Hanoi Fish

The Art of Misunderstanding

2006-04-02T19:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning we found a GIGANTIC spider in our bathroom. And I don’t mean a simple spider of large proportions, I mean, a monster of a spider. Like, a spider so big and scary that we were too afraid to even take a picture of it. It was resting where the wall bends into the ceiling and divided its eight legs into four pairs. It was brown and black and covered with hair. Like a tarantula, only longer and skinnier. I have never before in my life seen a spider this big. And we really didn’t know what to do. I thought the best thing to do would be to capture it and throw it outside, mainly because the idea of killing it seemed so messy. It would be like killing a rodent with a rock; slow, cruel and dirty. But we also realized that if we pissed it off enough while trying to capture it, it might bite us. And we had no idea how venomous this spider was.

We searched the Internet but couldn’t find any information about it. There were no pictures or anything. So we decided that it was either us or him and one of us had to go. Of course it became my duty to dispose of the spider. I put on a hat and gloves, my glasses, shoes, and whatever other armor I could find, and assembled a weapon. I taped one of my flip-flops to the end of a broom and went into battle. I knew I had one shot at killing it because otherwise it would just get angry. And I was having horrifying visions of this giant spider jumping on my face. I went into the bathroom.

I swung at the spider as hard as I could but because of where he had positioned himself my flip-flop didn’t make a solid connection. I had only stunned him. In hopes of a second try I anxiously swung again but this time he was prepared. He leaned his body to the left and quickly tucked in his right legs, flinching in disbelief. At this point I knew I had failed. I had shown myself as a predator determined to kill him and he knew he had to try and survive. In one fast and graceful motion he spun a web to the ceiling and lowered himself down on a shelf where he could hide behind some bottles. I could see parts of his huge body and long legs from behind Bina’s Cutex and shampoo, and through the greenish tint of my Listerine. He was too big to hide but had successfully found cover.

Bina was frantically looking for some kind of bug spray but could only come up with a can of spray paint. Ironically, the only bottle of bug spray we had in the house was on that shelf, sheltering the bug! And so I used the spray paint. I figured that the paint fumes would stun the spider while the paint would harden and paralyze him. I started spraying the shelf and all of its contents with white spray paint, spastically trying to stop the monster and completely disregarding the mess I was making. But after spraying him in quick bursts, and then solidly for several seconds, the only thing I managed to do was turn him into a white spider. But he was getting sluggish, and I finally felt like I might have the upper hand.

Eventually, as the paint started to harden, the spider gave up and curled his long legs into his body. I used the flip-flop to slide his massive carcass off the shelf and into a bag, which I then placed under my foot and stomped on twice. It was a horrible end for that spider, and one that I hadn’t wanted to last that long, but it seemed necessary.

Later that morning our friend Tuan Anh came over and told us that the spider we battled was no threat. And in fact a really cool spider that is neither poisonous nor harmful in any way. It’s just big and ugly looking. This made us feel awful. What a typically ignorant thing to do to kill something you’re afraid of. We were so eager to get rid of the strange intruder that we didn’t really take the time to try and understand what it was. And misunderstandings seem to be in abundance here in Vietnam.

Later, we battled with the landlord over our deposit on the apartment. He was unaware of the spray paint spider fiasco, or any of the nails we put in the walls, and wasn’t the kind of guy to nitpick the little things. Instead he began adding up eight months worth of electricity bills, cable tv, and hot water. And when he told us we owed him $450 we were floored. We had come to collect our $200 deposit and were now in debt! In the end, after getting several other people involved, we came to an agreement that was far better for him than us, but we accepted our fate and were content with the simple feeling that at least he understood why we were so surprised at the charges. It would have been so much worse if we hadn’t involved our friends who could help us understand his perspective and help him understand ours. And in the end, what seems to make things better in any situation is just being able to understand the different perspectives at hand. Misunderstandings seem to be in abundance here in Vietnam.

MK in Nam

2006-03-26T17:37:00.000-08:00

Our friend Mary Katherine O’Brien came to visit and spend St. Patrick’s Day with us earlier this month. She figured Hanoi could use a real Irishman in town for the holiday and brought shamrocks to paint the town green.

We went to the one and only Irish bar in Hanoi and celebrated by drinking stout. The place was mobbed. It was crowded by every ex-pat living within a 40km radius. Bina and MK really got into the spirit and danced Irish jigs in the bar and were regaled with compliments on their authenticity. Little did anyone know it was the stout that knew the dance better than the girls. But when asked what part of Ireland they were from, they either made up a name or just said “Boston!” Which didn’t get all that much credit. But still, people from Ireland will drink with you on St. Patrick’s Day regardless of where you’re from.

The next day was my Birthday so we started celebrating that too. After we got home Bina and MK performed an impromptu lip-sync rendition of Guns and Roses “Paradise City”. Bina makes a great Axel and MK improvised Slash by wearing a bicycle helmet and calling herself “Crash”. ... It was the early 90’s all over again!

The next day Bina brought home several balloons that made the apartment feel serene and a bit surreal. Like Warhol’s Factory in a hangover haze. It’s always been strange having a Birthday the day after St. Pats. (Drunk at midnight, hangover during the day.) You’d think I’ve had enough negative connotations with it to never want to do anything on my B-Day. And mostly that’s true, but it also means I'm always very relaxed and completely unambitious on my B-Day and that makes getting older a little easier.

We also spent a couple of days on Cat Ba while MK was in town. It was good to “Rock the Cat Ba” as Julianne would say.

Here’s a picture of explorers Louise and Clarketta capturing the scenery.

MK on a motorbike:

Mary Katherine is originally from Maine but is currently living in Texas (Well, Austin, which is technically Texas, but not as scary.) so we figured it was appropriate to take her to the 17 Saloon, a bar in Hanoi that imitates an old western saloon. The Vietnamese who work there are all dressed up in cowboy outfits and the band plays country western music for most of their set. Of course every now and then they have a couple of guest singers join them on stage for karaoke-like versions of popular MTV hits. 17 Saloon is one of the strangest places in Hanoi. It’s bright, loud, and completely obsessed with the American west. There’s even a sheriff strutting around inside that actually looks like he could kick some ass in a bar fight. But I guess you shouldn’t dress like a sheriff unless you could!

Thang

2006-03-09T02:11:00.000-08:00

I went to the studio of my painter friend Ha Manh Thang last weekend to look at some new work he’s doing for an upcoming exhibition at Sloppy Joe’s. Although I don’t work at the bar anymore I’ve agreed to continue helping them with the exhibits.

I met Thang through my friend Tuan Anh whose paintings were the first to be exhibited at Sloppy Joe’s. Thang is a great painter and draughtsman who has enjoyed a certain degree of success in Hanoi. His work is exhibited regularly at different galleries and he makes a living from selling his work. His subjects range from landscapes to portraits and are usually abstract, yet recognizable in their subject matter.

Tuan Anh, Thang and I met for coffee early in the morning and then went to one of our favorite galleries in Hanoi. The Suffusive Gallery. They focus on young Vietnamese artists whose work tends to be heavily conceptual and “on the fringe”. Here’s a link to the gallery but it may not work. http://www.suffusiveart.com/

Then we spent the afternoon at Thangs studio listening to music, talking about and looking at art. Thang showed me the paintings that he wants to exhibit at Sloppy Joe’s and told me about the concept behind them. He’s painted over 20 small portraits and has 10 more to finish that will be displayed in groups on the wall. They will look like clusters of people gathered in different areas of the bar and we joked about how “busy” the place would look once the work was hung.

