Graduated, Gone, Garbage

An Update

willpeach — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 02:38:00 GMT

For those who still come here to read my stories, I'm still exploring the world. Now in Spain I blog at MySpanishAdventure.com. I also run the blogs DontFlyGo.com, Groovetraveler.com, Travelinksites.com, HotelsandMotels.org and TravelSexLife.com. Come check out my work.

Musings on Home

willpeach — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 21:24:00 GMT

Having a history is nice. But it’s only now that I appreciate the footings of my forefathers.

Being here in Vietnam, a million miles away from the culture to which I am used, all that’s left is a certain amount of shell shock. Shell shock surfacing as disdain.

Previous entries here pay testament to that. It’s always the absurd, the irritating and the downright alien that I pick holes in. But is it fair? Probably not – but this is beside the point.

What I wish to convey is that I’m no longer ashamed. I miss home. There I said it. It’s a comforting feeling having roots. I am known by my family and the city in which I was born, they are in turn defined by me - it’s a continuing cycle that has run and will run for a time yet.

And you know what? It’s a pretty good cycle as well. Or, maybe just being ‘known’ somewhere is good. Either way I can’t quite define it.

Times of Hostility

willpeach — Fri, 3 Apr 2009 01:51:00 GMT

Vietnam is readjusting to an influx of foreigners. In 2007 the country saw 3.6 million overseas visitors enter the country, a 3.7% increase on the previous year. And with scores of English teachers and businessmen relocating here every year, these numbers show no sign of letting up. But one question remains. Are locals extending a warm welcome to every new face?

Recent arrivals certainly feel so. English backpacker Alex Dorey, who has been in Saigon five days, is commendable of his treatment. “I’ve had a great time here the past couple of days, the locals have treated me very well and I’m enjoying it” he says. Newly-arrived English teacher Ryan Davis positions himself similarly. “I felt welcome from the very moment I arrived” he adds. Such a hospitable reputation bodes Vietnam well, foretelling a future that is seemingly bright. But is it reality? Or just the opinion of two white faces?

For a certain minority of visitors Vietnam is growing only in hostility rather than warmth.

A Different Story

“We’re being treated savagely” says Aaron Ewedafe, a 24-year-old Nigerian footballer and native of the Nigerian capital Lagos, hanging out on the corner of Pham Ngu Lao. Aaron is here drinking with friends, enjoying an evening away from the brutality of a hard days training. “The locals look at us with disgust” he adds while swigging the remnants of his VND5,000 beer.

What a professional footballer is doing drinking beer is beside the point, for Aaron it is an act of escapism, a chance to forget just how difficult the life of a Nigerian in Vietnam can be. “It’s tough, my friends can’t ever come and see me” he says.

In February of this year the Government of Vietnam embarked on a serious crackdown on Nigerians following a wave of anti-social and criminal activities reportedly being perpetrated by Nigerian immigrants. Later that month the Government placed a blanket ban on all Nigerian visitors attempting to enter the country. “The government is being very unfair. We can’t set up businesses, find accommodation, we can’t do anything” Aaron and his friends say. But their cries remain dubious. Is there truly no smoke without fire?

Accusations In late February, according to a Ministry of Foreign Affairs official in Nigerian’s second biggest city Abuja, the Vietnamese authorities met with the Nigerian Ambassador in Hanoi to protest over what they consider the unbecoming attitude of Nigerians. According to the official, Vietnamese authorities also announced plans to deport scores of Nigerians already in detention over a diverse range of criminal acts.

What the ‘con me le’s’ (as the Vietnamese call them) have apparently been up to range from petty to very serious crimes. Among reports of robbery, identity fraud and black bank note scams are far more serious crimes that involve allegations of drug pedaling, prostitution, sexual assault and more.

The Vietnamese media has been no stranger to reporting these issues. English language newspaper Thanh Nhien claimed to have uncovered a Nigerian-run sex-ring promising to make women happy in exchange for money in late January, while the Vietnamese press has circulated regular reports of Nigerian scams on Vietnamese locals.

“When people publicize these things in the media they forget” says Soloman Lar, a Nigerian accountant living in Phu My Hung. “The media is tarnishing the reputation of Nigerians, and we are facing greater hostility from the Vietnamese people”.

