Going Good Vietnam-2011

Sara and I toured Vietnam for nearly a month after spending time in the Philippines. http://senorkentphilippines.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Going Good Vietnam-2011







Photos of Vietnam-2011

Each of the 4 photos below is the cover of a photo album. You double click on the link below the photo and it takes you to that album. If you are also interested in reading about the trip, it begins after the photos with Going Good Vietnam - 2011.

#1 Album
From Vietnam #4-2011

#2 Album


#3 Album



#4 Album-Ten Years Earlier


From Vietnam_2001


Going Good Vietnam-2011








Show Me The Money

We arrived in Vietnam instant millionaires.   We needed Vietnam Dong (VD) so we exchanged money at the Saigon airport where $1US dollar equals nearly 20,000 VD.  Our crisp, newly minted $100 bill came to nearly 2 million VD.

How many times in your life have you had one million of anything? For a moment it feels like you won the lottery until you pay for your first cup of coffee costing nearly 50,000.  Lunch after coffee for 160,000 is beginning to feel like a bargain, but $800,000 for a hotel room makes you think it should include more amenities.  I mean I’m paying nearly 1 million for a room, shouldn’t it have a private swimming pool and a top floor view of neighboring Cambodia.  In Argentina I only need to spend 160 of their money for a similar room without bar and DVD player.  Ah, the random mental chatter of a newly minted millionaire!

 Ugly, Cracked, and Broken

What are some of the worst possible things you can imagine happening on a trip? Perhaps you’re enjoying breakfast when suddenly you feel something unwelcome floating about your mouth. It doesn’t appear edible and you have only been indulging yourself with noodle soups.  Oh Mi Dios!  It’s a gold cap that has dislodged itself. 

 You are in Saigon, a bustling city of over 9 million Vietnamese. You are over 16,000 kilometers from your dentist, a 22hour flight.  You have over a month until you return on a non-changeable ticket so naturally you are worried about that exposed tooth.  In the reflection of a dusty mirror, it looks downright ugly, cracked, and broken, but thankfully, for the moment, it’s not causing you any pain.

You ask here and there for a dentist.  No one seems to know where to look until you ask a newspaper vendor.  They know everything about their barrio.  He said 2 blocks away on the left-hand side; you’ll find what you are looking for.  It’s early in the morning and only a few days before the Tet New Year.  This is the largest holiday in Vietnam where the world stand still for nearly two weeks as people return to their villages to be with family or take a vacation to the gorgeous Vietnam beaches.  The likelihood of finding a dentist, and a good one, grows slim. 

Just before you are about to give up, you notice amid all the signage pollution, an oversized smiling tooth hanging above a doorway. You are thankful and nervous, both at the same time.  The Dentist isn’t in, but her assistant looks in my mouth and at the cap, and then politely says that she will not be able to help me.  I set aside accelerating panic and calmly tell her my situation, the miles to my dentist, and that this is our day one in Saigon.  She makes a phone call and says to come back in the afternoon.  We leave and are off to an Internet café, relieved that I just might be able to get the cap put back on without resorting to a chewing gum/crazy glue fix.  Absorbed in email, the assistant appears with a polite tap on my  shoulder, saying to come back to the office as the dentist has arrived. 




When A Rose is a Rose

The dentist’s name is Rose.  She has an uncle who lives mere miles from my Portland Oregon home.  She has been to Portland, the City of Roses.  I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Who sent her?  My entire body begins to relax from tooth to toe. I am so thankful to the Universe for not only providing me with a dentist, but an English speaking one, familiar with my hometown. 

I am very comfortable with her thoroughness.  Rose and I agree that when I return to Saigon in a month, she will make a ceramic cap replacement. For now she will need to use her most expensive glue to re-adhere the gold cap until I return.  I’m thinking millions and millions of Dong.  Rose is thinking 500000 or $25US. I leave her office mere hours after the incident, energized, ready for the next adventure.

When I return she makes the new ceramic cap.  It takes 4 visits:  prepping the tooth and making the casting, custom fitting the cap, color matching it, and final installation.  Rose charges me $150 US.  It would cost in the US nearly 4 to 5 times that and 3 times the cost in BsAs.  My new porcelain tooth is high quality and the workmanship up to US standards. 






Hanging Out With Duy

I was elated to know that Duy would be in Saigon when we were there.  Duy is originally from Saigon.  He left with his Grandma and several cousins by boat when he was just a young boy. This was near the end of the Vietnam War.   His father would spend years in jail being politically re-educated and his mother died within 2 years of his arrival in the US.  They feared for his life with the North nearing Saigon.

Duy was lucky.  In what was a familiar story, pirates attacked Vietnamese fleeing in old fishing boats.  Any jewelry or money was confiscated.  Resistance was certain death. One of his cousins was also kidnapped, taken hostage by the pirates. They would rape and murder the young girls or force them into prostitution.  She was never heard from again.

Most of us have little idea of the tragedy suffered by our SE Asian friends.   They supported the USA during the Vietnamese war.  They suffered loss and hardship, many forced to flee their own country.  And rather than find a safe haven or refuge, they were often disrespected, robbed, and assaulted by the tyranny of prejudice in their new adopted land.  Thieves would enter the housing projects and steal valuable family heirlooms. They couldn’t speak English and no one came to their rescue. 

 It was common for young school-age children to be verbally and physically abused at school because they spoke little English and looked different. 3 Vietnamese brothers confided in me how one time, for no reason, white American boys attacked them.  I was saddened and embarrassed. They sensed my growing anger, telling me not to worry about them.  No one could hurt them now as in their own choice of words, they were dead already. Dead already, having left family and friends behind because of a war that no one could justify or comprehend. 

Portland has a rather large population of Vietnamese refugees from that period.  Duy was a high school student when I met him. A friend of mine who taught Duy English as a second language teacher introduced us.  She had noted his artistic talent.  I hired Duy to work in my etched/stained glass studio where he excelled well beyond my abilities.

Duy, like us, was only visiting Saigon.  He was staying at his sisters for a couple of months.  He has lots of family still in Vietnam and currently has a fiancé whom he is trying to bring to the United States.   Our timing was good and we were able to connect with Duy for dinner with time left over to experience some of Saigon’s Nightlife.  We ended up at his favorite restaurant, very nondescript.  It was full of casually dressed patrons, enjoying a variety of soups, fish, and egg rolls. Vietnamese food is some of my favorite and this place offered some of the best food on our trip.

Later we roamed downtown Saigon and visited several parks where preparation was underway for the Tet New Year.  There was an extensive assortment of wooden carvings, bonsai trees, and flower arrangements that were for sale.  We spent quite a bit of time in awe of the artistry and patient skill it takes to create such beautiful and timeless works of art. We ended our delightful evening with a fresh mango juice at the night market. Duy was off the next day to a remote coastal village of his ancestors to celebrate the Tet New Year with family. 





