Alright, the first new item of business is T and I have arrived safely in Hong Kong--we actually arrived a couple of days ago, but I couldn't get to the Internet before now. Sorry about that. Hong Kong is crazy. There are people on the streets all night and day, many of them with luggage. We're staying in a seedy place in Tsim Sha Tsui, a seedy kind of district. I know when I picture Hong Kong, I picture Hong Kong Island, the glittering skyscrapers and business district and colonial remnants. Tsim Sha Tsui is in Kowloon, which is actually attached to the mainland, and it's China, or at least how I picture China--or at least how I picture Shanghai. Not to say that China is seedy, but, well, um, you get the idea. Actually, I had better rescind that implication about China because I am waiting for a Chinese visa, and they may be monitoring my blog for anything that would make me unworthy of visiting their noble country. Incidentally, Tsim Sha Tsui is where the infamous Chungking Mansions is--right next to the Mirador Mansions where we are staying.
So, we spent the better part of yesterday, our first day in Hong Kong, taking care of how to get to Vietnam. It isn't going to be easy. We're going overland through China--thus the need for the Chinese visa. I suspect this is going to be a real challenge, but maybe not. Maybe Chinese transportation systems are far more advanced than I think they are. We did also eat a lot. And we went antique shopping. Well, window shopping. We don't have that kind of money, but the stuff for sale was incredible.This cybercafe here in seedy Tsim Sha Tsui is halal. That means that the chicken salad sandwich and coffee they are about to serve me are prepared and served in keeping with Islamic law. This is a first for me, and it's especially exciting to have my first halal food in a cyber cafe in Hong Kong. Last night was another first for me. We ate ribs at Tony Roma's. We had a hankering for big slabs of meat, and Tony Roma's is known for those, so we went. I've never eaten Tony Roma's before. It was pretty tasty though, I have to admit. So far as I know, however, it was not prepared in keeping with the laws of Allah.
The other big news, and this is really the biggest news because it is going to affect everything. I'm pregnant. I was intending to not tell anyone until we got back because I didn't want anyone to worry. Your first trimester is perhaps not the best time to travel, but I went to the doctor right before we left and it seems everything is going fine, and I even got to see the baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. We're very excited. But I'm also very, very tired all the time, and suffering intermittent bouts of nausea. So it is going to affect our itinerary. All the details of just how it is going to affect our itinerary have not yet been decided, but basically we can't do as much or see as much with me this tired. So, there are going to be necessary amendments so that I can get enough rest and so on. Frankly, as tired as I've been lately, the thought of doing a six-hour trek makes me want to roll over and die. Anyway, I don't want to worry anyone--I just wanted you to know.
Huh, halal chicken salad sandwiches taste just like heathen chicken salad sandwiches. Interesting.
Today we don't have much of a plan, but we are going to take the cruise to see the night view of Hong Kong Island later. Tony Roma's was expensive (about the same price as two nights at our dumpy hotel), so we have to stay on the cheap today. It's actually not that hard to eat cheaply in Hong Kong--you just have to know where to look. Tomorrow, we're going to go pick up my Chinese visa (T doesn't need one, being Japanese, although you might think it would be the other way around considering America has never actually invaded China, while Japan has), and then we're going to Macau for the day, and then we begin our exciting overland journey through southern China. Just call me Marco Polo.
I have to admit that I am not immediately gripped by Hong Kong. I think I am not enough of a modernist to really dig Hong Kong. Macau on the other hand...oh, I AM intrigued. Macau, as all former Portuguese colonies (and, sorry, Portugal itself), reeks of all things un-modern, of past glory, of backwater. For me, that's a definite indicator of potential relaxation and happiness. I cannot wait to land in Macau.
I'll write again as soon as I can. Possibly tomorrow from Macau. I don't know about Internet cafes in China, but there are bunches of them in Hanoi apparently, so at the very least I will write again upon arrival in Hanoi.
I hope everyone is doing well. Thinking of you all, between dodging Indian (or Pakistani maybe) salesmen of fake Rolexes. Long live capitalism.