How Times Have Changed

For long-term residents this rise in hostility can be traced backward. “Politically, socially and otherwise I have noticed a lot of changes in Vietnam since coming here in 2006. When I first came Vietnam was still developing with lots of foreigners searching for jobs and the Vietnamese were very accommodating and friendly” says Lar.

But the reasons why Nigerians have relocated to a country that is so far removed, both culturally and geographically, to their West African home remains largely ominous. Lar tells me he wound up here by coincidence missing a flight to Malaysia, while another businessman, Somuadina Emmanuel, told me he was invited by a friend. To the Vietnamese such reasoning may also appear unconvincing and only fuel the level of antagonism.

For most, it appears, it is the promise of jobs that is the cause for uproot, with most realizing upon arrival that their options are in fact severely limited. Lagos based newspaper ThisDay, sought to hold Nigerians back by referring to Vietnam earlier this year as a “supposed economic Eldorado” where there are “hardly any rewarding jobs”.

But as the number of Nigerians continues to swell in the downtown areas, such warnings seem to have come too late. According to Aaron most of these men hanging around the backpacker area were once footballers tempted to Vietnam by managers in 2006/07 only to be dumped for Brazilian players and released from their contracts. “What these men do now I don’t know” he says.

To the media and the Vietnamese authorities however, the answer to this question is obvious. These Nigerians are now unemployed and dabbling in crime.

An Apology......Of Sorts

willpeach — Wed, 1 Apr 2009 03:31:00 GMT

I confess my negligence is tantamount to heinous crime. I can’t take it any longer. For those of you expecting the usual dose of scathing prose that appears here I apologise.

The truth is apathy breeds laziness. It appears the sole commentator of my ramblings is a misunderstanding Vietnamese. With that who can forgive me for keeping updates infrequent?

But dear diary…news just in. Helga S is puking her intestines out in the bathroom as I write. After a long and weary night drinking the gastric juices are now well and truly pouring. Poor old cleaners, they just spent the weekend mopping the piss stained rim of the toilet bowl and now they have to deal with this -artifacts of a Lepub dinner regurgitated for mass amusement.

As for a previous article I have made omissions. The Vietnamese are also unhealthily obsessed with Titanic, some even purporting to have seen it over twenty times. Quite what this does to a person remains to be seen, but the warblings of Celine Dion make me want to neuter myself.

Oh and when they’re not creaming their little panties over Tintin, watch out for them rubbing the billboard poster of James Cameron’s nautical epic deep into their gashes.

Over n’ out.

It's a SLOWlife afterall

willpeach — Sat, 7 Mar 2009 23:19:00 GMT

Is it that much of a SLOWLIFE? I’m in Nha Trang on assignment. Yes I’m staying in five-star luxury, in a room fit for Napoleon, but I’m feeling more like dynamite than dynasty.

Having spent a day discovering just how the Six Senses Ana Mandara resort has seized on its company philosophy (or repackaged marketing ploy) of S.L.O.W.L.I.F.E (Sustainable, Local, Organic, Wholesome, Learning, Inspiring, Fun, Exciting), I’m beginning to beg: “slow the fuck down”.

Having arrived in style after a 6.05am departure from HCMC after a 16-hour weekend of screaming at kids, I was expecting a gentle day relaxing on the beach or by the pool. Denied a sleeping space until 12.30pm, I was shown the breakfast buffet. That was OK by me, until being confronted by the mumbling Geordie and pontificating Frenchman that called themselves hotel management. “We’ve arranged an all day tour for you now and tomorrow you will wake at 5am to catch the local market in full swing”. Five in the morning? Come again?

The all day tour was like dying slowly from a testicular aneurysm. I found interesting the noodle, conical hat, mat and rice paper making – what I didn’t savour was how our tour guide took on the role of the psychopath from the film Seven forcing me to stuff my face at the lunchtime buffet. Nor did I enjoy his insistence that I try chon – weasel-regurgitated coffee.