The Night Market

The Ben Thanh Market consisted of a large covered market complete with many restaurants and vendors.  At night it was open for a few hours, but the surrounding streets closed and transformed themselves into the night market.  The vacant streets filled with a covey of restaurant entrepreneurs.  During the day it was way too hot to be eating outside, but eating outdoors in the cooler, evening air was heaven. We returned several times to the night market for soups and assorted seafood.  There were clams, a variety of fish, oysters, squid, all fresh from the ocean only a couple of hours away. You ate with chopsticks. One of the waitresses gave Sara an invaluable lesson in using them. She began to get the hang of them.  It was that or starve as fingers were not an option for her.

There were also vendors selling everything imaginable including famous brand knock offs that were good quality and cheap.  It’s the kind of place, if you are not careful, you might just find “high quality” pearls for a 5,000VD per kilo!





The Motorbike


 There are over 5 million people in Saigon with over 3 million motorcycles.  In Hanoi it's worse.  There you will find 8 million people sharing 6 million motorbikes.  These bikes can be bought preassembled, off the rack, or custom-built like the one that Duy had fabricated.  In either case it’s difficult to leave home without one.  They are much more agile than a car at weaving in and out, of heavily traveled streets.  They are very cheap to operate and are low maintenance.




As a transport vehicle, we’ve seen everything on the back of a bike that we might put in a car.  It’s not unusual to see 3 to 5 people, the entire family.  The good news is all are wearing helmets.  Besides multiple passengers you will also see bikes loaded with furniture, trees, lumber, even fragile mirrors, reflecting the congestion of bike filled streets.  An overloaded bike represents a real hazard, but somehow accidents are infrequent.


The Art Of Crossing The Street



When we first arrived at our Saigon hotel, the taxi could only stop and park across the street. This didn’t present any problem until we tried to cross it.   It took an armed guard from our hotel to escort us safely through an endless stream of motorbikes.

 You couldn’t help but be intimated.  With hardly any streetlights at intersections and crosswalks, you were at the mercy of the bikers.    For the first half a day it was easier to just circle the block and get to know the neighborhood.  Why become a featured article in an obituary. 


As our familiarity with traffic flow increased, we would venture off the curb.  You would wait at the corner for a local person heading the same direction.  Then you would shield yourself with their body, moving as they did, through the traffic. One hoped that their physical size would stop a bike from taking multiple victims.   




After a few days you began to see a pattern.  There is some consistency. Drivers move purposely in an endless sea of other bikes.  Like fish they are independent, yet co-dependent on the movements of the larger school.  It was impressive to observe Duy navigating the streets on his bike without incident. 

Traffic flows in both directions on a two-way street. What is confusing is that there is curbside travel where bikes also move, but in opposite directions.

With curbside parking space full of movement, the sidewalk becomes the place to park your bike.  It’s also a place to sit, have lunch, and to visit with friends.  Side walkers are forced to walk on the street, competing with the bikes. 

If a biker wants to move in the same direction as the traffic on his side of the street, then he simply immerses himself in the flow.  But if the traffic nearest him is moving away from his destination, then he hugs the curb, driving opposed to the traffic. At the first opportunity He crosses over the opposing lane of flow, immersing himself in the flow of bikes moving toward his destination.

That seems simple enough for the biker, but what about the pedestrian?  He simply sees 4 different directions of bike travel that he needs to cross.  And he sees hundreds of bikes, not 10 or 20. 

In time you realize that all the bikes are moving at a slow, consistent speed. Everything appears chaotic, but this consistency of speed gives the bikes time to maneuver and avoid accidents.

So what do you do to cross the street?  You look straight ahead to the other side. You step into the traffic, walking slower than the bikes are traveling. You are consistent, never altering your pace or direction.  This gives the bikers time to judge their response to your movement.

 In a continuous wave, the motorbikes, like the school of fish, simply flow around you.  As congested, as it is, walkers don’t get run over and bikes seldom collide.  It also helps to not rotate your head in the directions of traffic flow.  You are better able to adjust your pace and reaction to the bikes flowing by.  You rely on your peripheral vision and avoid creating a blind spot. Eventually you made it to the other side. Whew!

This wasn’t my first time in Vietnam nor was it Sara’s.  Both of us had visited within the last 10 years.  Sara enjoyed Saigon the first time and was enjoying it as much as before. I, on the other hand, had fond memories of NhaTrang and its beaches, Hoi An, and Hanoi, not Saigon. 


This trip all was different. Saigon was thriving and full of surprises. It certainly doesn’t have as much historic architecture as you'll find in Hanoi, but it definitely has charm.  I appreciated Saigon’s sunny weather and the life style that accompanies it.  There is more activity outside, in the parks and on the street.  Hanoi, on the other hand was cold and rainy.  It has definite seasons.  This trip Hanoi was winter grey and drab, unlike my first experience during its summer.

It's No Sin Making Money

What I loved about Vietnam my first time was the ease of moving from place to place. The Sinh Café made that all possible.   It was their first year of business.  They noticed the flow of overland travelers coming from Cambodia headed for Laos and China. I was one of those travelers.  We wanted to experience Vietnam too so Sinh Café started an English-speaking bus service and tour company for backpackers. It was a great idea and way to capture tourist dollars, rather than relying on the strength of the Vietnam economy.  




They knew that we were looking for cheap rooms, transportation, and the means to explore a place once we got there.  They rented motorbikes.  They arranged local tours.  They offered quality lodging with hostel pricing.  If you didn’t want to use their  services, they would drop you off at their local office. These offices were always located in the backpacker areas.  Thus for about $25US you could travel by their bus/mini vans from Saigon to Hanoi.  You could stop anywhere along the way, reserving another seat when you were ready to move on. Today Vietnamese locals have discovered their services. Unlike the past, you need to book a few days in advance to secure seats and lodging.

10 years later I found the original company had changed its name to one that was copyrightable  under new Vietnam Laws. The company was so successful that Hanoi had erupted with an explosion of copycat offices using the same name Sinh Café. Some would lure clients in with the name, take their money, and close the office.

 Now known as The Sinh Tourist, they have over 30 buses, many of them sleeper style, and own at least one hotel nearby every office.  They still offer tours of Ha Long Bay but have added hundreds of other options around Vietnam. Many of these mini tours would be very difficult without The Sinh Tourist organization and their language facility.  The best part, true to their business model, they still target the backpacker offering excellent service at cheap prices.   

I ran into one of the managers that I remembered from my first trip to Vietnam. He had since moved with the company from Nha Trang to another, recently discovered beach town where he manages his own ocean front cabanas and restaurant. We were lucky to get a room at his place.  Most hotels wer fully booked for the Tet New Year. It didn't matter that prices double for the two-week holiday. 



Surviving On Savory Soups


For some a savory soup every day for breakfast might not sound so delicious.  I looked forward to them as nothing quite compares to freshly made rice noodles floating in a delicately spiced, watery broth topped with garnishes.  Cilantro, onions, garlic, bamboo shoots, and an assortment of other seasonal greens were the typical toppings.  You added to taste a variety of condiments, such as fish sauce, chili, and soy sauce.  There was always the option of shredded of chicken, pork, beef, or fish, should you want a little protein.  

