15.08.03

Another day, another country.  We are now in the Socialist Republic of Vietnam.  We arrived via Phnom Pehn, Cambodia through the Cam Doc border.  The ride from Phnom Pehn to the border took over 5 hours on a road of mud and potholes (craters, really), in a bus that trickled stale AC. We were all sweating, glued to our vinyl seats.  As a matter of fact, I haven’t really stopped sweating on this trip.  It is hot and humid every day.  33-34degrees Celsius.  Everything stops for 2-3 hours each day (including busineses) for lunch/snooze/heat relief.

We arrived in Saigon (official Communist name: Ho Chi Minh City) yesterday afternoon at about 5pm.  We left Cambodia at 7am.  We had to wait before leaving, stopped once, then went through a lengthy customs process coming into Vietnam.  About an hour and a half, with the Canadian tourists being handled last, incubated to see if SARS would appear, I think.  I coughed most of the time during our wait, and nobody approached me.  We were finally greeted by a new bus and guide at the border.  He passed on a few tips for getting by in Vietnam:

- always bargain prices (about 30%)
- beware of riding motorcycles (about 15,000 Vietnamese travel to the next world on motorcycles each year)
- Ho Chi Mihn City is only called that in the north.  Locals still refer to their home as Saigon.
- Don’t believe what you read in your guidebook.  Make your own way around (easy for him to say)
- Hanoi is expensive and less friendly than Saigon (of course;)
- Halong Bay is beautiful
- The freshest food comes from street vendors

There was an enormous difference crossing the border from Cambodia.  Much less poverty.  No famished children greeting us en masse.  A comfortable, air-conditioned bus, smooth highways, ….  In the city, the contrast is even more apparent.  Vietnam is moving on from the war, proud and victorious.  Cambodia still looked shell-shocked.  Of course things didn’t settle down there until the 1990s, and Pol Pot’s only been dead 5 years, and America was never made to pay for their crimes, ….  Justice has yet to come to Kampuchea.  Still, Angkor Wat is a testament to the hard endurance and strong spirit of the Cambodian people.

Vietnam is our final stop.  15 days remain.  Tomorrow we’re doing a tour of the Mekong Delta.  Today we walked ourselves around District 1 of the city.  We saw Notre Dame Cathedral—Notre Dame de Saigon—and Unification “Palace” which more closely resembled a dated office building.

History of modern Vietnam in 3-4 lines

The French colonized Vietnam from the mid 19th century until 1954.  Ho Chi Minh liberated Vietnam from the Colonial yoke, and renamed Nostrodom, Liberation Palace.  In the 1960s, the US planted an anti-Communist leader in Saigon and started attacking the VietCong in the North.  The war went on brutally for 10 years until the VC stormed “Liberation Palace” in 1975 renaming it Unification Palace, officially ending the Vietnam War (at which point US troops pulled out of SE Asia, leading to the advance of the Khmer Rouge and subsequent genocide in Cambodia).

We also visited the War Remnants Museum.  Stats on who the Allied Forces were, not much about the VC, the weapons used (in great and glorious macho detail including full measurements, firing capacity, yadayada), some gruesome photos of the effects the war had on soldiers and civilians.  Interesting and well-presented but a bit intense so soon after visiting Tuol Sleng in Cambodia.

It has just started raining torrentially.  It has done this off and on since we first came on the trip.  Still freaks me out a little to hear it come down like that.  I have never heard rain like this.  Maybe the roof of our hotel is made of tin.  God, sometimes I just miss Canadian weather.  Never thought I’d say that.

Luckily we had dinner inside tonight.  We ordered rice, grilled chicken and fried tofu from a street stand.  Otherwise we’d be out there in this.  Our building is solid enough, though.  We occupy the penthouse suite of Havy Hotel.  The staff parks their motorbikes in the lobby.  There are 4 beds in the room, made of solid dark wood.
 

15.08.03

I learned much the day we toured ourselves on a walk through Saigon.  So much war on this trip:  the Japanese in Kanchanaburi, the U.S. in Cambodia and Vietnam, French colonialism, civil war, genocide.  We went through the War Remnants Museum quickly because we’d reached our saturation point with the topic of war.