Here are a few examples of the portraits.

We’re working on a timeframe right now and planning the show. Hopefully it will be up in a week or so.

Dini & Anju

2006-03-03T18:11:00.000-08:00

Dini and Anju came to visit last month. They stayed for almost two weeks and we had a great time. Dini is Bina’s sister and Anju is Dini’s husband for those who don’t know.

The day after their flight left New York, a record 27 inches of snow fell in Central Park.

They brought us bagels from H&H! As if I wasn’t already happy to see them. And the bagels were still fresh!

Bina and I have discovered so many great restaurants in Hanoi that we were determined to take Dini and Anju to as many as we could. We even designed a schedule that covered each restaurant for lunch or dinner, and had to leave a few off in favor of others. They really should have stayed longer, but we were able to hit the best ones, regardless.

We hung around Hanoi for a few days and then took a flight to Danang. From there we took a bus to Hoi An. Hoi An is famous for its tailoring and food. It’s a bit of a tourist trap in comparison to other places in Vietnam, but because of this, it is also really accommodating to foreigners.

Our obsession with getting clothes made started out slowly and almost in a healthy nature. But by the time we left, we had become insane tailor junkies in need of a constant fix. We bought so much shit that we lost track of what we bought! We had accumulated more receipts than a nightclub coat check. It was ridiculous. But oh so worth it! Our fixes came in spurts of jackets, dresses, shoes, suits, and getting favorite things copied. Our addiction became so bad that we actually had to purchase two additional suitcases to pack it all. Luckily, we were only in Hoi An for three days.

The final tally for me included two pairs of pants, a three-piece suit, three shirts and a pair of shoes. Bina limped away with four suits, five shirts, four dresses, two jackets, and a pair of boots! I don’t remember what Dini and Anju got specifically, but we were all pretty evenly matched.

The problem was that it was all so cheap! If you wanted to stock your closet with a bunch of new business suits it would almost be worth the price of a ticket to Hoi An just to save on the suits! And the material is nice and they’re tailor-made! Incredible.

Our favorite tailor was an old woman we affectionately called Grandma, because, well, she was an old Grandma. And her Granddaughter, whose age we couldn’t agree on, was her assistant. Grandpa even showed up one day and proceeded to salute us like soldiers, so we kindly returned the salute.

Grandma made me a three-piece suit.

When we weren’t shopping like celebrities, we ate and drank a lot. Of course, drinking never helps in a town like Hoi An. Bina has been known to beer-goggle dresses before, only to come back the next day, sober, and reel at the hideousness of her purchase. Friends don’t let friends drink and shop.

We did take an excellent cooking class one night and learned how to make green papaya salad, spring rolls, and a few different meat dishes. We learned that the four main spices used in Vietnamese cuisine (At least in Hoi An) are salt, pepper, sugar, and chili pepper.

Hoi An is also close to the beach so we rented bicycles and biked to the beach. It was a little too cold to go swimming, but the view was nice.

We took a train from Hoi An to Nha Trang, a beautiful beach town eight hours to the south. The train ride was enjoyable and the passing scenery was fantastic. In Nha Trang we mostly ate and wandered around. We spent an afternoon at the beach too but the waves were so wild that we didn’t stay in for very long.

From Nha Trang we went to Dalat. This was a very pleasant surprise. Dalat is my new favorite place in Vietnam. It’s in the mountains and surrounded by pine forests. It’s not too touristy despite being a popular destination for tourists, and is home to the best vegetarian cuisine in Vietnam. The people are warm and friendly and the city is laid out over hills, so its streets are rolling like a true mountain town.

We rented motorbikes and explored the town and its surroundings. We even went for a hike up a mountain.

Anju Easy Rider.

Swan boats in the local lake.

We paid a visit to the local celebrity artist Duy Viet at his café. This guy hosts people from all over the world and has been written up in several magazines. He’s a bit of a cult figure and very eccentric. He keeps instruments and sketchpads around for his visitors and encourages creativity and hippy-like camaraderie. At one time, he was actually the Mayor of Dalat, and this is probably why the city is so cool. It’s probably, at least, why the giant town radio tower is lit-up at night to look like the Eiffel Tower!

Although the French at one point colonized Vietnam, they adopted few French traditions. I mean, you can find croissants here and there, and the people love coffee and café culture, but the one thing they totally overlooked was cheese and wine. The later being the topic I want to address.

Vietnam produces one kind of wine and it comes in white and red. It’s called Dalat wine. And yes, it’s from the Dalat region where we were. But the vineyard and winery are somewhere farther away from the city so you can’t easily visit the production facilities. Anyway, Dalat wine is typically one of the worst drinks you could ever consume. A bottle in Hanoi goes for the equivalent of $2. (2-Buck Chuck anyone? … Only nowhere near as delicious!) And has usually been sitting out in the sun for a week before you buy it, so it’s old, spoiled, and smells more like dogpiss than anything grape-based. It’s real shit, and usually only socially acceptable after everyone’s already drunk on three or four GOOD bottles of wine. Even still, people hate the way it tastes.

So it was funny to take Dini, a wine expert and budding entrepreneur in the wine business, to Dalat. And to add to the irony, we ordered it at a restaurant ....and it wasn’t too bad! In fact, I might be so bold as to say it was pretty good. This solves a mystery for me; Dalat wine isn’t the poison everyone thinks it is, it’s just that the Vietnamese don’t know how to ship it or how to take care of it in their stores. And maybe the best place to drink Dalat wine is, well, in Dalat.

From Dalat we flew back to Hanoi where we spent a few more days hanging out. The weather wasn’t as nice in Hanoi as it was in the south, but we still enjoyed walking around. We even went to see the entombed Ho Chi Minh. He’s embalmed and laying in a mausoleum for anybody that wants to pay him a visit. Of course, you can’t take pictures of him and you’re suppose to observe a series of respectful guidelines when you enter the mausoleum, like keeping your hands out of your pockets and dressing conservatively. I wish I had a picture of Uncle Ho to show you. It was really quite spooky. But here’s the mausoleum from the outside.

We also paid a visit to the famous “Hanoi Hilton” which was once a prison. However, despite what you read, the Hanoi Hilton has nothing to do with the Hanoi Hilton. The Hilton is actually on the other side of town. What is now build on the old prison grounds is the Hanoi Tower, a different hotel. Anyway, part of the old prison remains and has been turned into a museum. The artifacts displayed show how terrible the Vietnamese were treated during French colonial times, including two Guillotines and solitary confinement cells that would make Houdini claustrophobic. All accompanied by gruesome photographs of poorly treated Vietnamese prisoners.

Of course, when the prison was used by the Vietnamese after French colonial times to detain captured Americans during the Vietnam War, the displays and photos take on a whole new prospective. The propaganda, er, I mean “artifacts”, make it look like the prison was a summer camp for GIs. There are pictures of the men hanging out, playing cards, laughing, and having the time of their lives. It’s an amazing display of altered history.

John McCain’s flight suit is on display too. And everything he had with him when he was captured.