The lunch and dinner menu included more plates than bowls, though I often look forward to another satisfying soup.  A tasty side dish of fresh spring rolls dipped in peanut sauce might complete a meal. 




One of our favorite side dishes was water spinach or morning glory.  It was a delicious accompaniment to a plate of garlic shrimp, barbequed fish, or stuffed squid. And of course with each meal there was always a huge bowl of white rice, a seasonal fruit drink, and a crisp, refreshing cucumber salad.   You never left the table hungry.

 From Here To There

We left Saigon to celebrate the New Year by the sea at a beach resort called Mui Ne. We used the backpacker bus service that offered a sleeper option.  The interior of the buses looked like a youth hostel dorm with stacks of bunk beds. It was a comfortable, cozy ride, with your seat partially or fully reclined, reading or snoozing away the hours.

This was my first time to Mui Ne and I was pleasantly surprised.  We had a bungalow accommodation that was a barefoot walk to the beach just beyond the swimming pool.  It was unexpected to see waves in the afternoon careen against the sea wall and spray the sunbathers.  The rather strong wind gave the waves substance as well as brought out a substantial number of kite surfers jettisoning off the white caps.

 In the morning it was ideal for swimming and beach combing for shells.  The water was calm and the tide receded, low enough to walk some distance on the beach. 




In one direction you would pass leaning palms, overhanging the shoreline. Beyond an isolated stretch of beach was a small fishing village, their fleet anchored in front.  You could get close and examine beached, circular basket boats used to ferry crew and fish from more conventional-looking craft.  They seem an oddity in the navigational world, but with their one oar, they are able to move quite well, like a water skipper, across the ocean’s surface. They can easily accommodate 2 men and their fishing nets out to harvest the nearby fish beds. 





Moscow Beach


In the other direction the sand widens exposing a gorgeous stretch of white beach.  Here you will also find the back door entries to high-end Mui Ne hotels.  Up off the beach, running parallel to it for miles, in front of the hotels is the main street that connects the beach town with the rest of Vietnam.  Traffic slows and tourists can spend hours walking several kilometers past restaurant after restaurant, bars, lodging options, and small gift shops and vendors.  

It appears odd that on this end of town, all the signage is in Russian.  It turns out that over 80% of the tourists in town are from Russia.  You start to notice them everywhere. They have lots of money and dress well.  The guys are usually escorting a gorgeous woman heavily jeweled, looking more like Euro Models. This contrasts nicely with the other Russian segment that looks like retired military personal, overweight, and drinking way to much Vodka.  





As to why they are rude, I don’t have an easy answer.  The Russians have not had an easy time of it.  They finally have resources to travel and  perhaps feel that wealth equates with respect.   I think my sentiments below describe the Ugly American as well.  Maybe the Russians can learn from our mistakes.

You can’t help but recall some Russians being drunk and excessively loud. Worse, when they cut in front of you, as if deserving of priority service, it takes restraint not to verbally blast them.  I don’t like to think that I’m prejudice, but the incidents weren’t isolated.  I understood why some service industry locals resented the Russian expectation, while praising the courteousness of tourists from other countries.





Motorbiking Mui Ne & Phan Thien

We were happy to be in Mui Ne for the Tet New Year.  We decided to explore nearby Phan Thien, hoping to experience more of the festivity there.  Instead of hiring one bike, we choose to hire 2 bikes with drivers.  Taxi motorbiking would free  us to enjoy the day, as the city traffic was very congested, requiring a great deal of attention to negotiate.




 It was a good decision. The fellows were cautious and tourist oriented.  They made a few unexpected stops for us to view some ancient temples and the grounds of a Buddhist Center.   They liked my digital snapshots and didn't mind stopping whenever I asked.  They seemed to feel a part of the process.  They would get us to a choice location.  I would hold the camera, Point it, and click.  They excitedly would wait to scrutinize the photos and help me filter through them. 


They chose the most picturesque route.  They knew where to go for the best sunset, overlooking the harbor and the sea.  We move as a team. 






Phan Thien is wired.  Lights everywhere reflect the Tet New Year Celebrations. Not just one or two light, but literally millions and millions wrap the bridges and the streets.  There is a carnival in progress with the world’s tiniest Ferris wheel.  There are hundreds of vendors, selling food items, stuffed animals, and colorful balloons.  Sara and I leave our guides to walk along the river.   We are mesmerized by the ambience and color that comes with the last hour of approaching darkness, all reflected on the slow, moving water.

Vietnamese people are not very tall by Western standards but that has nothing to do with their personal warmth and friendliness.  In that regard their presence is huge. I find myself drawn to their culture, sense of family, and possible genetic disposition toward artful detail and cultural presentation. 


While we meander we notice friends and families enjoying soup and egg rolls sitting at low tables in chairs, even small for the average Vietnamese.  I’m smiling, as it’s impossible for me to slurp a soup sitting like they do.   My chin nearly rests on my knees!

Dancing Dragons


Returning to Mui Ne in the late evening the beach town is just awakening for a night of celebration.  There is lots of music, noise, banging of drums. A troupe of dragons and dancers erupt from the back of a flatbed truck. They rush full costume into one of the luxury hotels.  We follow ending up in a gorgeous, outdoor restaurant setting with a beautiful pool. As I suspected, no one paid much attention to us. There were a couple of glances from staff that just as quickly forgot us, distracted by the heightened anticipation of the Tet Performance about to begin. 




The drums begin again, beckoning the performers with new rhythms.  The troupe did amazing precision acrobatics. A dragon might consist of 3 people working in unison to create life like movements. Several dragons would perform in Unison.
 
Their level of professionalism would rival any Las Vegas Act.  It was simply amazing to watch and I took photos with abandon.  In the next few days this troupe and others would visit every hotel, including ours.   They would also enter the homes of locals. The children loved interacting with the larger than life creatures. They were encouraged to touch them. One moment the street was quiet, only to erupt again with the beating of drums and acrobatics. The performers were given money in appreciation. 





Other Tet Traditions

There are other Tet traditions.  Yellow flowers are seen in abundance everywhere, in homes and shops. In the North because of the colder climate, Pink peach blossoms are the traditional New Year flower. The blossoms symbolize change and new beginnings.   Another tradition is the creation of small ancestral altars in homes and stores.  A plate of 5 fruits is offered inviting the ancestors to return and join with the family in the Tet celebrations.  Finally there is the custom of family elders giving children lucky money from the money tree. Duy gave Sara the traditional red envelope containing lucky money. It symbolizes wealth and luck. How lucky to be young!


We enjoyed our motorbike excursion so much that we decided to go the other direction along the coast.  This time we rented a motorbike, no driver.   Sara put on her helmet, climbed on the back of my bike, and we were off.

The road was full of obstacles.  Animals, people, and bikes appeared from nowhere. The road was a meeting place.  Groups would form, watching others playing board games.  People would walk 4 abreast with 2 or 3 on the road itself.  Motorbikes were the constant, with the younger, fearless drivers, weaving in and out, adding to the tension.