So onto shopping… we discovered silk, CDs, prints, so many affordable shops.  We bought our air tix to Hanoi and finally back to Bangkok on credit card to free up extra money for shopping.  Our mentality is that we’re going to end up buying these things in Japan anyway so we might as well give the money where it’s more needed.  So shop we will.  So far, in Vietnam, we’ve bought: a backpack, an aosdai for me, silk scarves for souvenirs, 14 CDs (copies) 2 DVDs (also copies) and a watercolour print of a woman in Aosdai.
 

15.08.06

We were surprised that Hanoi’s Old Quarter was so busy.  There seems to be more cars and motorbikes here than in Saigon.  Arriving at the airport was somewhat harried.  It was 36degrees, we had no room booked.  We were instantly approached by taxi drivers offering us deals.  We ended up taking a minibus in to the city for $2USD each.  The driver brought us to a hotel in the Old Quarter (most popular area for foreigners).  We weren’t pleased with the room, though.  It was small, near the lobby and windowless.  The carpet was old and stained and the place was generally mouldy.  They were charging $15USD/night—twice as much as we paid for our 5-bed suite with tropical balcony in Saigon.  We stayed one night in the dive and are now at the Hong Ngoc Hotel in our most luxurious room yet.  It’s spacious, dark brown hardwood with a dragon-carved wooden day bed that makes me think of harems at the Chinese royal court.  A touch ornate, but definitely comfortable.  The toilet actually has a paper strung across the seat promising it’s been disinfected.  Large, framed Vietnamese prints and a Chinese vase add to the décor.  Next best thing to The Oriental in Bangkok.  And all for only $25USD/night, including AC and satellite TV (though as Rod says, that must be the smallest, most pathetic satellite in the sky).

We’re back on the shopping kick.  We just bought four pairs of shoes—Nike sandals each, Kangaroo sneakers for me and Nike trainers for Rod.  All for $52US!!!  Crazy.  Our rucksacks cost $6 and $11USD, respectively.  We’re in shock at these prices.  Back to our Gucci Bitch and Bastard ways.  Staying at posh hotels and shopping our hearts out.

We’re chilling right now, watching some cheesy sci-fi movie waiting for the hottest part of the day to disappear.  Plans for evening:

- book tours (city tour, Perfume Pagoda and Halong Bay)
- bring laundry somewhere to have washed
- go to tailor for clothes fitting

15.08.07

Just showered from a day trip to the Perfume Pagoda, just south of Hanoi.  Perfume is indeed what we needed after that one.  I have never sweat so much in my entire life.  We hiked up the hill for an hour at the hottest time of the day.  In order to even get to the foot of the hill, we were rowed in a small metal boat down Zen (Perfume) stream by a Vietnamese woman who wouldn’t let any of us out without tipping her.  We were more than willing to acquiesce, but were less thrilled by her retinue awaiting us on the other side to tell us the amount was insufficient (before they even knew what we gave).  That is the way in Vietnam—constant harassment of foreigners for tips or to buy things.  Still, the countryside was lovely with bright green rice fields tucked into the hills, tended by grey oxen and workers in conical hats.  Vietnam’s great.  The people suck.  Is unfortunately the refrain we’ve been hearing from many travelers.  I don’t agree entirely, but all the “Madam, miss, you want some water?  Want some postcards?  Cyclo?  Motorbike?...” and trying to scam extra change on transactions, … do wear on you especially as you’re trying to cross (without a stoplight) a four-lane road packed with motorcycles.  Not a great sense that anyone really gives a shit.

We met lots of tourists today in our minibus: a German woman whose husband has just been stationed in Hanoi for 3 years!!  An Aussie Botanist; a French couple; a French journalist (woman); an older, very quiet Dutch couple, and a British couple who found the hike strenuous and the lunch of spinach and rice unsatisfying; an Italian guy from Milan and 2 Japanese girls that we ended up talking to—both Uni students from Tokyo.

