we embarked on a very memorable boat trip.

Hearing that the trip would be a '4 hour tour' was a good sign, i thought. A three hour tour would have set off some alarm bells... We began our trip on a 20ft motor boat with a captain and a smiling lady who as far as i could tell, was our cook. On the first leg of our trip we motored quite slowly downstream, headed for a smaller row boat, which would take us up a small canal. Our boat was slow if noisy but i immediately began to get a sense of the peace and ease of the river. The Mekong is enormously long and wide. Along with its hundreds or thousands of tributaries, it seems to have perfectly flattened all of the delta and in no hurry.

Up the canal, which was cut through swampy coconut forest, we arrived at a sort of tourist bee farm. Doning the traditional conical hat, i sat down to tea, fruit and of course honey. After i politely declined buying a jar of honey i was encoured to wrap a rather large snake around my head... which i did. I saw a couple of bee hives another much larger snake and many plants which i recognized from hawaii and we moved on.

Back aboard our motor boat, we set off for a second canal. I still don't know what our destination there was- within a minute of starting up the motor boat, i knew that something was wrong- the motor was knockig and slowing down. Not far from shore the motor completely died and Cuong and our captain disappeared to fix things up. In the interest of saving my guides the embarassment of leading a failing tour and my own relaxation, i played dumb and enjoyed the quiet for a few minutes. While docked, water had entered the engine and with a little time and much yelling it was fixed. The most enjoyed part of that whole ordeal was when i was attempting to push our boat away from trees and the shoreline as the boat floating without control downstream.

The next stop was depressing- a temple on an island which was now home to a variety of caged animals. I was happy to cut that leg short and move on to a wonderful shrimp bbq on the boat. With a contained fire burning on the bow of our boat and embers flying everywhere, we made our way to the center of the river and tied up to a tree to watch the sunset and cook dinner. It was wonderful to feel the languid motion the river and eat in silence while the sun descended into the Mekong.

After dinner, with darkenss appoaching and the risk of abandoning a burning boat diminishing, we headed back to the west side of the river. Our captain maneuvered our boat very nearly into a tree and kept us there. Within maybe a minute, the tree lit up in hundreds of points of light and suprised and amazed i watched fireflies for the first time. At this point, with the captain at the back of the boat taking orders from Cuong and our smiling lady friend, we rounded up as many fireflies as we could grab. I really wasn't sure how i felt about bottling the fireflies, but unable to communicate my hesitation i totally went for... rather successfully as i can reach at least 18 inches farther than your average vietnamese. I took a few pictures of the fireflies in the bottle- the one advantage of having contained them, i guess- and we headed home.

After another shower, Cuong suggested that we go out again, this time for a short scenic ride. Though i was exhausted i was also beginning to fully trust his judgement and we hopped back on the bike. Crossing the river again we rode through the tourist strip of My Lo before pulling off onto a rode which followed a branch of the mekong. This road was very busy at night and lined with local restaraunts and cafes. Just up the road we stopped to see a fountain which was right in the middle of the river on both sides of which were park benches and everybody, it seemed, from My Lo. The fountain had vertical jets lit with slowly changing colors as well as dynamic jets which shot water in the arches of a cranes' wings and wonderfully evoked the grace and peace of a large crane flying just above the river. This, i am sure was the point of our ride and i'm glad i didn't miss it.

I was quite lucky to get experience a couple of homestays in the delta. We stayed with a good friend of Cuongs on the second night, in Can Tho and with his parents in Chau Doc, the next night. Can Tho is a larger town stretched across two sides of a river with a lively tourist industry and wonderful 'floating market'. We stayed with Cuongs friend Han who ferries tourists through the market on his boat and lives with an extended family in a simple house with a dock for the boat right on the river. We were joined by Han's neighbor Du- the three friends were really excited about there reunion. I felt great to have been the catalyst for the reunion- it felt good for everybody- i was paying Cuong as a guide and Han for food and lodging. For their part, Han and Du were extremely welcoming and seemed really happy to have me there. We all ate rice soup with fish on a tiled patio over the river and drank rice wine... for about four hours. Our bottle of rice wine was refilled twice and rice, vegetables and ice were continually added to the soup, which simmered for hours on a propane burner. After about an hour of eating drinking and talking (through an interpreter in the case of Du), Han and Du declared that i have a very good nature! We had a really wonderful time and when my communication slowed down (the three friends had much to talk about and Cuongs' english is fairly limited) i brought out my ukulele and played music as they talked laughed and smiled. Much later, after a failed attempt to find an open karaoke bar in the maze of alleys which is Hans' neighborhood, we called it a night. Cuong and I slept under a mosquito net atop a bamboo mat on the same patio where we had eaten.

We awoke- actually i was awaken- before sunrise and set off for the floating market. Early in the morning, the river there fills with hundreds of boats selling every food you could think of. We enjoyed our usually ca phe da as well as pineapple and a local style of noodle soup. You just throw a vender a rope to tie up to and exchange money for food. Passing the multistoried tourist boats on our way back home, i felt so thankful to be able to experience for a day a more authentic version of life on the river.