Just when I was ready to turn around, the road climbed up above the ocean. From our vista we overlooked a Vietnamese harbor loaded with colorful boats.  We were in the most beautiful, picturesque location to enjoy the late afternoon light.  We biked into the village and explored some of the tiny side streets leading to the harbor. The sun was fading so we headed back to Mui Ne arriving soon after turning on our headlight.  


Nha Trang - Sleepy No More

It’s good times in Vietnam.  There is work and more people have money to enjoy their own country. Nha Trang, rated this year as one of the top 10 beaches in the world, is a major destination now for Saigon vacationers.  You add a few foreigners, mainly Chinese, and you’ve got crowded beaches and a seafront of multi-storied hotels.  There are also hundreds of new restaurants and nightlife activity to please every fetish. Nha Trang is booming with much of the growth having taken place in the last 4 years.  




Times have really changed.  10 years ago Nha Trang was a sleepy fishing port.  It had gorgeous beaches with few people and beautiful offshore islands, some with colonies of monkeys. I was looking forward to sharing Nha Trang with Sara.  My fond memories faded with our arrival.  That day it appeared a paradise lost. It was inundated with hordes of vacationers. The streets were jam packed with people and cars.  The development of the waterfront area to meet the high demand left towering hotels where once there were 2 story buildings.  



It wasn’t that Nha Trang beaches were any less beautiful.  It would require a new way of experiencing them. Early risers by the hundreds would stake out their place to soak up the sun. Bathers would lie elbow to elbow.  The rest of us had few options for bathing. You could return to your hotel pool, full of children, or settle for a stroll along the beach through a maze of persistent vendors.  


With not much else to enjoy, food became a focus.  The abundance of fresh seafood was incredible. You wondered if there was anything left in the sea.  We both like shrimp and had our fill.  After a few days the mere mention of shrimp was enough to make you consider a vegan lifestyle.  

I was hopeful that the island would recapture some of Nha Trang as I remembered it, so we excitedly booked a boat tour.  When we arrived at the port, we were assigned a boat.  There were 100 passengers and inadequate seating though I never mind sitting on the bow.  From there you have a sense of expansiveness.  Accompanying us were 20 other boats filled to the brim. We would shadow each other all day, sometimes tying up to each other, like a gigantic log raft.  On my first trip there were 20 passengers and only one other boat so I’m doing my best to adapt to the new Nha Trang. Thus we began our island adventure.





When Memory Clashes with Reality Today

 First stop was a small island with a new, but cheaply constructed amusement park and aquarium that way overcharged for entry.  90% of the boat passengers stayed on the boat.  These passengers were almost exclusively vacationing Vietnamese.

The next stop was another island where your only option was to snorkel or stay on the boat.  The masks leaked and the snorkels were nearly useless so I decided to go for a swim.   99% of the passengers stayed on the boat. Why? They did not know how to swim. 

The day continued like this with one disappointment after another including a late lunch with only enough food to feed 70% of the passengers.   It wasn’t a pretty picture to see some greedily consume everything within reach, leaving others with little more than rice and a few ripe bananas. 

Being on the water is always a pleasure, but I was now thoroughly disappointed with how Nha Trang had grown. I could barely hide my frustration and would never again recommend the island hopping tour. I learned later that the islands I visited years before were further out and much more expensive to visit today, so demand was minimal.  Because of their isolation, perhaps they remained special.  I wasn’t up to finding out.  It was time to move on.




At The Break Of Dawn - Hoi An


We were thankful to leave Nha Trang behind and were looking forward to Hanoi and the hills tribe villages.  Half way to Hanoi we had booked a couple of days in the ancient city of Hoi An. It once was a major trading port with China and developed an interesting mix of cultures and well preserved architecture.  The city sits on the banks of the Thu Bon River that flows into the South China Sea.  Though the architecture is predominantly Vietnamese, there are major influences of Chinese and Japanese style.  It is a well-preserved jewel of cultural heritage.




You feel that you have stepped back in time.  As if you were a part of a living museum.  Motor traffic is restricted in the center of the ancient city adding to its charm.  In order to accommodate tourists, Vietnam tailors of custom clothing have made Hoi An their home.  You can view catalogs or samples, be fitted, and in a day, be presented with a finished garment.  The quality is very good and you have remarkable selection of fabric and textures from which to choose.




Now was the opportunity for Sara to fill her empty suitcase.  She has excellent taste and I enjoyed the process of hand selecting fabrics and colors with her. She was able to have several dresses and blouses made for pennies by Western standards. Remember Millionaire status comes with your Vietnam visa; so paying 800,000VD for a custom fit, tailored garment was a bargain!    You would pay more at home for lesser quality goods off the rack. We both had custom wool coats made that fit so well we looked like Alaskan models. Chuckle!  We were going to need those coats for SaPa.


We rolled in to Hoi An on a sleeper bus at the crack of dawn.  You are immediately deluged with motorbike taxi’s offering you hotel rooms and transportation.  We had booked ahead via the Internet as we did most of our accommodation throughout Vietnam.  Thus it was only a question of getting our suitcases and us to our hotel.  The first offer was equivalent to US$5 each that was more than the cost of the sleeper bus.  I started asking around.  The problem was that we had no idea where the hotel was located.

You have a sixth sense about these things.  No one likes being taken advantage of.  Thus I offered $1US per bike.  When the guys jumped at it, I knew that I was still paying too much.  I was so right.  We drove 1.5 blocks and they stopped in front of a hotel.  I couldn’t help but laugh and we all enjoyed the moment.  When you bargain, you pay what you feel the service or product is worth to you. Both the buyer and seller compromise and feel good with the negotiation.  Now after the fact realizing the ridiculous price that we had negotiated, it is too late to do anything other than celebrate your contract with a good laugh. Later we would get motor taxis to take us 5km for $1US. That was the going rate for locals.  






Our boutique hotel was located just outside the ancient city, an 8-minute walk to its center.  We overlooked rice paddies where the early morning mist, suggested an ethereal landscape. The women would be out harvesting water spinach, a delicious vegetable.   We would sit on a raised, wooden porch, enjoying the view and a delicious breakfast.





Each room was uniquely appointed with paintings, textiles, and floral arrangements. Our first room had a wooden bathtub with shower overlooking the rice paddies. The hotel was exceptional and its personal charm heightened our Hoi An experience.

 Hoi An is truly a treasure. No wonder that it is listed as a World Heritage Site.  The Thu Bon River cuts through the city and borders the old town itself.  It offers a promenade to stroll where vendors gather daily, selling a fresh selection of vegetables and floral arrangements. 









The sidewalk borders the daily market as well.  I awoke one morning at 6am to photograph all the activity in the early light. Fish of many sizes and species were all ready stacked up for sale. I had all ready missed the sale of the fish off the boats to the vendors.  In addition to fish  there was a variety of other kinds of seafood from clams to squid.   I observed one fish, a walking catfish, flop out of a pan of water, and squirm across the pavement toward the river, not away from it.  It never made it, but it moved quickly aware of the direction toward home.  