I’ve used a bunch of Anju’s pictures for this blog entry because he took such good ones, but there’s a bunch more if you want to see them: http://www.kodakgallery.com/Slideshow.jsp?mode=fromshare&Uc=7ahh00gv.1nnkfowf&Uy=890moa&Ux=1

Minsk Trip

2006-02-23T20:37:00.000-08:00

My friend Al and I went on a motorcycle trip to the north a few weeks ago. We were on the road for four days. He had the week off from work and wanted to rent a couple of Minsk motorcycles and get out of town. We planned a route that would take us into the mountains and close to the Chinese border. We picked up the bikes on Wednesday morning and headed out of Hanoi. The traffic was miserable and it took a while before we found the highway we were supposed to be on, but after that, it was smooth sailing to the north.

Here's Al before the trip:

We drove for a better part of the day, making a few stops along the way for beer and cigarettes. By the time we reached Lang Son, we were ready to eat and relax for the evening. We booked a room at a hotel and explored the city.

Lang Son is a simple city with beautiful little mountains surrounding it. The mountains are small but steep and some of them have stairways built into their sides. We climbed a couple of them to get a view of the city.

Al doing the "Top-of-the-World" pose:

Don't these mountains look like a pair of breasts?

The similarity is uncanny!

In the morning we headed north again. This time to a town called Cao Bang. Along the way we took a wrong turn and ended up at the Chinese border.

We found the road again and continued north.

We took a small detour to drive over a few mountain passes and found ourselves on one of the worst roads of the trip. It was under construction and muddy from being soaked by rains from the past few days. We drove in the deep ruts made by trucks but still got stuck several times. The bikes slid around and were hard to control. Luckily the Minsk is made for this kind of terrain and runs well in low gear. We were able to pass the mountain and reconnect with the main road on the other side. It took a lot longer than we had expected.

We came to a river crossing that offered a ferry for trucks and a shitty little bridge for motorbikes. We took the bridge.

It was starting to rain and get dark. We drove as fast as we could to try and beat the darkness but ended up rolling into Cao Bang after sunset. We found a hotel and headed to the local bar. The bar was great. It was a cocktail lounge and real find for any part of Vietnam let alone a weird little town that far north. We drank a few cocktails and then bought a pack of playing cards and headed back to the hotel. We stayed up pretty late drinking and playing cards and then passed out. We had planned to leave early the next morning for another mountain pass road on our way south to Bac Can, but we didn’t wake up until after 9:00 and our hangovers kept us off the road until 11:00.

We drove up a main road to find the mountain pass road. It was a long detour and we knew it was going to take a while. However, when we finally reached the road, it was flooded worse that the other muddy road and impassable. We had been on a wet and foggy road all the way up to this road and knew that this detour was going to be bad. We were literally in the clouds and the ground must have been soaked for weeks. We knew we didn’t have enough time so we had to make a decision; should we keep going west, past this mountain dirt road and reconnect with the main road to Bac Can much later, or do we turn back and count our losses. We knew that if we turned back it would save time, and so we did. We had wasted the best daylight we were going to have and drove 120km out of our way. In Tinh Tuc we turned around and headed back to Cao Bang.

The road to Bac Can was a good one. It was smooth and easy to drive. The view was spectacular too. However, we had run out of time again and arrived in Bac Can in the dark. At this point, we had been driving all day with hardly any stops. We were cold, tired, and hungry. We found a hotel and went for food. It was a well-earned meal and we started to feel like we were coming back to life.

In the morning we actually managed to get up early and head out before 9:00. This made all the difference in the world. We took another detour through another mountain pass road, and although it was just as narrow and unkempt as the muddy roads, it was covered with rocks and easier on the bikes. Nevertheless, it was just as slippery. The bikes performed beautifully and the ride was exciting. The bikes pitched from side to side, bounced up and down and jumped over rocks and ditches. Controlling the sliding and skids was tricky at times but I felt like a dirtbike racer on a well-designed obstacle course.

We reached the town of Thai Nguyen a lot earlier than we expected and realized that we’d be in Hanoi by 5:00. We took our time getting back and stopped for coffee. But this road was a main highway and very busy with traffic heading back to Hanoi, so we just kept up a good pace and let the kilometers pass.

Getting back into Hanoi was no fun. The trip was over and the traffic was totally uninviting. But it was good to be home. We were covered with mud, soaked to the bone, and tired. It made me realize how great it was to be out of town, but just as good to be home.

A ride like this is a great way to clear your head and take in nature. It’s challenging at times and the only thing you can think about is the bike and the terrain, trying to get through a difficult area, to a simple destination. And at other times it’s fast and easy, leaving you to your thoughts.

Here's a map of the trip:
I think if you click on it you can see the details.

Goin' South

2006-01-28T23:26:00.000-08:00

Drew came to visit for a few weeks and we had a great time. He was here for New Years and then we all traveled south together. We went to Ho Chi Minh City (Old Saigon) and then to a couple of small towns in the Mekong Delta.

Saigon is bigger and more cosmopolitan that Hanoi. And that’s about it. I guess it’s easier to live there and the nightlife, including live music, is more active, but it’s so large and sprawling that it makes Hanoi seem like a quaint little city. We did have a couple of great meals and barhopped one night, but it’s hard to get an impression of such a big city in such a short time.

In Can Tho we hired a boat to take us a floating market where we ate pineapple and checked out some old canals. Our longboat was captained by a really nice man and his wife. They also had a little puppy on board named Dollar. We all laughed when he told us the puppy’s name.

We headed to Rach Gia where we were going to spend a night and then head to Phu Quoc Island. Rach Gia was very uneventful and we were more eager to leave than explore the town.

We took a high speed boat to Phu Quoc early in the morning and after two and a half hours of high speed rocking back and forth, and pitching left to right, we were all pretty sick to our stomachs. People had warned us about this boat and that everyone around us would be puking their guts out, and sure enough, several of our fellow passengers were doubled over barf bags, silently praying between their knees for the ride to stop.

Phu Quoc was worth the trek, seasickness, and wait. It’s probably the most beautiful natural beach I’ve ever seen. It’s not that it was especially clean, if fact, throughout the week that we stayed there we noticed an unusual amount of trash build up on the beach. It was mostly caused by some nearby construction and the boats fishing off shore. What I mean is that it’s still relatively unmolested by developers.

We ate every night at this tiny family-run restaurant that was literally a shack on stilts on the beach. The table and chairs were buried in the sand and there were hammocks strung between the support beams. The man would take your order, go to the kitchen to cook it, then bring it to you. So simple and personable and some of the best food we’ve had in all of Vietnam.

Phu Quoc Island is so undeveloped that you really feel like you’re one of the first people to experience it. But in truth, it’s just that Vietnam is undeveloped and a place like Phu Quoc can go untouched for years and years, existing on what it already is, not what it could be.

It’s only a matter of time before the big developers get into Phu Quoc and develop the hell out of it. We were seeing the signs of it while we were there. A billboard advertising a new resort coming soon, and the obvious exhaustion on our restaurant owner’s face by the steady growth of his clientele. We arrived on a Monday and enjoyed the solitude of this little hamlet, but by the end of the week more tourists had shown up and filled every corner, drowning out the locals and demanding resort-like service.