Having got through that I’m now off to… yep, you guessed it - eat again. If my gut explodes before I return please return my lower intestine to the postmark below:

Xuan,

Please Don’t Take Offense

Vietnam,

Forever

Things that time - but not Vietnam - forgot

willpeach — Sun, 1 Mar 2009 16:31:00 GMT

Vietnam, that aching wound of a country, saps in the rot and garbage from elsewhere. Here those very things that outgrew their novelty back home live on in a second life of endearment and idolization. It’s like an early 90s school disco you’re doomed never to forget – where all the boys wear shades and the girls get wet to the sound of Cotton Eye Joe. I’m just waiting for John Fashanu and The Wolf from Gladiators to come out of the woodwork and warm up the bloodthirsty crowds. Here they are - the top five unforgivable sins of this nation.

1. Backstreet Boys, Boyzone, Take That and more

- The radio and stereo systems of the country are clearly stuck in a transistor-like time warp unable to shift away from the suicide enticing sounds of 90’s pop. Forget what John Lennon said, here the Backstreet Boys are bigger than Jesus. Revealing a taste in them is also cool. What the fuck is this - a parallel universe? Ronan Keating can slurp up my entrails from the nearest abattoir.

2. Mr Bean

- Mr Bean is at the pinnacle of slapstick humour, which is just about the most these straight edged people can handle. Forget inward looking, sardonic comedy – these guys want the cheap thrills variety, the kind where Mr Bean talks to a teddy and enters it at Crufts. They dig that shit like its Chris Morris boundary pushing fare.

3. Tin Tin

- Tin Tin in Saigon, Tin Tin and Snowy on holiday in Hanoi, Tin Tin takes on the Khmer Rouge – what the hell? Tin Tin plasters everything: badges, T-shirts, posters, billboards – get your Tin Tin tampons everyone! There’s no end to his marketability. The Vietnamese are going to cream their pants when they finally get their hands on the upcoming Spielberg film, even if Bill Elliot is made to look like a Pixar man.

4. Phlegm

- There are strictly no taboo’s when it comes to orifice leakage above the neck in Vietnam. Noodles and pork lumps fly out of chomping mouths, ears are pounded on to squeeze out water and the sinus is raped and pillaged for all the catarrh it holds. Churning up a fat one is the norm; do on your bike, at home, in a restaurant, at the pool, anywhere. Just make sure there are at least thirty people in earshot of that grinding nasal whine. That’s the way to do it – real sly. Girls too.

Goodies!

willpeach — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 11:10:00 GMT

Got myself Adobe Creative Suite 4 for a dollar. It’s on my computer now. The joys of piracy and living in a country whose economy depends on it.

It’s a right stroppy little piece of software. The install menu rudely reminds you to switch down all computer tasks and go make a tea while you wait. It also berates your system for its laughable weakness. The cheeky little bugger.

I’m now painstakingly learning InDesign, Photoshop and the like. Haven’t even attempted Illustrator yet. I got myself a nice little book down at the Communist store – this one an import, definitely not pirated. It tells you where to stick your mouse and what not, how to press buttons on keyboards etc. It’s downright insulting if you ask me. I should be preparing for teaching tomorrow, instead I’m fiddling around with little pointless projects.

Fool am I.

Tuk-tuking Quack-quacking

willpeach — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 18:10:00 GMT

He cackles incessantly with dark beady eyes. The thin black tufts of hair on his chin shine in tainted spittle. His long pinkie talon jabs menacingly deep grooves into a newly acquired map.

“I’ll take you to the temples” he promises. “Just meet me here tomorrow, I’ll take you, show you how great Cambodia once was, seventy dollars for a two day trip”. He’s a devil in disguise, and what am I but a naïve little angel hanging onto his every word?

His name is Munny meaning ‘smart’. He’s a cool customer, a Khmer possessing sharp English and an even sharper ride. His crumbling Honda is forged to a quaint little carriage, complete with a soft cottoned seat and wooden decked floor. He spent his whole life savings on it and boy isn’t he proud.

“My ride - best in whole of Seam Reap” he informs. “Gives you view of Angkor like no other”. But while Angkor is certainly spectacular, it is for Munny which most of my awe is reserved. How can a man with so much mischief in his eyes be trusted for a second, even be held responsible for a life? Soon he would be put to the test.