 The River itself is alive with activity.  Ferries cross it frequently full of passengers and motorbikes.  Women sit in dugouts offering to take passengers across the river.  There are many fishing boats with their crew preparing for another outing. 

The river flows into the sea nearby and that meant the possibility of beaches. We wanted to compare this coastline with the quality of beaches further south.  The best way to do this was with motorbike so we rented one for the day.   Within a half hour we were sitting on a beautiful isolated beach.  You could see that the white sand  continued uninterrupted for miles.  We spent several hours’ sun bathing and collecting shells.  

Sara didn’t mind the bigger waves that come with the January winds.  She would dive into the sea, and then rejoin me, exhilarated and enlivened by the cooler water.   I was content with the sun on my back watching the antics of an Argentine mermaid.  We returned to the beach several times. The beaches of Hoi An rate thumbs up from both of us.   

After a long day of walking here and there, you were hardly immune to the sweet beckoning of the massage parlor ladies.  Unlike some countries, massage here is an important element of daily life.  The Vietnamese recognize the health benefit and offer a very affordable service.

One evening Sara and opted for a foot massage with warm herbal bath.  It sounds good doesn’t it?  It was!  It cost about $6US so there was no excuse for not indulging yourself.   They scrubbed your feet and placed them in a large ceramic container filled with fresh herbs and warm water. After a relaxing soak, you were gestured to a table, to lie in a prone position, where they would massage your feet.  When they applied pressure to some reflex points, you felt an uncanny direct link to different parts of the body.  A good foot massage relieves tension in your back and other areas.  It’s an indulgence worth repeating.   

Hanoi And The Old Quarter


We arrived in Hanoi by air at 4:00 am.  We left from Da Nang International Airport close to Hoi An. Da Nang is about an hour away by taxi and the drive there hugs a beautiful coastline with white, sandy beaches. Da Nang is now under construction with many new first class, water front hotels that will change the ambience forever.  


Our cheap $50US flight had been postponed that morning until midnight. With further delays it was nearly 2:30 am when our plane finally departed Da Nang.  We learned later that it was not unusual for Jet Star airline to postpone until their planes are full.  We didn’t mind so much as it gave us another sunny day in Hoi An.  Thus it was not our plan to arrive in Hanoi so early in the morning, a city that is noted for its thieves and scam artists.  We were thankful that our hotel had arranged for a driver to meet us.  






 


We stayed in the Old Quarter, which has lots of charm with its mixture of French and Chinese Architecture.  It was very confusing at first to navigate the narrow, winding streets. Many were unsigned or changed their name when you crossed another. There are over 50 streets.   Many are noted for the merchandise that they sell.  One street might offer silk clothing, while another herbal medicines. This is not so unusual in SE Asia or Latin American for that matter, to shop a street that sells identical or competitive products.  As a consumer, it makes it easier to find what you are looking for. 




The Best Cup of Coffee Ever

One afternoon while exploring some interesting ethnic handicraft, 5 young men pulled up on the sidewalk by us with their motorbikes.  Rather than park the bikes, they walked them through the shop, disappearing down a dark, narrow passage way.  I thought it quite strange and immediately got Sara’s attention to follow them with me. It was such a bizarre thing for us to do, but for whatever reason I wasn’t worried.  When we exited the narrow passage it opened into a space where there were several more bikes.  The boys were ahead of us heading up a flight of stairs.  At that moment a woman approached us with a menu. 


This was the entry to a coffee shop, but there was no way you would find it without someone showing you the way.  We relaxed and order two white Vietnamese coffees.  The waitress gestured us to the stairs and up we went.  We climbed at least 4 stories, past a small Buddhist altar, to emerge on a small terrace with a few tables and chairs.  Below us was the most incredible view of Hoan Kiem Lake nestled in the center of Hanoi.  A girl brought us our coffee and we laughed at our incredible good fortune to discover this secret place.  

The Ritual Of Vietnamese Coffee

Vietnamese coffee is quite flavorful.  It is very, very strong and has its own ritual.  The grounded coffee is put in a small metal cup sitting above your coffee cup. You pour hot water over the coffee, cover it, and wait while the brew drips into your cup.  For the most popular drink, white coffee, condensed milk is added first and stirred in later. For an iced coffee, perfect for the climate of Saigon, ice is added later. It takes several minutes for the coffee to drip, producing a very dark, almost syrupy consistent drink. Like many other countries, coffee drinking in Vietnam is an important ritual of social and political interaction.




Lucky Turtle, Lucky Us


Hoan Kiem Lake sits just outside the Old Quarter.  It is a refuge from the noise and pollution.  Daily we walked around it to experience some open space and enjoy the trees.  One of the features of the lake is a small island where they have preserved and display an enormous turtle that had lived in the Lake for over a hundred years. The turtle is revered and has spiritual implications for many Vietnamese.   Now only one remains in the lake, a species nearly extinct.  This is no small turtle with a head the size of a basketball. It weights over 200 kilos and is nearly 2 meters in length. 


It is considered good luck to see the living turtle as it rarely surfaces.  Sara and I got lucky and used our good fortune to explain away an unusual warm, sunny day in the mountains of SaPa, still in the throws of winter.   Sadly though the lake’s water has become a polluted soup and just after we left Hanoi, a group of environmentalist rescued the turtle to help it regain its health. He was probably surfacing, gasping for help.  Lucky Turtle!

Memories Are Made Of This

The opera house in Hanoi is quite beautiful.  It is also a backdrop for Wedding photography as is the shoreline of Hoan Kiem Lake. The Brides look lovely under the trees along the lake.  The day that we saw the turtle a large group formed quickly by the water’s edge.  One photographer got so excited at the possibility of seeing the turtle, he unthinkingly abandon his client.  He rushed toward the gathering spectators; camera in hand, hoping to record the turtle and garner any luck the sighting might bring him.  His client, picture perfect was left standing alone as all the attention had been diverted from her album photos.  For her the turtle had altered her experience in an undesirable way. Thus what is lucky for some may not be so lucky for others.  








The practice of visiting an historic place or monument for wedding photos was also commonplace in Saigon. At the War Remnant Museum we saw 5 or 6 Bride and Groom couples posing for photographs on the museum grounds. Everyone was very well dressed and having fun.  The photographers, all had an assistant that helped with makeup and lighting issues.  The couples looked like models.  It turns out that hair salons offer photographic services and wedding attire.   Getting married? Buy your dress while you have your nails done!


Chug-A-Chug-A-Chuuuuuuuu!

You really need to use a service to book transport, mainly because of the language issues.   You can stand in a ticket line at the train station, but your chances are slim of being easily understood.  Thus we bought our train tickets from an intermediary for a nominal surcharge.  We arrived at the station, crowded and full of movement, with instructions to meet some nameless person who would have our tickets. You are skeptical and hope that you are not the victim of a Hanoi scam.  My first instinct was to consult other foreigners on the chance that they too were using a ticketing service.  

Fortunately we met 4 friendly Scandinavians who had made similar arrangements and were also headed toward SaPa.  They pointed to an unofficial cue serviced by 2 guys sitting on chairs, dispensing tickets.   We presented our receipts and they cross-referenced our names on a list.  We were given our tickets, and with a sigh of relief, relaxed with the others waiting for the train’s arrival.  