After again thanking Han and his family, Cuong and I worked our way through the alleys and onto the highway towards his parents home in Chau Doc. I was really excited about Chau Doc- it seems atypical of the delta region. Whereas the delta is flat, Chau Doc borders Cambodia and is hilly with a neighboring mountain. The culture is quite veried as well, with khmer, chinese, indian and vietnamese influences. Unfortunately, I started to develop a fever within an hour of Chau Doc and didn't feel any better after a nap at a coffee stop. I didn't eat much that night, toured a temple, and briefly met Cuong's family then went to sleep after taking an antibiotic and panadol from my pharmacy within a bag. The night was not fun- my fever rose for a few hours than disappeared and i slept. In the morning i let Cuong know that i was going to cut our tour short- we had planned to explore Chau Doc for a couple of days- and move on to Phu Quoc island. Before we left for the bus station, Cuongs mother appeared with a newborn baby girl- less than a day old and truly beautiful. Cuong had surprised his parents with our visit, but we got our own surprise!

Phu Quoc was a three hour bus ride and two hour ferry ride away, which i wasn't looking forward to, but it is also home to a regional airport making it my quickest way back to saigon and decent doctors if i so required.

I was squeezed in the middle of a local bus- 150km in three hours- and spoke most of the vietnamese i know... for about 1 minute. I ended up showing the people next to me a bunch of pictures on my camera and pointing at things out the window.

I made it to Phu Quoc in the middle of the afternoon and immediately fell in love. It was wonderfully reminesent of hawaii- pristine beaches, similar vegetation, mountains, slow drivers and good natured people. I rented a pretty nice bungalow near the beach, showered, watched the sunset and went back to sleep.

The next morning i didn't feel great- the antibiotics were helping and panadol controlling my fever, but i wanted assurance that i had not contracted malaria.... for which i was exhibiting the beginning symptoms.

To make a long story short- i got on the wait list for a flight at the airport, made a few friends while waiting and left phu quoc after less the 24 hours.... the bright side: the doctor pretty much laughed at my fear of malaria.

Yesterday I spent yet another day in Saigon which has begun to feel like home. I went back to the War Remnants Museum- probably the one place every visitor of saigon should see. After a couple of hours of looking at the horrors of war, i left feeling numb. I wanted to communicate this feel if only through eye contact. I felt like crying and screaming.

At the bottom of the stairs as you leave the museum sit a tank, a fighter plane and some large guns. I was as horrified outside of the museum as inside, seeing people mimic the American and Viet Cong fighters with the tools of mechanized death as props- shooting or getting shot- and laughing.

Today was a great day to leave Saigon. I am at a quiet and comfortable hotel in Hoi An and very happy to be here. I am planning on getting some tailored clothes and relaxing for a few days. I feel owed some time for ukulele on the beach and i intend to make that right.... right now.

The next step

crikeyitsmikey — Mon, 9 Nov 2009 15:38:00 GMT

Saigon has been a little overwhelming and in each of the last three days i promised myself that i would leave on the next. Today I was convinced by my motorbike driver/guide to try a four day tour of the Mekong delta. Mr Cuong is from the delta, speaks passable english and most importantly, seems to be a safe driver. From the reviews that he showed me and the itinerary he suggested, i feel like it will be wonderful. Next stop: Ben Tre.

Today i toured the Cu Chi tunnels with Cuong. These tunnels were used by the Viet Cong in the war with the french and later in the 'american' war. My strongest impression there was amazement at the resourcefullness of the people, who won the war using not much more than what was discarded by the americans and republicans. I was surprised to find a gun range there. Not so surprised but certainly saddened to see people posing as soldiers- making the site seem like an amusement park. It was nice to be on the tour with Cuong on the back of a motorbike rather than packed on a bus with everyone else. After the tour Cuong took me to a place for lunch where no bus would stop. It is inevitable that everybody asks me where i am from- i guess i don't exactly fit in... after seeing the craters made by B-52s and feeling the horrors of war i wasn't thrilled to say that i am american.

Cuong mentioned Obama a few times before and during the tour. A reminder that foreign policy can change, i guess. Cu Chi may not be his most enjoyable tour.

Its time for me to get ready for my next step. A four day tour of the delta then on to the sandy beaches of Phu Quoc Island.

Saigon fishing

crikeyitsmikey — Sun, 8 Nov 2009 17:40:00 GMT

I really wanted to title this 'saigon fishing', though doesn't really mean anything... I am planning on seeing a water puppet show tonight... thats kind of like fishing, right? Oh, and i ate seafood last night, of course i didn't catch it.