He buries his beer cans under the carriage bench and with a hazy glare kick starts his motor. First stop Preah Khan, a crumbled ruin of Jayavarman II, great God-deity of Ancient Angkor and prolific temple builder. As Munny weaves his way perilously between lorry tanker and shambling pedestrian the Angkor beers gurgle restlessly in his belly. A loud burp is emitted and more toxic fumes fill the air.

By now I should be taking in the calming blue waters of Angkor Wat’s 190m wide gargantuan moat. By now I should be witnessing young Khmer boy’s splashing around the luscious green riverbanks and laughing idly in the stifling midday heat. But with Munny the picture is different.

He jabs a crusty finger in the direction of a baking sandstone causeway where reams of captivated bodies shuffle onward into the tractor beam of three lotus bud towers. “Want me to look after your bag?” he so kindly offers. “Not yet, onward to Preah Khan” I utter meekly from the back.

The road alongside Angkor Wat is deeply unkind. Munny makes it intolerable. Its pothole city alright and I’ve got myself the world’s drunkest driver. With a thud Munny careens into a small crater and into the path of an oncoming bus filled with Japanese tourists. Somehow with tremendous effort he wrestles the wheels away from oncoming disaster.

Responsible travel anyone? Carbon emissions seem gravely unimportant against the dangerous depravities of a human wrecking ball cum tour guide.

Gallery: Phucking About in Phnom Penh

willpeach — Sat, 10 Jan 2009 01:41:00 GMT

Hun Sen is a dangerous man

Gallery: Candid Cambodia

willpeach — Sat, 10 Jan 2009 01:19:00 GMT

Making SE Asia worth it!

Gallery: Vung Tau

willpeach — Sun, 4 Jan 2009 02:11:00 GMT

Teach at the beach or so they say!

Nothing Raises More Jubilation

willpeach — Sun, 4 Jan 2009 01:58:00 GMT

Nothing raises more jubilation than a hard fought victory. The conservative attitudes of the Vietnamese nation were thrown out the window last night following their dramatic victory over Thailand in the AFF Suzuki Cup. What followed were scenes of insanity. Traffic stopped and nationals clustered together bottlenecking all the roads downtown.

I happened to be standing in the backpacker area at the edge of District 1. After watching Vietnam’s 90^th minute equalizer go in on the TV in a restaurant little could I expect the drama that unfolded. The table service went up shit creek, with several platters of unordered meat lain in front of me. The staff literally went berserk pressing each other’s heads to their sweaty bosoms. Guests were forgotten about for a short period whilst quite understandably they savored the greatest sporting moment in the country’s history.

Having been unable to beat Thailand for fifty years, their victory and crowning as champions brought sheer ecstasy to millions of people. Foreigners even got in on the action, bedecking themselves with red flags, headbands and t-shirts and jumping up and down in the arms of their new adopted nation. The chaos endured late into the night with revelers speeding around on motorbikes sounding horns, waving flags and spraying water everywhere.

Kevin Keegan once commented on England’s legendary 4-1 victory over the Netherlands in Euro 96’ ‘anyone watching who fell asleep before half time must think they’ve died and gone to heaven’. Such words could never have been more fitting for the occasion. Deep in the midst of the salty air and red tinged night, unaware foreigners arrived with bags and cases fearing a Communist uprising. With people clambering on cars, banging metal pots and pans and breaking into spontaneous dancing, the scene looked more surreal than threatening. Victory is sweet indeed.

Vung Tau Kapow!

willpeach — Thu, 1 Jan 2009 02:11:00 GMT

New Years Eve; no countdown no fireworks. Kind of how I like it. Vung Tau’s two stretches of dirty beach remained serene in the new hours of 2009. No-one was around, not even the big hairy rats stirred. It was low key.

Vung Tau is a popular beach resort 80km from Ho Chi Minh City. It couples seaside scenery with sprawling modern hotels all kitted out to take the hordes of weekenders dragging their weary selves from the 9-5 week of Saigon. It has a few expat centered Western style restaurants, but other than that amenities certainly are lacking. The best amenity of all, however is the strange people this place unearths.