There were many trains coming and going even though it was 2200 hours.  Finally our train arrived, 45 minutes late.  There was a mad rush to board it, but we had arranged first class sleeper accommodations.  We weren’t concerned about finding a place to sit. 

When we reached our car, the conductor was telling the 4 Scandinavians that one ticket was not in order. At the first opportunity I nervously give the conductor our tickets.  He checks them against the list and waves us on.  We are relieved to be on the train.  We have a compartment with locking door and 4 bunk beds.  Sara is a good sport and takes the upper, a smaller space. We figure out how to get her up top, as there is no ladder.

We have just stowed our luggage, when our cabin mates, an Afro-American from Georgia and his Vietnamese Girlfriend, enter our shared compartment.  We were fortunate that they were talkative and friendly as we had a 10hour trip ahead of us.  I only became concerned when conversation suggested that our new young friends might be involved in drug trafficking.  I hoped they weren’t stupid to have anything on the train.  I was careful with our baggage so that nothing ended up in them that we didn’t bring. 

On our way back to Hanoi we shared our compartment with 2 young ladies from South Korea.  They too were friendly, sharing their backpacking experiences all over Vietnam.   It was unsettling to hear their views on the current posturing going on between N and S Korea. Why can’t everyone just get along?


The SaPa Zap


The Train pulled into Lao Cai, a Vietnam-China border town, at approx. 5am. SaPa is approximately an hour away by bus. We are hustled by several English-speaking guides to use their minivan service.  We settle on a reasonable price with a soft-spoken man.  We get to his van, stow are luggage and choose a comfortable seat.  He tells us that he needs to wait 10 more minutes for a second train bringing a group that he is picking up. 

After 20 minutes I’ve noticed that the once crowded parking lot is now half full.  Many vans have left.  I decide to explore other transport options. I encounter 2 guys who laughingly say that the train that our driver is waiting for is not due for a few more hours.  They will take us to SaPa for nearly double the price but we will leave immediately. 

I go and get Sara and our luggage.  Our driver is visibly upset with these two.  We load up, are asked to pay our fare in advance, but something tells me to wait until we are underway.  The Driver pulls out of the station and through town just to its edge where the street lights stop.  The two guys start getting belligerent and demanding I pay them right now.  They quote a price double the initial price.  When you don’t have language, you need to really be calm and think through a strategy before someone gets physically aggressive. I repeat that I’ll pay when we leave town, thinking that we would be sitting at this stop for an hour or so waiting for other passengers.  Finally to avoid any more tension I agree to pay the driver the original amount agreed and no more.  I do this because the driver appears trustworthy though he speaks no English.  


Immediately the 2 guys get out of the van and the driver gets out,  all meeting at the back of the van where they talk loudly.  The driver returns and the 2 guys walk off in the direction of town. The guys who spoke English, realizing our predicament at the train station with no other vans headed to SaPa for several hours, had quoted us a high price, but promised the driver more money as well.  The driver was probably forced to give these scam artists, any money over the normal fare rate to SaPa.  The good news was that we were finally on our way to SaPa.  Instead of the trip costing us $1US it cost us about $7US each. It’s not a lot of money to us but to the mountain people of Vietnam, it is. No one likes to be a victim of a scam.  It pays to follow your instincts, but listen to the first warnings and not wait for unexpected circumstances to unfold.






What A Difference Daybreak

We arrive in SaPa after daybreak.  The journey up the mountain road is spectacular with fog clinging to the lower hills.  As we climb higher we pass through the last layer of clouds to a gorgeous, sunny SaPa day.  We are dropped off at the Market, which is about to open.  I leave Sara with the luggage and take off up the road where there are some hillside hotels.  I approach one of the first and find that they have a room.  Actually the hotel has 30 rooms, all currently empty.  This makes bargaining for multiple nights at a descent price easier.  
I choose a room on the top floor overlooking the Plaza and facing the picturesque hills above SaPa.  I negotiated an electric blanket and a space heater something many hotels did not offer.  Remember it’s still winter and we were warned that the temperature would drop 20 degrees centigrade at night.  The electric blanket was the kind that you lie on rather than lays over you.  It was toasty and welcoming, as was our hot shower, another often excluded amenity.  We were very cozy and enjoyed the cold mountain temperatures.  




When I returned for Sara and our suitcases, she had all ready made some new friends.  They were young girls, black Hmong that lived several kilometers from SaPa. They had textiles to sell and walked to town nearly every day. Because we were now friends, they told us that we must buy something from them. They told us this not just once, but with such repetitive enthusiasm, we soon wearied of their attention.  They would not leave us alone.   This drama would repeat itself many times. The Hills Tribe people do not take no for an answer and can be aggressively persistent.  “Buy from me!  Buy from me!  You Promised! You Promised!”









Everything was negotiable. It was better to buy things when the market opened or when it was just about to close.  At midday hundreds of Chinese tourists descended on the market for a few hours. By late afternoon SaPa was virtually a ghost town. One bus group however filled our hotel for a single night leaving with the morning light. The Chinese have a different concept of personal space and some would gather outside our room to drink and talk loudly about nothing we could understand.  On nights like that you are glad that you have earplugs.  

The Magic Garden

The weekend Saturday market was packed, but unlike Friday the weather was foggy, cold, and drizzly.  The day before we hiked up in the hills through a magical Chinese Garden to vistas that revealed the entire valley below. We walked on paths of stone that wound upward and meandered off into the hills. We were in awe of the shapes of nature, passing rock formations that look like sentinels, standing alert and proud, jutting forth from beds of grass. 










We interacted with other hikers, sharing a bit of our story. There were several Chinese families also visiting the park.  We both enjoyed posing for photographs together with dramatic expression.  To each other are features were uniquely different, as different as our cultures, but we thoroughly enjoyed each other’s sense of playfulness.








We were offered apples in a gesture of kindness and universal friendship. One kindness can change the world. I carry that memory, the delicious flavor of it, and am reminded to be kind to others.   On the way up the mountain we passed several teahouses.  We indulged ourselves, sitting on tiny chairs, in a tea ritual all to itself. This was definitely our lucky day!


Friday Hmong, Saturday Hmong

The Friday market was very active in the early morning absent of tourists, so we did some shopping/pricing, reserving most buying for the Saturday Market that was now upon us.  The Saturday Market was two to three times as big as the day before, offering a lot more than handicrafts.  This was the big day for villagers living in the surrounding mountains. They came to town to do their shopping and bartering. 






There were the Black Hmong and Red Dzao Hmong hill tribe’s people.   Their costumes differentiate mainly in the headgear, though both dress in beautifully ornate hand woven textiles.  The clothes, mainly cotton, are intentionally heavy to combat the cold.

A typical buying session might start with a display of minimal interest in some item; say a hand woven bed spread.  Once your attention is aroused, every Hmong within sight, crowds around to offer a slight variation of the same thing.  The garment might differentiate in size or combinations of color, but it is uniquely their work, and you must acknowledge it.  