Our plans for tomorrow include:

  -sourcing breakfast from the street vendors
  -checking Internet
  -fitting our tailor jobs
  -visiting Hanoi sites

Nothing too strenuous.  Hopefully it’ll be cooler tomorrow…
 

15.08.08

It’s 8pm and we’re back in our home away from home.  Our posh $25/night HongNgoc Hotel.  Thank God for this room.  Pathetically enough, we have spent a great deal of our time in Hanoi in this room.  Today though, we started out early with a breakfast of “shobao” and mandarin lemon juice before heading out to finish our self-guided Lonely Planet walking tour of the Old Quarter.  One comment I have is that the Lonely Planet makes the Old Quarter sound quaint and lovely which it is, other than the CONSTANT HONKING of motorbikes.  Their very presence is a cancer on the place.  They stink, you can’t cross the street, they’re constantly sounding their horns as they pass by, and on top of that they all pull up and park on the sidewalks so you have no choice but to walk on the street with the traffic.  Then, as you’re trying, guidebook in hand, to keep your toes from getting run over, cyclo and moto drivers call to you:  “Madam, moto, hello” from the corners of the streets you’re trying to cross.  All of this is being done in suffocating 35degree weather.  That’s the bad side of Hanoi.  And the ripping off.  The constant attempts to sell you things you don’t need, to overcharge, to change prices as you go to pay, to try to keep your change, …

The good things have been:  the varieties of nice food, including cheap and delicious pasta and pizza; the tours, one guide taught us “oichayoi” (Oh my God! In Vietnamese); the cheap shopping, especially for backpacks, silk and shoes; our posh (yet cheap) room that gets cleaned, retowelled and new sheets every day.
“It’s going to be a very cultural day tomorrow,” says Rod, surveying his guidebook.  Our plan is Uncle Ho’s Mausoleum and the Temple of Literature.
 

15.08.09

Today we visited the Van Mieu Temple of Literature in Hanoi.  Formerly, it was a Confucian centre for producing Mandarins and is considered to be Vietnam’s first university.

Some books I may get around to reading (or perhaps I’ll wait for my next incarnation) from the course of study at Van Mieu:

The Confucian Canon

The Five Pre-Confucian Classics: Book of Odes, Book of Annal, Book of Rites, Book of Spring and Autumn, Book of Change.

The Four Books (assembled by Confucius’ disciples): The Great Study, The Golden Means, The Analects, Mencius.
 

15.08.10

We visited Uncle Ho’s Mausoleum (as Ho Chi Minh is affectionately referred to by many Vietnamese).  We had to line up in the (as always) sweltering heat along with half a kilometer of Vietnamese visitors, including uniformed students on school excursions.  Foreigners are permitted to cut ahead in the line.  Most everyone was dressed in long clothing (as requested) and maintained the solemnity required of the queue by the attending guards in white uniforms.  The mausoleum was a simple, stone-pillared building inscribed with the late leader’s name.  We entered the building, at last, to be hit by what was surely the strongest blast of air-conditioning in the entire country.  Again, guards prodded us along if we stood to gaze for more than a few seconds at the figure behing the glass.  Ho Chi Minh, embalmed since 1969, looked a picture of health, about to rise for the next revolution.  He is sent to Russia, periodically, for “maintenance”, apparently.  Uncle Ho lived from 1890-1969, during which time he liberated Vietnam from French colonialism and established the Communist VietCong in the North.  He died near the beginning of the war with America.
 

15.08.12

We are currently in Halong Bay, the meaning of the name is “Dragon Descending” and the story goes that Mother Dragon and her children came (from DragonLand?) to help Vietnam fight against foreign invaders.  When she saw the beauty of Vietnam, she couldn’t bring herself to leave, and so decided to stay there forever with her children.  She dove into the sea at Halong Bay and the flicking of her tail created the region’s characteristic rock formations.  Our guide, Ngoan (Parrot), told us this and other Vietnamese cultural tales.