Of course it’s important to mention at this point that I realize we were part of the problem, but I’d like to think that by acknowledging it I somehow exempt us from the damage. But then, I enjoy my creature comforts as much as the next guy.

Back to the beauty:

There was little to do on the whole Island. We rented motorbikes and tried to explore but the roads were all red dirt and choppy and after a few hours of riding we were tired and sore. We were told to go to a few different areas but could never find whatever it was we were suppose to see, and after a day and a half of this we realized the only thing to do on Phu Quoc is sit still, enjoy the food, sun, and beach. And so that’s what we did. We settled into a comfortable routine of meals, walks, and swimming.

Then Drew headed back to the states and Bina and I went to Thailand. But not before picking up Drew’s new suit from the tailors!

We landed in Bangkok and spent a few nights taking in the city. It was nice to be in a more modern city. We took advantage of the movie theaters and saw King Kong and the Chronicles of Narnia. Then we ate Dunkin Donuts. It was good to sample some of the luxuries of the west again. We also ate a Subway sandwich, which is funny because we rarely eat those back in the states. (We’re Quiznos fans.)

Before the movies play in Thailand there’s a short film of the King shaking hands, planting trees, and doing all the things that make him so loved throughout all of Thailand. It runs the length of the national anthem and everyone stands at attention until it’s over. It’s a well-respected tradition and nobody goofs off. Can you imagine if there was a short clip of Bush along with the US national anthem before every movie? People would buy extra popcorn just to throw it at the screen.

There are great markets in Bangkok and the food is amazing. Even the cheap little street kitchens have some of the most delicious Thai food you’ll ever eat.

We flew to Phuket where my friend Eddie lives and spent a couple of nights with him. We rented a motorbike and toured the area. More great food and beautiful weather. We drove up the side of a mountain where monkeys roam wild and fed them bananas. They’re used to people visiting them and bringing them food so they surrounded us as soon as we stopped our bikes and came right up to us with their hands out. They knew we had bananas and they weren’t going to wait for them.

We took a boat to Ao Nang in the Krabi province and stayed at a bungalow for a few days. The bungalows were rickety and ramshackled, but still, a great experience. We spend most of our time eating the local cuisine and hanging out on the beach. We went on an elephant trek one day and got to hang out with the elephants. They were used for logging in the region before it was outlawed so now they spend their days giving idiot tourists piggy-back rides through the jungle. Anyway, we had a great time and if they could talk I’m sure they’d say it’s better than hauling logs all day.

Bina made friends with some of the other local wild life too.

Phuket and Ao Nang were both badly hit by the 2004 tsunami. They’re pretty well recovered for the most part, but still a bit rough around the edges. From what the locals say, it cleaned out the beaches and brought more sand, but the amount of rebuilding that they had to do was incredible. And even with all the work they’ve been doing for over a year you can still see the damage.

We flew back to Bangkok for a night and then home to Hanoi. The difference was amazing. You hear all these things about how Vietnam is one of the last communist holdouts, nationalistic beyond outside influence, and you think, well, you can still buy a coke whenever you want. But even after living here for this long, going to a different country for a week snaps you back into the conveniences of modern life and the readjustment process has to start all over again, like you’ve never lived here before.

It’s now Tet and everyone has left the city. Everyone told us we should leave because the city basically shuts down. All of our friends have either gone to Thailand, Singapore or Malaysia. But we were quite excited at the idea of a dead city with nothing to do so we’ve stuck around. We bought a ton of groceries and are focusing on some projects that we wanted to work on. Our street is quiet and there’s very little traffic anywhere. It’s the nicest I’ve seen this city yet.

The Cutest Puppy Ever!

2006-01-04T08:46:00.000-08:00

Holy shit. How cute is this puppy?
Don't worry, this isn't the kind of dog they eat here, but we were still plotting ways to save him from such a short leash.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2006-01-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

New Years Eve started out at our apartment with a few friends. We got drunk, ate food, played music, adorned ourselves with temporary tattoos, ate jello shots, and burned our New Years resolutions for good luck.

Al and Horoko:

Lua and Duc:

VK:

QA modeling a new tattoo:

Hosting like Mr. Roarke:

Drew breaks into the Jello shots:

Al reacts to the jello:

More yummy jello all around:

An impromptu concert:

Happy Lua:

Some wild animals: Bina and Jess show off their new tattoos. Jess was so excited by hers because the face looked so much like Patrick Swayze!:

We all wrote our New Years resolutions on pieces of paper and set them on fire.

Then we headed out to Sloppy Joe’s for more drinks, confetti, karaoke and ringing in the new year. (Hanoi time.) I haven’t sung in so long that I felt myself getting winded after Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer”. But c’mon, that’s a really hard song to sing!

Craig, Chantrelle and Dean, full of jello and ready to sing!:

To Anh and Drew passing the mic:

Jess rocks out.

After the karaoke debauchery we went dancing at one of Hanoi’s hippest joints. Barracuda. It’s an ex-pat bar next to the red river in a neighborhood I always get lost in. We were let off by a cab and walked for an hour before we found it. But that was all forgotten when we started dancing.

Visitors!

2005-12-30T19:37:00.000-08:00

Bina and I have been having a great series of visitors! Some are overlapping and others are a couple days apart, but overall it’s been a non-stop, action-packed month. And we have more friends on the way! Bina has several new pictures on her photo link too.

V1
Eddie Sperry:

Eddie wants to meet a girl with a bicycle pierced to her face. His ideal woman is one who owns a book. Eddie has half a foot from a motorcycle accident and got increasingly angry at the shoeshine kids who wanted him to take off his boots. And when they tried to sell him sandals, they just didn’t understand why he wouldn’t buy any.

Eddie came to stay for a few days with us in Hanoi but then traveled by himself to the south. He had several adventures, great pictures, and funny stories when he returned. Eddie is one of the funniest people I know. I think he must be certifiably crazy only no one has certified him yet.

Eddie now lives in Thailand. He’s an old friend of mine from New York and an amazing musician / producer. I met Eddie back when I played bass for Mozart’s Grave and made a couple records with him.

Here’s a few pictures of Eddie.

V2
Julianne and Erica:

Julianne and Erica really opened our eyes to all that Hanoi has to offer. Funny, leave it to guests to expose you to things you’d overlooked the entire time you’ve live somewhere. They were eager to see and do as much as they could while they were in town so we did it all. We explored the fabric market, had clothes tailored, tried new restaurants, went to the circus, decorated for Christmas, and traveled south to Hue and Hoi An.

Julianne and Erica traveled to Sapa and Ha Long Bay by themselves and then Erica left before Julianne so she’s missing from a few of these photos, but check out all the great shots Julianne got:

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In Hue, Bina, Julianne, and I found ourselves seeking shelter from the constant rain by ducking into one of the fanciest hotels in the whole town and getting pampered with foot massages. First we soaked in a Jacuzzi, then steamed ourselves in a sauna, then sat back and let the masseuses do their magic. It was all going so well until we started talking to them. Many creepy smiles later we were invited to eat noodles with them at 7:00am the next day. This plan was doomed from the start. We were all a bit dubious about our newfound friends and didn’t set the alarm. Lesson learned: When you’re being pampered, conversation is not relaxing.