“Good town Vietnam!” A sprightly Russian sailor kept muttering in my ear soon after purchasing a few Saigon red beers. In this town it seems only a handful want to see in 2009, two English tourists and Lenin’s number 1 fan.

Ready to go to bed after a few large Tigers gurgling in my belly and the tired exhaustions of a heated exchange between lovers, it is only fitting I bump into such a fellow. “Where you from?” he asks as I stumble past him avoiding his steely cold war gaze. His bright orange Nike jumpsuit has don’t talk to me written all over it but its 2009 and in the silent moonlight I somehow have to feel it. All the Vietnamese have gone to bed, and only the bia-hoi’s remain open. The night is quiet apart from a faint trickle of motorbike traffic along the wide coastal road. It’s this man’s company or a night that could feel like any other; toothpicks at dawn and grating voices. “Happy new year” he says in a rough Baltic accent and offers to buy us a drink.

So there we are; a merry three enjoying the wild first night of 2009. Conversation stutters along and eventually turns to politics. The man makes a repeated gesture to illustrate his Nostradamus like quality to predict the downfall of America in 2012. “tschhhhhhhhhh” he says while bringing down his outstretched hand. “America 2012 tschhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”. Quite an insight from the tangerine tsar.

That’s all it is in Vung Tau though. A few bars, a number of restaurants, two stretches of dirty beach. A pleasant sea breeze masks the smell of barbecues and roasted flesh. The temperature is soothing, rather than the mugginess of Saigon and a walk along the marble paved seafront is pleasant enough. But one and half hours hydrofoil’s trip later it’s not somewhere I’ll be missing tremendously.

Do They Know It's Christmas Time at Home?

willpeach — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 22:34:00 GMT

Yes, I think they do. But do you know it’s also Christmas time here in South East Asia, a largely non-Christian region? It’s bloody hot, sweaty and sunny. No snow falls here, and the only Father Christmas I have seen is very thin and has Asian eyes.

Not to worry though as Christmas has finally arrived big time. Most places have got up trees, flashy lights and wreaths. I even have an advent calendar for the first time in years. On the 25^th itself? I’ll be at the Temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Eating turkey? I think not. Firstly, I’m a vegetarian; secondly the only thing I’ll be chowing down on is some slippery noodles.

Downtown Saigon has really got caught up in the festivities. Outside the malls there are busy grotto’s, Cinderalla chariots (what this quite has to do with Christmas is beyond me) and Santa’s little helpers. I’ll be thinking about everyone back home though and just remember a dog is for life not just for Christmas.

Time To Be Alive!

willpeach — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 19:40:00 GMT

I know this blog has been somewhat fixated on motorcycles as of late – but what a fantastic time to be alive! December in Saigon and the weather is remarkably beautiful. Cruising around with my shiny white ILA helmet is simply heaven. On my bike I’m meandering and weaving in and around the millions of citizens and it’s as if I’m moving along heavens own highways.

3 months in and it’s been hard, frustrating and tiring – but hasn’t it gone fast? It’s days like today when I suddenly realize it’s all worth it as I’m zooming past giant billboards and the streams of people eating and drinking on the edge of the road. Wind is cooling my face and my hand on the throttle is the only thing that occupies my mind. Joyous.

There’s no end to my elation. I can’t help chattering in broken Vietnamese to every person I meet. A quick thank you for stopping at my floor in the elevator, an eloquent ‘thank you very much' to the cookie lady, everyone appears beautiful and warm to me and in my mind there’s just no ugliness in the world. Moments like this come rarely. When they come, they sure do hit.

Gallery: Missy Miscellaneous

willpeach — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 19:13:00 GMT

Life is suprisingly good sometimes

The Key is Covering Up My Dear...

willpeach — Tue, 9 Dec 2008 21:55:00 GMT

There is a trend in Vietnam. Largely followed to a tee by the nation’s hordes of young bike owning women. The trend in question? Covering up.

Vietnamese girls seem to go to extreme lengths to escape Mr Evil UV Ray. Hats, scarves, gloves reaching to the elbow, hoodies. Its 30C most days, it seems a tad insane. A bit of Nivea Sun would do the trick wouldn’t it girls?