Another I remember has to do with Vietnamese religious beliefs.  Vietnamese are said to be Buddhist, but in fact most are ancestor worshippers as well.  Most believe that when someone dies they do not enter Heaven.  There is no Heaven, only Hell and rebirth.  Once a soul has been reborn as every imaginable being, there is Nirvana.  Anyway, in hell there are 10 courts which must be passed through, each one doles out a punishment for some evil act committed on earth (examples mentioned were: thieves get their arms cut off, those who spoke ill of Buddha get their tongues covered in hot oil)  Finally, after enduring the tortuous 10 Courts, the deceased meets the Mother of Hell.  She possesses an elixir which enables the deceased to forget the suffering they endured at the 10 courts, thereby making them fit to be reborn.  If you can’t get past one of the courts, you must remain in Hell forever, or try to escape to be reborn as a cat or dog.  Of course, this is undesirable, so the other option is to pay your way out of the torture courts.  Just as corruption exists on earth, so too does it exist in hell.  The only catch is that those who make it through Hell by employing bribery will not have their memories of torture washed away by Mother.  They will be somewhat troubled souls in their next existence.  Beats crawling on all fours, I guess.  In order to assist their ancestors in obtaining escape from hell, living relatives burn ghost money.  Apparently, motorbikes and the effigies of house-servants are among other combustibles treasured in Hell.

In Vietnam, sons are generally the preferred offspring.  Some of the reason for this relates to the fact that it is the eldest son who is responsible for looking after the families’ ancestors.  Those without sons fear that nobody will take care of them when they die.  The mourning period for a deceased family member is generally longer than in the West.  Bodies are first buried temporarily in the lowlands for 3 years to allow water run-off to decompose the remains.  After 3 years, the grave is opened (by the eldest son or someone he has assigned the job to), the bones cleaned and moved to a permanent, brick coffin to be buried on higher land.  Every year, on the anniversary of the death, a memorial gathering is held in the home of the eldest son.

We are currently on a boat in Halong Bay, near CatBa Island.  We started our “cruise” yesterday at noon, ate lunch on board, disembarked for a tour of the largest cave in Halong (it was that) and boarded again to cruise to a swimming spot and to have dinner.  There aren’t many beaches in Halong as most of the rock formations are uninhabited.  We spent last night aboard the boat.  There are about 10 of us aboard this wooden junk.  The food (crab, grilled fish) is great, the cabins are rustic but spacious.  My only complaint was being awakened this morning by water dripping on my bed from the leaking roof!  We are scheduled to hike 7km today through CatBa National Park.  I hope it stops raining.
 

15.08.13

5 days remain to our trip.  I’m trying to determine the day of the week.  Monday, I think,” was Rod’s guess.  In fact, I just checked the good old JET diary and it’s Wednesday.  We’re now on CatBa, the only inhabited island of the Halong Bay region.  The rest are rocks (over 2000) that jut from the sea in tall, vertical slabs.

Our tour began on Monday by taking a bus from Hanoi to Halong City (about 3 hours), before cruising the bay and checking out the large cave, swimming and spending the night (in the rain) on the boat.  Yesterday morning, we had a breakfast of egg and baguette and tea before switching to a smaller day-tour boat.  Rod thought he lost his watch aboard the boat, so we pulled a minor stink.  We felt like asses when it turned up later, packed in with our clothes.

We started day 2 of the tour by passing through Viet Hai, a small village, on our way to climbing Navy Peak.  We began the climb at 11am, just as the day was reaching its hottest point.  Owing to the rain of the previous day, the hillside was oozing with mud.  This made the already steep, rocky climb absolute torture.  The view of Halong Bay from the top was somewhat dampened when someone asked: “How the hell are we going to get down this muddy piece of %&’$!?” (of course the someone was me;)  I fell twice and ended up rolling into town looking like someone forgot to toilet train me… In all, it took us 3 hours to complete our little feat.  We ate lunch in Viet Hai and sampled, Bia Hoi, Vietnamese home brew beer.  Light and aromatic.

Again, we received a crash course on traditional Vietnamese culture.  For instance, on the path leading to Navy Peak, we encountered a woman burning paper money and cut-outs of paper shirts.  Our guide informed us that the gesture is one of generosity towards wandering spirits.  Normally, ancestor worship occurs in the home, but some people will give offerings to those whose living relatives have forgotten them, referred to as “wandering spirits”—a form of charity for the deceased.  We were told, however, that all objects must be burned in their entirety in order to be useful in the afterlife.  Out of consideration for the wandering spirits, only food offerings of fruits, vegetables and rice should be made to them. Owing to their state of hunger, wandering spirits would likely choke on the bones of fish or chicken.  When I asked Ngoan how I could avoid becoming a wandering spirit, she replied: “Have lots of sons to take care of you when you die.”