V3
Aaron and Kate:

Aaron and Kate stayed with us for a few days while Julianne and Erica were with us and we had a packed house. It was cozy though, like a big slumber party. They had made several other plans to tour Vietnam and we were going to meet them again in the south but our paths didn’t cross again.

We did have a couple great meals though.

V4
Josh Shapiro:

Josh was all about the tailor. He came off the plane with a few issues of GQ tucked under his arm and an empty suitcase to take back all of his new clothes. He even left his old shoes behind after purchasing some new ones.

Josh only had a week so we did as much as possible. We even took a boat trip to Ha Long Bay for Christmas. Being the good Jewish boy that he is, he didn’t really care that it was Christmas, but that kind of made it all that much better. We didn’t really care that it was Christmas either! However I did exercise the spirit by sending out a few emails before we left.

The boat tour consisted of kayaking around Ha Long Bay, (Beautiful!!) swimming, eating tons of seafood, and ending up on Cat Ba Island. We ditched the rest of the tour and stayed on Cat Ba for the rest of the day, rented motorbikes and cruised around. We even witnessed an impromptu cockfight on the street.

The day before Josh left he and I went out for lunch. Bina had a work-related meeting and couldn’t join us, so we decided to do something that is traditionally a “mans” thing to do in Vietnam. (Although Bina is dying to go) We ate snake.

THE FOLLOWING ACCOUNT IS NOT FOR THE WEAK AT STOMACH. (Also, I’m sorry if anyone takes offense.)

Snake is eaten for virility mostly, but neither Josh nor I felt any more virile when we left. In fact we were so drunk off snake wine that we could hardly stay on the back of the Xe Oms. (Hired motorbike driver.)

First you pick your snake. This guy was a King Cobra.

Then they gut it, removing the heart while it’s still beating and the bile sack. The heart will beat for 15 minutes after it’s removed.

The bile and blood are mixed separately into rice wine and served. The heart is placed in the glass of the guest of honor, this case being Josh. (Lucky, right?)

After consuming both liquors, the snake is prepared in about 8 different dishes and served. We ate the meat, the skin, and just about everything else.

Throughout the meal we were given our choice of several other snake wines. In the end, we drank the Blood, Bile, Queen Copperhead, Poisonous Snake Heads, Snake Eggs, 9-Snake, and Snake Penis. (Yes, it’s true.)

This is by far the strangest meal I’ve ever had in my life. How did it taste? A lot better than it looked!

V4
Drew:

Drew is visiting right now and we’re getting ready to celebrate new Years Eve so you’ll here more about that later. We spent the better part of today hunting for Cuban Cohibas to smoke but ended up with a couple of cigarillos. We have a good lead on some real stogies for $5 a stick. That’s really expensive by Vietnamese standards, (not to mention Tijuana!), but that’s the low end of the going rate. They’re a luxury item anywhere. Happy New Year!

Thanksgiving and More

2005-12-06T09:15:00.000-08:00

Whoa did I get busy. It seems that between a steady flow of visitors and two newly acquired jobs I haven’t had much time to update my blog. But so as to not get even further behind, and to not miss anything, let me re-cap!

Job #1. I’ve been hired by the proprietors of a local restaurant / bar called Sloppy Joe’s to be a manager. My principal duties include planning and hosting evens as well as marketing and promotion. Here’s a picture of me hard at work drinking a yard of ale during one of the regular’s Birthday party.

Since I’ve been working at Sloppy’s I’ve organized a weekly “Dinner and a Movie” night, an evening with a DJ, a couple of parties, and most recently an art exhibit of a local Vietnamese artist who I’ve been friends with since I moved here in August. His name is Do Tuan Anh and we’re having an opening for his artwork this Friday. (More on that later.) I’ve also worked hard at changing the decor of the place. I had painters change the color of a couple of mint green walls that I just couldn’t stand to look at anymore and I removed a few ugly “trophy cases” that were taking up too much wall space. Here’s a picture of the bar from the outside (pre-paintjob) but you get the idea.

I have several more ideas planned for the bar including live music, but for now I’m still trying to feel out the identity of the place. It verges on hipster art-house but still sits somewhere between ex-pat sports bar and Hanoi-chic.

Job #2. I’m working for a state-owned multi-media company as a creative consultant and graphic designer. This is an interesting job because they’re more interested in my ideas as a foreigner than anything else. They’re thinking long-term and how Vietnam will be positioned when entering the wider global market, so they want new ideas. I’ve been working on a logo and site design for a new website that will be out sometime in February. The people I work with are wonderful people and the pay is good. However, I’m not only working for “The Man”, but the “Vietnamese Man”! So I have to be a little careful with just how creative I get.

Thanksgiving was a blast! Bina and I made pies, mashed potatoes, and pasta salad for 20-some-odd people! We did it in collaboration with a few of our other friends and hosted it at their apartment because it was bigger than ours. Of course, all birds have been outlawed in Hanoi so there was no turkey to be found, but we had Sloppy Joe’s make up a few tins of pork chops and we all pigged out. (No pun intended)

We invited several of our friends and were able to share the Thanksgiving spirit with a few people who had never celebrated the holiday. There were Vietnamese, Americans, French, Canadians, Spanish, German, and even an Indian guy from Malaysia at the meal. It was a truly family-like, feel good dinner, complete with an eloquently theatrical rendition of the history of Thanksgiving narrated by Bina herself. I could tell she was recalling most of it from early Ohio elementary school versions she’d had ingrained in her head, but she changed a few things toward the end and had to mention the eventual genocide of the Native American people. But that didn’t discourage the Vietnamese guests too much. They’ve been through equally tough times with pilgrim-like colonialists. Of course at one point someone yelled, “You bombed my country!” just to be funny.

But the most exciting news is our new visitors! We have some great guests with us now and more coming. I’ll be posting that soon!

Cat Ba Island

2005-11-15T22:33:00.000-08:00

Cat Ba Island was beautiful.

It was too late in the season for tourists to go to Cat Ba Island and the weather didn’t look like it was going to be all that great. But that’s what made it a perfect destination for us to get away from the city!

We took the train out of Hanoi to Hai Phong where we spent one night in a weird little hotel that gave us a room reminiscent of Ernie and Bert’s.

In the morning we took the ferry to Cat Ba.

The Island was so peaceful and the weather was perfect. We rented a motorbike and toured the island, stopping at a national park and a few beaches. Our hotel was clean, tacky and cheap and the staff were very friendly and helped us get our tickets for the ride home. We found a great restaurant too!

"Che" Bina

Andy the explorer

Remember Muddy Mud Skipper from Ren & Stimpy? Well it turns out after the success of the show he took his earnings and moved to Cat Ba for a permanent vacation.

The beautiful sunset on Cat Ba.

In our favorite Cat Ba restaurant.

The view of the pier from the restaurant at night.

"Cat Co Beach" the next day.

The hotel was so efficient that they employed all these ants to help clean the rooms. These little workers are seen here carrying away a cheez-um pringle crumb that we carelessly dropped.

In the mountains of the National Park.

Green Orange

2005-11-04T18:18:00.000-08:00

In Vietnam, the oranges are green!