Truth be told I feel sorry for them. As a Caucasian myself, albeit one that suffers in epidermal measures, I feel lucky. Apparently white is in. It’s a bit difficult to comprehend with a global history of white supremacy and oppression seemingly drawing to a close. I’ve heard of India’s aesthetic obsession with whiteness and purity, even Beyonce angered people with her apparent whiteness in some modeling shots a while back. I didn’t know it had permeated to Vietnam.

Not only is there societal pressure on girls to look white, but it there is also this idea that appearance is everything. Men can appear as slovenly and grotesque as they want in this country. Gender roles seem indeed both rigid and unfair.

Gallery: Don't Petrol Bomb Us

willpeach — Mon, 8 Dec 2008 14:33:00 GMT

Our Home

What Kind of Motorcyclist Are You?

willpeach — Sun, 7 Dec 2008 14:27:00 GMT

Take the test now!

1. You want to hire a motorbike. You look around and scout out your options. Do you…

a) Rent a lowly old manual from your local bia hoi?

b) Rent a more upscale tidy automatic from the backpacker area?

c) Get a Vietnamese friend to help you acquire a brand new Harley to rip the streets up with?

2. You get your little baby on the road for the first time. Do you…

a) Weave in and out of traffic, ride in bicycle lanes and careen down one way streets?

b) Take it slow and steady at the right hand side of the road?

c) Crank up the throttle, push the engine to the limit and skirt around all other riders leaving them trailing in your dust?

3. You reach a red light where lots of traffic is forming a bottleneck. Do you…

a) Stare intently at all the faces around you as you have become a white spectacle in an otherwise bronzed crowd?

b) Slowly come to a stop, sit and bide your time staring patiently ahead?

c) What red light?

4. You are late for work; you reach your apartment buildings garage and have forgotten your helmet. Do you…

a) Get on a xe-om and shout an address in bad Vietnamese?

b) Patiently return to your room in the elevator to fetch it?

c) Throw caution to the wind and feel that dirty polluted air accumulate on your scalp?

5. You are riding along and get a load of grit in your eyes. Do you….

a) Grin and bear it whilst swerving incessantly in and out of startled families?

b) Stop as soon as you can and get yourself a face mask and protection goggles?

c) Have the coolest pair of aviators on in case of such problems arising?

6. You notice that you are low on fuel but must get to work as soon as possible. Do you?

a) Run your bike into the ground seeking the help of a smiling serviceman to tow you calmly to the next gas station?

b) Stop calmly at the next filling station and tell work you are going to be late?

c) Get your reserve tank out from the side and promptly fill up?

Answers

Mostly A’s: You are either naïve or stupid. You haven’t been in Vietnam long but have seen whities riding about and thought it looked damn cool. You can’t drive at home because you have an alcohol problem.

Mostly B’s: You are probably a woman.

Mostly C’s: You think you’re a Hells Angel but really you’re a bit of a twat.

New House New House

willpeach — Sat, 6 Dec 2008 17:33:00 GMT

Don’t petrol bomb us. We’ve moved and doesn’t out guesthouse hate it? Every bloody day I get a call telling me I have outstanding payments. What cheek! They raised my rent each week without telling me. Some Vietnamese are slimy bastards I’ll tell you that.

Also, don’t give out your phone number like the pope gives out sermons. The result of such naivety will be the odd midnight phone call or a strange text wanting you, their new best friend, to come meet them in some obscure location.

Anyway the house. Well its quite nice if a little bare. Our landlord is some old doddery fella who played piano. He can’t speak a word of English either which is quite innervating as we have to go via our landlord to get anything done, i.e. know how to get mail, use a washing machine, comb our hair etc. The buildings pretty cool though, its juts out of the Saigon District 5 skyline like a jack in the box. A big pink skyscraper. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, a washing room and a big bare space where some massive shrine used to sit all neat and snug against a wall.

A balcony outside gives a good view of the surrounding sprawl with a decent view of a little pagoda. Look down to the ground of the building and there’s a fountain complete with elder resident’s power walking around it in circuits. The mugs. Security are pretty resilient and equally grim to boot. Miserable dudes won’t indulge my mumbling Vietnamese practice sessions that I spring upon them.