Monday, August 02, 2004
vive l'indochine
Ok, let's see if we can get this to work today. Just forget about the trip from China. I will just say this: do not EVER do what we did, cross from Hong Kong to Vietnam through China. It isn't fun, it isn't an adventure, you will not grow as a person. You will merely suffer. That being said, we did learn a few things, key among them that apparently wherever you go in the world, Lipton tea is available (much like Coca-cola). Also, at the train station in Guangzhou, the only beer we saw for sale was, of all things, Pabst Blue Ribbon. Who would have thunk it? I may add some of our other experiences later on, but now let's just get caught up on Hanoi, shall we?
When we were going through passport control to come into Vietnam, I noticed a long list of things that you may not bring into the country. It included the usual things, mostly, along with a few that only a communist country would think of. But the prohibited item that most stood out to us was "social order and security". That is a direct quote from the customs form. Having now spent a couple of days in Vietnam, I think I understand: they prefer a (mostly) controlled chaos.First there are the bus systems. We noticed this in China, as well. The bus does leave from a specified point at a specified time, but then it stops all the time to let more people on, no matter if there are available seats or not. Some of these people are just standing, basically, in the middle of a sugar cane field with no house or other edifice in sight, yet there they are, waiting for the bus. These people can and will seemingly just wait all day until whenever the bus gets there. And they always seem to have a collection of strange belongings with them. One girl had a large bundle of bras. One man had a bucket of spare shoes. One fellow carried some sort of electronic component and seriously got off in the middle of nowhere. What use for electronics could he have in a rice paddy? I don't know, but this kind of thing is the norm here, and while there are so many elements of unpredictability about it, there is a kind of system as well. People seem to know that a bus will be coming and will eventually get where it says its going. How they know this, I have no idea. But they do.
Hanoi is wonderful. While the French may have been morally wrong to colonize Vietnam, aesthetically it was a great triumph. A great deal of colonial architecture survives here in Hanoi, much of it painted in tropical colors, and the combination of French and Asian really works. Plus, you can do cool things like eat, for example, what I ate last night: a croque monsieur (a French-style grilled ham and cheese basically) with a "banana flower salad", with shreds of beef, chilis, basil, peanuts, and fish sauce out the wazoo. It was a great meal, truly great. And it cost, with a lime juice to drink, about $4. That's fairly expensive by Hanoi standards, but T and I have mostly been sticking to a slightly more expensive level of eats. For one thing, I get nauseous a lot, and some of the street stall food has been just not something I could handle. Plus, we really want to be careful of my health now--it's one thing to get sick from street food when you're otherwise normal. It's another thing when you also have the nausea and all that from being pregnant.
Anyway, so we're staying in Hanoi's Old Quarter, which has a very New Orleans French Quarter feel about it, except the traffic which is crazy beyond anything I have ever seen before. It's mostly motorbikes, and they are fast and constant. There are very few traffic lights. To cross the street, you have to watch for a gap at your starting point; then you walk slowly across, through the traffic, which honks and swerves around you. You have to go slowly or else they can't swerve around you, and you have to watch because sometimes they can't swerve for other reasons. It was unnerving at first, but we've gotten used to it.
Also, I never noticed a lot of people grilling chicken feet in New Orleans. Maybe I just didn't look hard enough.
Yesterday, we spent most of the day doing routine sightseeing in Hanoi. First we hit the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum and museum. In the grand manner of communist leaders, his body is preserved and on display in a giant gray monument. It was cold inside, but he looks pretty good considering. It was sort of a creepy deal, really--he had asked to be cremated, and I can fully see why. Who wants people gawking at you in perpetuity? Anyway, the neighboring Presidential Palace grounds is lovely. The French did a good job on that sucker--it was the home of the governor of Indochina, back in the day. Then Ho Chi Minh lived there, briefly, and opened the gardens to the public. Then he moved into successively smaller and simpler houses, though on the same grounds. They are all still there for viewing, along with his "war room", where he met with the army leaders during the wars to discuss strategy. It's just basically a screened-in porch with a big table and chairs inside.