Back in the SRV

2005-10-30T21:05:00.000-08:00

As we descended into the Hanoi airport a young Vietnamese guy sitting next to us got up to jabber with his buddy sitting behind us. They were standing up and looking out the nearest windows, delighted by their return to Mother Nam. They were standing when the plane hit the runway. As we taxied to the gate they were opening the baggage compartments and getting out their bags. Did they think we were on a train or a bus? What was this strange disregard for airline safety and passenger protocol that we’ve all come to rely on? Where was their sense of order?

This odd behavior only indicated that we were truly back in Vietnam. And oddly still, I was glad to be back. Of course this erratic display during landing was not the first sign of our return to Vietnam. When we boarded the plane we headed for our pre-selected seats, one next to a window, only to find an opportunistic Vietnamese guy who had already situated himself there. No big deal, we let him stay. The next sign came in the form of an alarming message from the captain that someone who had checked bags onto the flight had not shown up at the gate. So we had to wait for their bags to be removed. The temperature inside the plane was a humid 100 degrees, just like Vietnam, and we were going to be late. Our window-seat thief proceeded to shut the blind and fall asleep for the rest of the flight.

It’s hard to define what it is I like about Vietnam just yet. But I was eager to return. There are so many things that can drive you crazy, and often do, but there’s so much satisfaction in comprehending, and working with a society so difficult, and any sense of accomplishing the slightest assimilation is so rewarding that you forget about the hardships. It’s almost like an exercise that makes your muscles burn, and tires you out. It’s painful and exhausting, but in the end so very rewarding.

Bina had returned to the states at the end of August to seek proper medical care for her back. She finally received an accurate diagnosis in Wooster Ohio: A herniated disk in her lower back. Then she had a regiment of exercise and therapy to do until it got better. I spent September alone in Hanoi but joined her at the end of the month. (Thus the giant gap in my blog.)

I went to New York in time to attend my friends Tim and Linda’s wedding. (See Anita's pics on Pinknest )Then I went to Ohio to be with Bina. I spent a few weeks living in Cleveland with my friend Carolyn and her partner Heide. They own and operate an awesome café - Cafe Limbo - and an antiques shop in Shaker Heights. They also have a beautiful house full of art and antiques. It felt like I was living in a museum, but far more comfortable. Here’s a picture of the grapes growing on a giant trellis outside their back door. It was nice to be able to step outside and reach up for a handful of grapes whenever I pleased.

I found work with a small crew of housepainters and painted a house. The work was good and the money was much needed. It felt good to be outside and meditate on the repetitious work, although sometimes the boss wanted us to work faster so one couldn’t stay “zoned-out” for too long. (You’ll never escape The Man!!)

I spent a lot of time with Bina while she was getting better and even attended Navratri (an Indian holiday that celebrates Goddesses) with her family and friends at her uncle’s house. Here’s a picture of me with some Goddesses.

We stopped back in New York for a couple of days on our way back to Vietnam and juiced up on all the things we knew we were going to miss for the next five-or-so months. We ate our favorite foods and drank good scotch and wine. I even provoked a few New York-style arguments just to enjoy the flow of the English language. (Cursing is so beautiful in its subtle tones.)

So it’s been a whirlwind month, and now we’re back in Hanoi for Halloween. Bina and I both love Halloween so it’s hard to be spending it in a place that doesn’t even know what it is, but that’s ok, it’s not so different from many of the other things we take for granted. Anyway, we may still put on masks and go door-to-door asking for candy. We just have to figure out how to say “Trick or Treat”.

The Minsk Affair

2005-09-20T11:01:00.001-07:00

Since Bina left I’ve been having an affair. I had feared that being here alone would make me do some crazy things, as solitude tends to do with the restless, but I never expected this.

This is a Minsk motorcycle. My affair.

Everyone in Hanoi has a motorbike of some kind. Mostly they’re scooters or mopeds, but some people have motorcycles. The Minsk is an old Russian-built motorcycle that you’ll find all over Vietnam but mostly in the countryside. The people in the cities hate them. In fact, the Vietnamese really look down on the Minsk. Not only are they considered an old vestige of Russian influence, but they’re big, dirty, loud and smelly. However, there are a few Minsk loyalists that really can’t live without them, and this is what makes the Minsk so unique. In fact, the Minsk has it’s own fan club. It’s called the Minsk Club and it’s incredibly active.

Hanoi Minsk Club

I acquired this Minsk by calling a number posted in a café. The girl selling it said she would rent it if nobody wanted to buy it so I went to see it. My goal was to get out into the countryside and explore some of Vietnam’s more scenic wonders. I envisioned myself an Easy Rider with the winds of freedom blowing in my face, a romantic adventurer “finding myself” and being one with the road. (I still haven’t been out of the city limits.) But my starry-eyed dreams persist nonetheless.

I’ve recently decided to join Bina back in the states until she’s recovered from her back injury. I miss her too much and can’t continue this affair any longer. Despite all the Minsk can give, it’s no match for the allure of Bina. I haven’t told the Minsk yet. But it’s been a fleeting fancy for both of us and we must end it. But it has been a fun ride.

National Day!

2005-09-07T08:30:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was National Day here in Vietnam. National Day, September 2nd, encompasses several accomplishments for the Vietnamese including the ass-kicking of the French and Americans, as well as holding out from the Chinese for so long. It also includes celebrating Ho Chi Minh’s birth, death, first gray hair and the losing of his virginity. It covers 60years of these kinds of accomplishments and the Vietnamese celebrate it with more pride than you can imagine.

I started the day out early and went to see the parade. I shot a ton of pictures, which I’ve included here for your amusement. It was a great parade. It reminded me of the Independence Day parades we have in the states but without the bands and clowns. Instead, they paraded lots of communist propaganda and giant portraits of Uncle Ho himself. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good dose of communist imagery, full of proud working people championing solidarity, but give me a bright red fire truck instead any day!

Here's a float that depicts a great sense of symmetry.

More "Ho"s than a brothel!

This little kid was so funny. He was full of mischief and kept throwing a soda can into the parade to watch the marchers trip over it.

Long Live Uncle Ho!! (Even though he's dead.)

Lots of people turned out..

The proud armies.

Our wonderful monks!!

Big crowd on the parade route.

It's a parade!!

The intellectual elite.

Here's a picture of an old Green Beret that turned up for the parade. You can see him next to the other foreigner in the background. He's probably still registered as an MIA but doesn't realize it. Anyway, he was really enjoying the parade.

We love Ho!!

Goose-steppin'

More Ho.

The Silk Army.

"Put your conical hats in the air, wave 'em like you just don't care!"

A flag for patriotism.

Power to the people.

Chrystler Tower? No, a communist float!

The Lotus Club

2005-09-07T06:47:00.000-07:00

We met this guy named Peter at a house warming party for one of our friends. Nobody really knew whose guest he was, but he was very friendly and liked to talk. He invited us to go with him the next day to a Pagoda outside of town. Well, actually he just told us he was coming over to pick us up in the afternoon! It was a little suspicious and we couldn’t get a straight story out of him as to what, exactly, we were going to do at this Pagoda. "We're going to meet about helping disadvantaged people of Vietnam and discuss ways in which to help,” He said. “There’s going to be a party!” he quickly added in hopes of coaxing us. It felt like we were being recruited into a cult.

The next day Peter called early in the morning and we missed his call. But then he called twelve more times so we finally spoke with him and told him where we lived. We decided to take a giant leap of faith with this guy and let him take us to his cult leader and feed us the cool aid or whatever.