The bargaining might begin with the attention-grabbing tug, accompanied by yes, you guessed it, “Buy from me! Buy from me!”  At times it is truly an overwhelming experience.  You are reminded of persistent, hungry children.  This scenario repeated itself with such frequency,  it left you thoroughly exhausted.  You either bought something, encouraging more attention, or you left the area, entering the off limits zone beyond the portal of every shop and restaurant.  Noses would then press against the glass from the outside, their eyes following your every movement. If you acknowledged them by looking in their direction, their mouths would begin to move.   Even without hearing the words, you knew what they were saying…over and over and over again!

Early evening it started raining really hard so we canceled our plans to observe the weekly Speed Dating session, Hmong Style.  Instead we opted for an herbal bath and body massage.  Sara and I shared a private room with 2 tubs, filled with very hot water to which Herbs and Essential Oils were added.  After a half hour of soaking we were rousted out of the tub into the chill of night and taken to another room where we were given body massages with warm oils.  When the girls had finished with us, we only had strength to get to our room.  It was a delicious experience and both of us fell quickly asleep dreaming about the incredible adventure we were having…”Buy from me! You Promised!”


Speed Dating

Okay, you want to know more about speed dating.  Every Saturday night young men and women from the surrounding hill tribes comes to SaPa to meet potential mates.  In a village, say 10 kilometers away, there may not be any young girls. So the boys make the journey to find one.  We were told that the boys and girls dance and sing to each other.  If there is any connection and think that the other is of marriage potential, they agree to leave for the forest where they spend 3 intimate days and nights together getting to know each other. If they find after a few days that they still like each other, then they consider marriage, meeting the families, getting permission.  If they decide not to continue, then they merely show up next Saturday night for another round of Speed Dating. 









The Hmong are not promiscuous, but sex before marriage is not taboo either.  Unfortunately some Westerners take advantage of this.  Any mixed blood offspring can have a tougher time being assimilated into the family of Mountain dwelling people.





Flower Hmong Sunday Market

Leaving SaPa at 6am we traveled about 4 hours by minivan to the Bac Ha Sunday Market. The colorful garments and originality of design of the Flower Hmong are the attraction. This is an important weekly market for them as they come from many surrounding villages to sell animals, sugar cane, produce, and textiles.   Sara and I split up as I wanted to photograph this visual feast and she wanted to do some serious shopping.  First we toured the market together to get our bearings and decided on a restaurant to meet in a few hours. The prices were much better than in SaPa with a lot more variety.  Both of us were excited to be in Bac Ha.









The ethnic costume that the Flower Hmong wear is notable for its layer of texture, pattern, and color.  The market itself reminded me of 1970 market days in Guatemala.   I was all ready wanting to extend our stay for another week or so. 

One of my photo strategies was to settle into locations with an appropriate background and allow market activity to come to me.  I was camera ready.  I found that digitally sharing a snapshot would often allow me a second opportunity to get an even better photograph.  


Whenever I can, I always try to get photos back to my subjects via the Internet. Many of them have little visual record of their life story. You have to be creative here as Internet connections are limited in some areas. Ask about the town doctor, a teacher, a family member in another town.  One of them might have an email address and willing to act as an intermediary for you.  







Farm Fresh Distilled Corn Liquor

After the Bac Ha market we visited the small village of Ban Pho about 4 km away.  Here the Flower Hmong still used water buffalo to till the rice fields.  It was also an opportunity to enter the house of a local family.  Grandma distilled home made corn liquor using a wood burning stove.  She made money for the family selling her moonshine to other locals for various celebrations.  Her corn hooch had a kick to it, though it was quite smooth, like a well, aged tequila. She packaged it in small 500 ml recycled water bottles, selling it cheaper than the original water. 

Over 3000 Thousand Of Them


Ha Long Bay never disappoints.  Located about 4 hours from Hanoi it is home to over 3000 islands, many with uniquely shaped, limestone features. These jagged Karst formations rise out of a glassy sea giving a surrealistic vision of time in suspension. Adding to the mystery, it can be dead quiet on the water, except for a passing boat or the call of an occasional bird. 

The best way to experience the Ha Long Bay world is to spend a night on one of the many custom built wooden boats. Some of the larger ones have beautiful orange rectangular sails. Typically the boat like Sara and I booked had 6 cabins on the lower deck and 4 more up top where the dining room is located.  No matter where you were in the boat, you could feast your eyes on the every changing landscape.






At the port there were several hundred boats available for service, but this was winter.  Now there were maybe 20 others out on the water with us.   It didn’t feel crowded like the boat tour in  Nha Trang.  Here the other boats and people didn’t impact our visual enjoyment in a negative way.

Our room was the width of the boat with bathroom, double bed, and a sliding wooden window that opened up on the opposite side of the boat from our cabin entry.  Our floor was a mere meter off the water.  The boat reminded me of the movie King Kong which had a similar feel to the cabins. We too were on a big adventure. Though attacked and bitten, we never did find any oversize apes or larger than life insects. 






Once moored for the evening, small open boats, a floating market, would pass by offering fruits, veggies, and liquor. The merchandise was thoughtfully arranged over the bows of the boats in a colorful, inviting display.  The women would row from boat to boat willing to bargain down from ridiculous prices often 500% above what they were willing to accept.




 Most of the time the atmosphere was almost mystical, with the karst forms visible off in the distance, filtered through a lens of mist and drizzle. The quality of daylight ran from light grey and ghostly to a momentary rip in the sky with the sun illuminating a few of the islands.  The effect created was to visually separate the forms and enhance reflections. You were in awe of nature.  It felt good to be alive and be able to witness this special place.

Death Without Reason


Some travelers weren’t so lucky.  In the morning, after we pulled up anchor, we motored by a sunken boat with its mast reaching for the sky.  It was odd to see the Vietnamese flag flying on the top.  It looked more like a memorial to some fishermen who perhaps died in a terrible winter storm. 
We were soon to learn that the boat had only sunk a few hours before. There may have been a small explosion in the engine room.  What was the condition of the boat?  It sunk very fast, within minutes, as only the crew survived. Most of the passengers,  Europeans and 2 Americans, had drowned in their cabins. The mast was visible because the water was only about 10 meters deep.  There was no debri. There were no rescue boats looking or diving for survivors. Adding to the tragedy was the fact that other boat captains paid no notice.  Could people possibly be trapped in their cabins with small air pockets, their survival time limited?  Where was the crew? 

The sea was like glass and you had no idea that you were looking at a tombstone. The immediate press was certain to turn away tourists. Who would choose to go to Ha Long Bay to die?  The problem was that some boats were in need of serious repair.  


This accident initiated new regulations and certification of boats used as overnight hotels. It set in place new controls for monitoring the condition of the boats and caused the creation of new safety standards.  In a country where permissions and permits can be bought, one can only hope that this is not the case with boat safety.  I also had the feeling that this tragedy would only be news for a week.  Next month’s tourist, unaware, would start booking overnight stays again.