We also had the opportunity to enter one of the villager’s homes to see the family altar.  I felt weird just walking into his house, so I listened to his description (translated by Ngoan) from the doorway.  I often wondered, after seeing Buddhist offerings here in Japan and even more in Thailand, what happens to the food, tea bottles, beer even! left for the ancestors who obviously do their consuming on the other side, leaving all the edibles over here untouched.  Well, my question was finally answered.  Once all the incense at the altar has been burned, the food is free to be eaten.  In fact, it brings good luck to do so.

Our afternoon was dedicated to swimming and kayaking.  Unfortunately for me, most of the swimming in this region is over the side of the boat and I never quite graduated from the deep end of Lil Sharks back at YMCA.  Nonetheless I was able to don a life jacket and go by kayak to the small beach the others swam to.  Then Rod and I practiced our best cooperative efforts to get around the wavy shores of one of the many limestone formations. After our swim, we headed for CatBa Island to the hotel I now find myself writing from… the CatBa Plaza.  A large skeleton of a building newly erected.  Not the most picturesque of islands as it is in the process of large-scale development and is dug up in stony bits just about everywhere.  We ate dinner in town with the tour group as well as a Korean couple last night.  This morning we saw our tour group off at the pier as we had booked an extra night at the hotel on the island, hoping to grab a little beach time.  We were reluctant to see them go as we spent a great couple days together.  Our tour guide was also a spunky, fun personality.  While traveling, you meet so many people who just sort of fade off the path like ghosts.  I suppose the world is that way to an extent these days.  People never stay anywhere for long.  Or at least that’s how it seems among our acquaintances.

Vietnam has been an interesting place, but we haven’t felt very welcomed by the local people.  The tours and hotel staff have been good, but we haven’t been “meeting the locals”.  I don’t want to be negative about our time here, because we have seen so many wonderful things, but there has been a harshness about the place that isn’t present in other SE Asian countries.  Especially surrounding prices and special (super-inflated) foreigner rates.  For example, we rode motorcycles to the beach this morning, a very short distance of several kilometres and we were quoted a price for the journey by the hotel staff.  When we arrived at the beach (after paying an admission fee!), we were asked by the drivers to pay double the agreed-upon price.  When we tried to protest, explaining that our hotel had quoted us a much lower price, they pretended not to understand and seemed angry and resentful.  Shaking our heads, we paid the price they were asking for.  Once at the beach, which was decent but far from the magnificent shores of Thailand or the Philippines, we made our way to sit on a couple rusted lawn chairs covered in a parasol that barely stayed open.  A young guy came rushing over telling us we’d have to pay $1US each to remain seated.  We found ourselves a slab of rock off to the side.  The washroom also required payment and was of course a reeking, pathetic site upon entrance.

It isn’t so much the money—a grand total of about 5 dollars—as the idea that your cash is welcome, but you as a person are not.  We theorize that a strong undercurrent of bitterness remains towards the various invasions Vietnam has suffered over the centuries.

There really isn’t much to do on this island.  We checked internet, had a pricey but delicious lunch of grilled fish, shrimp, shakes, fruit salad and tea, before walking back to our hotel.  The ceiling in our room is tall and the window enormous.  Bright though the sun is waning.  It must be about 5pm.  From the window, I can see some Halong limestone protrusions—turtles with heavy green loads, a harbour area docking wooden junks, a few lazy shorthaired dogs, mounds of construction sand and associated paraphernalia, a tourist bus from the 70s, and 8 Vietnamese flags.