We met him downstairs and climbed into his van. Sitting in the back, crunched together like kidnapped children were three young girls who had also been recruited for the ride. We introduced ourselves but there was very little talking all the way to the Pagoda. Did THEY at least know what we were doing?

It seemed very strange and Bina and I had already decided that this was a big ruse to basically bring us foreigners to the Pagoda and ask us for money. We remained dubious until we got to know Monk Huan.

It turned out that this Pagoda we were brought to does some really incredible charity work with HIV / AIDS patients and was looking for more ways to help a broader range of people. They wanted our advice on how to make the program better. That was it, they wanted to pick our brains about how real NGO’s do it and what we think could be done to help. They even had a name for the “club”; it was called the Lotus Club, named after the lotus flowers that grew in the little pond next to the Pagoda.

It was a really nice place. Monk Huan was a real character too. He had this huge smile and seemed really peaceful. That is, until this cute little puppy walked into the room and was quickly escorted out by Monk Huans foot! I guess the dog wasn’t part of the club.

After the meeting was over we were given a tour of the Pagoda and fed a delicious vegetarian meal prepared by the monks. Vegetarian meals are rare in Vietnam so this was a real treat. One of the ideas the Monks have for the Lotus Club is to open a vegetarian restaurant on the grounds to help raise more money.

Bina and I have both agreed to help out the Lotus Club with different tasks. I’ll try to take some pictures of the Pagoda grounds sometime. In the meantime, here are a few pictures of the meeting and the meal.

The Nikko Hotel

2005-08-25T10:21:00.000-07:00

We’ve been spending a lot of time at the Nikko Hotel. Not because we’re staying there, but because they have an awesome outdoor swimming pool.

Bina’s been using it as therapy to help her with her back and I’ve just been coming along to enjoy the water and relaxation. We usually go in the evening, around 8:00pm, and are lucky enough to be alone most of the time. It’s so peaceful and quiet. It’s a shallow pool made for doing laps mostly, but there’s a hot tub next to it and beautiful palm trees lining one side. We’ve been to several hotel pools around Hanoi but Nikko is by far our favorite. It’s a Japanese hotel so it’s run very efficiently, cleanly, and with great attention to design and detail. There are Jacuzzis in both locker rooms and they always give us a bunch of towels and robes. There’s even a collection of disposable razors, shampoo, and combs available! It’s like a Metrosexual’s dream locker room!

Here are some pictures of the pool. They’re very dark but then, like I said, we only go there at night. The shadowy figure you see is Bina.

There are also a couple of restaurants in the hotel and one night we decided to try one. This is a picture of my (New England) Clam Chowder and Curry battered calamari! It was really delicious at first, but the more we ate the calamari the more suspicious we became of its freshness. Bina was sick the next day.

But regardless, we love our regular visits to the Nikko. The people at the hotel are really friendly. Of course, sometimes they’re a little too friendly. One time after we went swimming I was in the locker room changing and this Vietnamese guy was standing next to me getting dressed as well. All of the sudden he starts singing “Hello” by Lionel Ritchie! It was a little creepy but the thing is “Hello” is like a modern hit here in Hanoi. (For some strange reason. Other western pop hits include Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence” and anything by Celine Dion.) Anyway, so I didn’t really know what to say or do while I was standing there naked next to this guy crooning “Hello” so I just curled up into a ball and started weeping. No, just kidding. I got dressed and left after the second chorus. Despite my discomfort he did have quite a melodious voice. He’s probably a karaoke champion or something.

So if you come to Hanoi and you want to go swimming, the Hotel Nikko is your best bet.

Coffee!

2005-08-19T04:35:00.000-07:00

The coffee in Hanoi is some of the best I’ve ever had. They seem to pride themselves on a slow, flavorful cup of coffee that forces you to sit and relax while you dink it. I’ve had several cups of great coffee since I’ve been here and not one of them is exactly like the other. My favorite so far was at a small café called Café 129 a few blocks from my apartment. It was served in a regular size coffee cup but was only a small shot of coffee. An espresso in a big cup. Then the milk was served on the side. Usually they give you condensed milk already mixed in but this one was on the side. I was able to mix in exactly what I wanted and the flavor was incredible. I like my coffee hot so that’s primarily what I’ve been experimenting with. There are classic cappuccinos and lattes, but the hot espresso with condensed milk is my favorite so far.

Bina, on the other hand likes her coffee chilled. So here’s a small photomontage of a cup she had at this café earlier this week.

The coffee comes in a small drip container and placed over a glass of condensed milk. This picture shows the coffee already in the glass. It had been dripping for several minutes. Notice how the coffee and milk remain totally separated.

Then you mix it up.

Pour it into a glass of ice.

And voila! Ice Coffee.

Bamboo Juice

2005-08-15T19:51:00.000-07:00

There are a couple of interesting social drinking practices that happen here on a daily basis. My favorite, and one I completely understand, is called Bia Hoi and involves drinking beer from local breweries. There are several Bia Hoi places, equivalent to western bars, but mostly you see people on the sidewalk in makeshift little gatherings around small tables and little plastic stools that sit only about 6 inches high. Different proprieters have different brews and anyone can have a seat and drink for as long as they want. And it’s really cheap. Also, the beer starts flowing early in the morning and lasts all day long, but mostly it’s an afternoon or evening ritual.

The other social drinking practice is very similar in appearance but the drink is very different. I haven’t tried this one yet but hope to soon. The truth is I can’t stand the smell of it so I’m not brave enough just yet. It looks like fresh bamboo, and until I actual know what it is that’s what I’m going to refer to it as. I hear that bamboo juice is very medicinal and tastes “Delicious” and “Nutty”. (I think you’d have to be a bit “nutty” to drink it!! harhar) but that must be what it is. Bamboo juice!

People flock to it in droves and sit around drinking it at different times of the day. It’s so popular that there are places set up right next to each other, one right after the other serving it.

They have this machine that’s basically a giant press that they feed the bamboo through.

The juice is collected underneath and poured into glasses.

The scraps are then collected by different people from the more rural areas and taken away. I don’t really know what they do with the bamboo scraps but I imagine it’s very instrumental to some kind of basket weaving or chair making or something. The people here are really resourceful and recycle just about everything.

The Apartment.

2005-08-12T08:16:00.001-07:00

Our apartment is awesome. Bina picked it out before I came and I couldn’t have imagined a better place. It’s amazing. I’m actually struggling day to day with wanting to explore and wanting to just stay in and enjoy the place. It’s not a big apartment but it’s definitely the nicest place I’ve ever lived. There’s a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. Then a really nice big living room area with a sofa that turns into a bed (Note to visitors!) and a balcony that is more peaceful than a religious landmark. We recently bought a couple of chairs and a table to leave out there for morning coffee or late afternoon cocktails. It’s by far my favorite place in the whole apartment. Anyway, enough with waxing poetic about the living conditions. Here are some pictures:

Traffic-rific!!

2005-08-10T02:26:00.000-07:00

Hanoi is a wild city. It feels like it’s on the edge of modernization. It’s almost like they’ve been given all the things to be a modern city but they haven’t quite figured out how to use them yet. Because of this I feel like this is a very exciting place to be right now. There’s a great need for good graphic design yet not very many people know how to use the proper computer programs. And the traffic situation is unbelievable.