The Final question is more philosophical. Why them and not us? Would we not have gone to experience the magic of Ha Long Bay had we know someone was going to die?  In hindsight I think that I would want assurances on the condition of our boat and its safety features.  I suppose if I took all the necessary precautions and tragedy struck, I wouldn’t have wanted to change a thing.  I would have been prepared to exit a sinking boat.  And if I didn’t make it, then my only consolation would be that I was doing what I wanted to do.  I was having a big adventure in a life all to short anyway. Aren’t there calculated risks in all that we do?


Kayaks, Floating Markets, Fishing Villages

Ha Long Bay is more than surreal landscapes.  There are opportunities to visit floating, fishing villages where fishermen sell their catch.  They keep the live fish in wire baskets suspended in seawater.  You can see the fish up close as if you were in an aquarium.  The large squid is an impressive, colorful creature.  It has the misfortune of also being very tasty.








At one of the floating villages Sara and I went sea kayaking for the first time.  The boat was extremely responsive to each movement and dip of the paddle.  After a few minutes we noticed that the kayak was taking on water. We had on life preservers so there was minimal risk of drowning, but we weren’t prepared for wet clothes. Our discomfort and annoyance with the kayak people evaporated in the quiet solitude of our adventure. We glided across the still, reflective surface of the sea in awe of the beauty of the place. We would deal with wet clothes later.



Some of the karst formations contain large caverns carved out of limestone by centuries of erosion.  The sizes of some rooms are large enough to accommodate a house.   In fact in Borneo’s Niah Cave system, you will find the Harrison house built in the mouth of the cave, dwarfed by the size of the entry.  In the Niah cave you could build a 4-story apartment complex. 

The stalagmites and stalactites formed from years of calcite drip water are purposely lit to stimulate the imagination, revealing in the forms, faces of spiritual leaders, animals, and body parts. I think that everyone sees what he or she wants to see.  Buddhists see Buddha; Christians see Jesus and his disciples. I saw an impressive phallic symbol.  What do you see?  



Wanted:  Girlfriend, Possibly Marriage 

Our excursion to Ha Long Bay included a guide, a young man of intelligence, humor, and diplomacy. He was in his early twenties.  As we became better acquainted he shared with us what it is like for a young person in Vietnam today.






He commented on how difficult it was to get a girlfriend. I thought that he was engaging and genuine, a good catch for a young lady.  However, in the North there are some 10 men for every 7 women, so there is much competition for potential wives.  And you need money for a wife. You need money to start a family and buy a house.  You need a good job of which there are few. He told us how hard it was for young people to find work so many returned to the farms of their parents.



At the moment he had a good job but there were no guarantees on his future as it was not a family business.  He was saving money realizing that buying a house was not in the realm of possibilities for less than 40 years in the future.

Cultural norms and values play a part in the problem. How? By affecting the ratio of young girls available to boys.  For those who are lucky enough to marry and have children, they still need good fortune. Why?  You are unlucky if you have a daughter, but no son.  You are lucky if you have a son. Why?  Because it is the responsibility of the son to take care of the parents so naturally parents want boy babies.  Thus sex-selective abortions were common in Vietnam until recently.  The government in 2006 banned this practice. I’m guessing that legislating   control of cultural beliefs must be difficult to enforce.

I asked our guide what kind of support does the government offer the family. He explained that Vietnam is a socialist, one party system called the Vietnam Communist Party. Only Party members can borrow money from the government. If you qualify, then you might be able to secure a loan of 1% interest per month to buy a house.  Fortunately children from ages 1 to 7 get free medicine.





No - No Subjects


Though some subjects border on the taboo, I asked about corruption in government and business.  He felt that it was a serious issue, but difficult to eliminate. 

 If you are unhappy with the way things are, then you must become a member of the Communist Party.  Only members can vote for change. Your choices for major changes in leadership are limited.

I also asked him how the Internet was impacting his life.  Unfortunately, like in China, Vietnam is trying to control content and the dissemination of any information that opposes the party line.  Sara and I experienced this first hand, as some websites, like Facebook, were censored in Vietnam.  The techno-savvy knows how to get around these restrictions however. One method is too remotely access forbidden websites through a friend’s computer in an internet-liberal country.






One Last Time _Ho Chi Minh City

Same City, Saigon, but it sports another a name now.  After the war and the defeat of the imperialist foreign aggressor, Saigon’s name was officially changed to Ho Chi Minh City.  There are many monuments and museums that reflect the pride of the North.  One such place is the War Remnants Museum.  It is a testimonial to Ho Chi Minh’s Victory.  The museum is located in a beautiful old mansion and its rooms are full of antiquated armaments and propaganda posters.   Like the Opera House in Hanoi, it is a stage set for numerous wedding photos. 

Sara and I had only a few days left to explore Saigon. We had planned enough time to complete my dental work.  So everyday started with a trip to the dentist, while the afternoons were spent on a walking tour of city highlights.  The ceramic cap was installed without problems.  With the price of gold today my dentist suggested I hold on to the old gold cap.  Someday maybe I’ll trade it with some other gold scraps for a house or something.  Does that sound ridiculous? Today the price of gold is over $1,500US per ounce, up 500% from 2 years ago.  Because of an unsustainable debt load and the exuberant printing of greenbacks, the dollar is worth at least 30 % less against other currencies than it was 5 years ago.   Real estate values also continue to drop.  I’ve experienced at least a 25% drop in home value.  Foreclosed houses are selling for 30% less of depressed market value prices which means I only need to hold on to my old gold cap for another couple of years. I’m thinking since I all ready own a home maybe I’ll give the gold cap to the young man in Vietnam.  How many years before it will be worth enough to afford a girlfriend, a new home, and a couple of babies?

Sara and I discovered some ballroom dancers practicing in a series of cupolas located in the park.  They meet in the evenings 4 times a week.  Dancers at each cupola were working on a different dance.  Some were learning Cha-Cha-Cha.  Others were working on their Salsa or Tango moves.  This was ballroom tango.  We explained that Argentine Tango was different.  We danced for them and they really liked close-embrace Tango and our more spontaneous choreography.

All their dancing was definitely Vietnamese in style.  The movements were very dramatic and there were lots of sways and dips. I liked what they were doing and gleaned a couple of Vietnamese moves that would work well in Salsa or Cumbia.

There are some things I’ll definitely miss about Vietnam.  I’ve all ready gone through a severe soup withdrawal.  I’m experimenting with fresh egg noodles and vegetable loaded chicken soups.  It helps.  Same, same, but different!




I will also miss the inexpensive, yet professional body and head massages. They were 20% of massage rates in Argentina.  One of our last treats before leaving Vietnam was a trip to the beauty parlor.  Sara got her toes done.  I didn’t.  I opted instead for a shampoo and head massage.  It takes about an hour. They even rub as far down as your tension holding shoulder blades.  When finished, grey hairs appear darker. You are no longer weary and tired.  You feel younger and alive, each hair follicle revitalized.  You are ready for your next adventure. Aahh!  Africa? Hold that thought!