In one week, we’ll be back in Japan.  I’m not dreading it as much as I usually do.  I hope this will be the best of our 3 years, despite my weariness and general homesick state.  After Christmas holidays, into January, time will surely fly.  And we do have a small, but dedicated group of friends to help us through.  And after Vietnam, Japan will seem a lot less fascist than it used to.  ;)

I’ve just checked my watch; it is indeed five o’clock.  It only rained for a few minutes today.  “Toy Story”—US Disney—is playing on TV.  All is well.  I guess things are changing in Vietnam.  And hopefully in America too.  And everywhere that war and aggression exist.  This vacation has definitely reiterated the lesson that war is horrid and pointless and leaves nothing but scars; holes on stone, holes on countries, holes on families, and only the wounded to patch them up.  WAR IS NEVER THE ANSWER.  There is no justified attack.

Watching TV in this room means 3 channels:  Toy Story, Vietnamese Karaoke with long flowing hair and guys going gaga in tight jeans, and a Chinese variety show where thick-rimmed glasses are the cool fashion accessory.
 

15.08.15

We visited the Ethnology Museum in Hanoi today.  Super place.  Gave us an idea of the different ethnic groups in Vietnam (52 in total!) and their relationship to those in other SE Asian countries.  The main Vietnamese group is known as Kinh.  Their numbers and wealth dominate over the other groups in Vietnam.  My favourite section of the museum was an exhibit supported by Photovoice wherein some young girls from the H’Mong minority group, were leant cameras and asked to document interesting bits of their lives.  The idea was to give them some agency.  They also wrote small captions to accompany the photos they took.  The girls discussed their relationship to tourism, selling goods, family, leisure time, friendship, culture, fashion, dreams for the future, …  Most were very shy.  That I can understand.  I was also a shy village girl once.  You never know where life will take you, is all I have to say to them.

Today the power went out all across Ontario and the Northeastern US.  We haven’t been able to contact our families.  Rod wasn’t worried.  He always takes CNN crises in stride.  When it all gets debunked later, he can calmly say:  Told you so.

Our agenda for tomorrow is another tour.  To Ninh Binh Province, boating through a riverside village.  At the end of the tour, we stop at the Primate Rescue Centre.
 

15.08.16

We travelled to Ninh Binh Province with Ocean Tours.  It’s just Rod, myself, our guide, Tu, and the driver of a white Daewoo car, our tour vehicle.  Private tour.  We were picked up at Hong Ngoc at 8:30am.  We then drove down Vietnam’s Highway #1 (which covers the whole country) for 2 hours.  Driving is a harrowing adventure in Vietnam.  The roads are occupied by cars, buses, trucks, tractors, livestock (water buffalo, cows, chickens), pedestrians, cyclos, motorbikes, bicycles, all trying to pass each other—sometimes 4 wide on a two-lane road!

Anyway, we arrived at Cucphuong National Park by 11am. It’s Vietnam’s largest and oldest national park, inaugurated by Uncle Ho himself in the 1960s.  We ate lunch (spring rolls, spinach, beef?, omelet and rice), before proceeding to our 6km hike through the rainforest in search of a thousand year old tree.  The hike was tougher than I expected, but much easier than the climb up Navy Peak.  The Cucphuong trail was also slippery and fresh with rain, but much of the path had been made into stairs.  We didn’t see much in the way of creatures—some spotted deer, spiders and interesting bird calls.  The vegetation, however, was worth the while, thick and fresh.  We were also blessed with cooler weather for the first time since we got off the plane from Japan, or since Kanchanaburi at least.  Rod was the one to land on his rear end this time, breaking his watch in the process.  The only other mishap was discovering a leech slithering away from my foot after the hike.

Our second and final stop of the day was the Primate Rescue Centre, a very sweet place run by an expat German and his Vietnamese wife.  They seek out endangered primates being sold at Vietnamese markets (destined primarily for medicinal use in China), take them to the Centre where they remain in quarantine and undergo medical treatment for a few months, after which time they proceed to a caged area where they join other monkeys, before graduating successively to ever larger “reintegration” areas.  Finally, they are returned to their natural habitat in various parts of Vietnam.  The centre cares primarily for several types of gibbons and langurs, the prettiest of which, according to Rod was the 5-coloured langur.  A hopeful place.  Now we are in Ninh Binh town awaiting our 7pm dinner.
 

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