I am very happy to be writing on this trip; mostly on paper which is a little easier than finding a computer. I am having trouble remembering what i've experienced in the last day- making writing both practical and enjoyable. I have been meeting some great people here, mostly westerners. I have talked with a vietnamese woman, Thuy, at the coffee shop where i am writing this the last couple of days. I may try to practice my oh so humble vietnamese with her later. It takes courage. I also met a great motorbike driver today, on my way to the history museum. I have hired Mr Cuong for the day tomorrow, for a tour of the Cu Chi tunnels just outside of Saigon. Does anybody know how many Dong a 6 hour tour should cost?

Last night at a cafe i ended up talking to a guy from the big island of hawaii, about my age and a group of ex-pats he was with. I have seen a few 'ugly americans' in my few days here and find it disgraceful to say the least- i feel like a lot of ex-pats feel that way about me. Ugly until proven innocent. It was great to get some aloha, as well as the opportunity to experience saigon a little beneath the surface. I went to an art opening with this particular group of people and really enjoyed it. As tara told me- i am apparently in a cultured place. Nice to be among the artsy, uncomfortable to be smelling fartsy. As i am sure you can imagine, i was not nearly as presentable as the wonderfully stylish people i met, and i had only taken two showers... The art was enjoyable, i especially liked a series of photographs by a local woman. They felt voyeuristic- people sleeping in every place and position possible, children playing with anything found etc. They were photos i would love to take but would not be comfortable taking. I need a spy cam.

I did get to take pictures at the History Museum today, for an extra 32,000 VND. This museum was my favorite yet- a glance at 3000 years of life and art in what is now vietnam. More religious statues than anything else, also some interest carved political edicts and tools. The religious culture of vietnam has seemed to me to be an wonderful blend of distinct schools of buddhism, daoism, confucianism, native animism and hinduism. Lotsa isms.

The biggest ism must be capitalism. This is my first experience travelling in a socialist republic and i've only been here a few days but... i am confident that marx would not approve.

The tropics seem to be a wonderful place to get to experience culture. As it is always 90 degrees everydoor is always open. You can see so much of what keeps this city of 4 million moving as you walk down the street. Imagine seeing engines rebuilt on the sidewalk; families and friends crowded together, eating in a still open t-shirt shop.... and on and on and on.

Its time for me to go and get another look at the war remnants museum- maybe time to get a watch (many museums and popular sights close for a couple of hours mid-day).

I almost forgot probably the most memorable thing that happened lately- definately the best story- after spending a couple of days in a nicer hotel i moved to a cheaper place. My room is on the 6th floor and pretty basic. I was walking up to check out the room and was told to leave my big backpack at the bottom. As i walked up the 6 flights of stairs, my backpack followed, being hoisted by a winch. On the 6th floor as i started to grab my bag, something went wrong and yelling in horror watched my backpack fall back down all 6 stories and crash into a pile of luggage at the bottom.

Everything was fine in the end; another guests broken vase was replaced and i was able to fix a broken buckle on my backpack myself. A young woman at the hotel was probably relieved of her bag loading duties though i am sure that she gained some knowledge of the stress tolerance of your average buckle.

though horrible at the time, its strangely delightful in retrospect- nobody was hurt right?

36 hours in Saigon

crikeyitsmikey — Sat, 7 Nov 2009 11:10:00 GMT

After 24 hours of traveling I have been quite happy to be on the ground. My flights went well 19 hours of flying was much easier than expected. I met a vietnamese man on the flight from seattle to seoul, which was a fortunate introduction to bridging communication barriers. Tuan has lived in oregon for 15 years and is visiting family in Saigon. I may get together with him tonight.

I have heard Saigon referred to as an organized chaos and completely agree with this definition. A city of 4.5 million; there may be 5 million motorbikes. I now know that i am safe crossing the street and at times find it amusing... but my belief that i am safe does not stop the release of adrenaline when i curl my toes or clutch my hands together to avoid the onslaught. I feel mildly sick- noise, smells, the desperate need of so many people, jet lag, carbon monoxide, heat and humidity are among the causes. I am sure it will pass. I cannot drink enough water.

Drinking coffee is an adventure, if you have a window seat: 110 cc motorbikes carrying- 1)about 30 gallons of vegitable oil in 5 gallon containers 2)twelve to fifteen 4x10foot pieces of drywall and a bundle of metal shielding for wiring 3)a family of five 4) a golden retriever- paws on handlebars, the could go on forever.

I walked all day yesterday, watching everything. Everything is for sale... i guess thats communism for you... I say no before i know what i am being offered. I say no constantly. I just remembered my dads method- speak hawaiian. The vietnamese-english language barrier does not dissuade anybody. I said yes to some great pho (rice noodle soup)yesterday for breakfast, Bill Clinton had eaten there, oddly enough. I have enjoyed everything i have eaten so far.

I plan on slowing down today and wandering through museums. I will ride more motorbikes today. I will pay no more than 15,000VND. I will not make the blisters on my feet any worse.

Thank you to Dr. Brandy Web for instilling in me a perfectly rational fear of nematodes and helminths, and the knowledge that lesions on the feet are a common port of entry for a variety of parasites. 90 degrees ought not be sock weather. :)