I’ve recently learned that Hanoi is a city known for its Moped traffic. I don’t remember reading this in any of the guidebooks but it’s obviously true. Someone told me that there’s an excess of 3000 new cars registered every month here yet the system hasn’t been fine-tuned enough to accommodate them all. It’s not at all what I was expecting to find here. I was thinking that Hanoi was going to be a quiet and quaint little city with an occasional surge of bicycle traffic that would be endearing and look old-worldly, but instead what I started to witness was a constant onslaught of rushing two-way traffic full of cars, mopeds, bicycles, and people, all ignoring each other’s right-of-way, totally disregarding the vulnerability of their fellow commuters, and not even the slightest hint of yielding to pedestrians. Is this what communism is about? Where’s the authority? Where are the traffic lights?

The best way to describe the street traffic here is to give you a mental image of New York City’s China Town at rush hour on a Saturday, but without any order. Imagine there are no traffic lights and no one giving a shit about anyone else. Imagine that you might be able to find relief on the sidewalks if they weren’t so jam-packed with parked mopeds and people sitting around blocking any hopeful passage through. Imagine trying to cross this mess of rushing traffic like Frogger but with only one life, jolting forward, stepping back, your adrenalin rushing as your eyes dart around for oncoming collisions. And imagine that this is what EVERY intersection is like! It’s an artform that these people have been honing from the beginning but unfortunately I think it’s getting worse. Even for them. I see accidents all the time. There’s a constant montage of horn-honking and motor revving, but no yelling and no real obvious display of aggravation. This is what’s so amazing about the whole thing; they totally accept that this is how it is and they don’t complain. Everyone looks so nonplused about the chaos and even docile when they’re sideswiped right off their bikes. Not even their expressions reveal the kind of frustration that would surely drive any westerner into an uncontrollable rage. Its rather Zen if you think about it. Like a great big living organism of trust. But maybe that’s being too overly optimistic. The streets here are scary, period.

Hell, screw the mental image, here’s a video:
TRAFFIC

I’m getting better at crossing the street every day. At this point I just start walking out into the oncoming traffic. I’ve learned that instead of looking at the flow of vehicles as one big obstacle, you have to look at each motorist individually, and cross their paths one at a time. With this approach you end up in the middle of it all using slower more deliberate movements rather than quick, bold, panicking gestures. Kind of like a dance. Not a very graceful dance, but a dance nonetheless.

Getting There is Half the Fun

2005-08-04T22:16:00.000-07:00

On the flight from New York to Malaysia I heard an unexpected stop mentioned. Stockholm. “We’re going to Sweden?” I thought. How could it be? There was never any mention of Sweden when I bought my ticket. I don’t want to go to Sweden. I have no interest in being in Sweden. Oh well, here comes Sweden. Of course we were only there for a couple of hours so I didn’t really see anything. However the airport bathrooms were for single occupancy only, which, if that’s any indication of how the Swedes value privacy in the restroom I can’t complain. But what a major inconvenience for two hundred plus people having to use the toilet all at once. But alas, there must be a method to their madness. After all, I did witness one of their public “Smoking booths” which resembled an oversized, open-face phone booth with a small air suction vent in the ceiling. It was quite an ingenious contraption. People were standing around inside smoking away while their billowing clouds tapered off into a small fan above their heads. Why don’t we see more of these all over the place? Chalk one up for Sweden!

After we were airborne again I settled back into my tiny one-foot squared space and tried to relax. Once the passenger in front of me leaned back there was no room left for even the thought of relaxation. I could barely fit the thoughts of boredom and annoyance within my allotted space let alone my own feet. The check-in clerk at the airport had graciously offered me whatever seat I wanted and I said “Window”. That was a mistake. You should never ask for a window seat on such a long flight. Inevitably you’ll be sandwiched in by other people who want to sleep and will be totally unsympathetic to your restless needs for frequent visits to the rest of the plane. This arrangement was no exception. It also seemed like the ticket agent had played a practical joke on me because my window seat, although on the wall of the plane, was not next to a window. It was one of those few seats along the side that can’t afford a window due to its important positioning within the reinforcement structure of the aircraft. This compromise also means that the slight indentation you get at a window seat was gone. This precious two-inch reservoir would have been greatly appreciated for the twenty some-odd hours I was sitting there. I thought I could tough it out until we switched planes in Malaysia but to my disbelief it was the same seat. Different plane, but same seat. That’s when I knew the ticket agent was fucking with me.

Malaysia looked like a beautiful country from inside the airport. It reminded me of Hawaii. It looked hot and humid in that fresh tropical way that makes you want to get outside and be lazy. I couldn’t tell what time of day it was even though I knew it was six o’clock. Was it six o’clock in the morning or six o’clock at night? It was dark and I couldn’t remember which was more likely in this part of the word, darkness at six in the morning or at night. So I waited until the light changed. When the sun came up I re-synched my bearings and began exploring. What I found in the airport was very different from what I was seeing outside. It looked like a mall in Anytown USA. There was a McDonalds, a few lame-ass gift shops and a Starbucks. I decided to sit at Starbucks and see if I could get my computer on-line. My battery was quickly running out but I was able to find a free wireless signal that let me get online and check email and such. I had about six hours to kill in Malaysia so when my computer finally died I started wandering around again.

I found a giant candy store which puzzled me because Bina had told me that there was no chocolate in Southeast Asia. I had been smuggling a small package of precious Twix bars and wondered what she was talking about since here I was in front of one of the largest displays of worldwide candy anyone could ever find. But upon further inspection I realized that although many stores in Southeast Asia will stock M&M’s, Snickers, Cadbury, etc etc, Twix is a rare find. (Note for those planning to visit.)

At this point in the journey I was getting exhausted and quite loopy. I had been fed more times than I imagined an airline would do. There was a constant flow of beer, wine and water. There was a breakfast, then a lunch, then a dinner, then another breakfast, then, a dinner? A breakfast? Was that lunch again? What the hell time is it? What time of day am I suppose to pretend it is now? Shit, I’m so wired on coffee I forgot how tired I’m supposed to be. We chased the sun for a while and lost. But it had been perfect daylight in Sweden. Luckily Vietnam and Malaysia are only an hour off so when we entered Vietnam’s airspace it was early afternoon.

I was glad to get out of the plane. Now I had to gather my things and begin my new life in Vietnam. I was worried about my luggage because upon check-in I was told it was too heavy. I could either repack it there in the airport or pay the hefty fines. I didn’t want to stress about it too much so I paid the fines. But this left me thinking that maybe it wouldn’t make it all the way. Maybe the baggage workers would get mad at this big dumb American suitcase and throw it on a plane to Russia or something. I stood there waiting for my giant suitcase to come around and it seemed to take an eternity. I saw Bina outside the gate waiting. She was such a beautiful sight. And then my bag appeared. I went through customs without a hitch and had my passport approved easily. Then I left the gate and out into the hot humid Vietnam day. Bina hailed a cab and we were off. I had spent the past day or so in air conditioning and recycled air that I wasn’t use to the humidity and oppressive heat. But it still felt good. I had arrived easily, safely, and relatively quickly, so there was nothing to complain about. I was now a resident of Hanoi.