The Ho Chi Minh museum is pretty interesting, if a bit pretentious. Instead of just presenting the relics related to his life and work, it makes everything into an artwork. So, for example, there is a big sculpture of a volcano representing the Vietnamese people getting ready to explode into revolution in 1945. It's history through abstract art. It's more than a little hard to follow unless you're really up on Vietnamese history and symbolism. One room has these huge pieces of plastic fruit; apparently, fruit represents youth and freshness and is intended to symbolize the younger Vietnamese generation who will lead the country into the future. Um, ok. Yeah, I got that from the banana.
Then we went to the Temple of Literature. This is a Confucian temple, one of the few left, built in the tenth century, and apparently still original. In 1010, it became the first college, i.e., place of higher learning, in Vietnam. At that time, it seems Vietnam already had in place some kind of exams, and the boy with the highest exam score from each village was entitled to study at the Temple of Literature. This went on until the nineteenth century, when it was finally abandoned as a university. All the names of all the students are recorded on giant stone stelae, along with their village name, and these stelae rest on the backs of stone turtles. It seems the turtle is one of four sacred animals in Vietnam, the other three being the dragon, the phoenix, and what they call the "unicorn", though it's actually a lion of sorts. Interesting that, of the four sacred animals, the turtle is the only one known by science to actually exist. The turtle symbolizes longevity (which means the phoenix symbolizes...?).
Later in the evening, we went to the water puppets. I had been wondering "why water?" earlier, and they answered my question there. Because it looks cool. Just joking. I guess it's because when it started it was a form of entertainment during the flood season when the rice paddies were all flooded. That brings up a lot of other questions, like where did everyone sit? and was there Pabst Blue Ribbon available?, but what the heck. Anyway, at first, I thought it was going to be a long story, but it wasn't. It was a series of shorts, not really related. Most of them were apparently intended to be funny, and probably were if you could understand Vietnamese, and you could imagine a bunch of rice farmers and their kids really getting a kick out of these, at a time when there was no Cartoon Network. A few represented some kind of Vietnamese legend. In one, two phoenixes come out and do a mating dance, and then suddenly a big egg pops up from underwater, and then a short while later, the egg vanishes and a little baby phoenix comes out. One showed the rice planting process; another involved a man fishing for frogs (maybe that's where the French learned to eat frogs?); another involved two old people talking--the wife seems to be nagging him about something, and he keeps getting bit on the butt by some sort of clever fox-like creature. The music, which was live (the musicians sing some of the parts for the characters too), was awesome. Vietnamese bluegrass. Alright, it wasn't bluegrass, but it was kind of similar. For one thing, there is a banjo-esque instrument involved, and the rhythms were similar, as was the singing style, though not so nasal. I loved the music, and I was pretty impressed with how in synch the puppets and the musicians stayed. If you ever have a chance to see this water puppetry, I really recommend it.
Today we're just hanging out in Hanoi. It's a very street-oriented city, so we're just sort of milling about, shopping, drinking juices, and soaking up the atmosphere. Tonight, at about 8:30 or so, we're leaving to go up north, and from then on, we will be incommunicado for a few days. Expect us back in three or four days. We will be doing some trekking across rice paddy country, some boating, some ethnic-minority-market-going, and one night of homestay. It should be interesting, and we changed the schedule a bit to make it more appropriate for an easily-fatigued newly-pregnant gal like me. T is off right now buying us some good rain gear. And we will be with a very reputable guide service the whole time, so there is really no need to worry. We have super-strength mosquito repellent to boot--one thing I don't need right now is dengue fever.
Anyway, time to go. There are souvenirs to be bought and tropical fruit juices to be drunk. But we are thinking of you all, and having a safe and happy time here.
Thursday, August 05, 2004
sunburnt in sapa
OK, I am going to keep this short because I don't know if this will even go through. This is the slowest Internet connection I've had since 1992, and I'm getting very tired of it. Granted, I am in the mountains of north Vietnam, but if they are going to charge you for something, they ought to make sure it is minimally usable. But, like so many other things in this country, it is probably designed to rip off tourists. Gee, do I sound bitter?
Alright, so we got to Sapa, and then spent our first day going by jeep over extremely rough roads to a traditional Flower Hmong (they're an ethnic minority group in this area) market at Coc Ly. The market was pretty interesting, but it was really hot and dusty, and the jeep ride was doing neither of us much good. Also, if you want to buy anything at that market, assume that the price they just quoted you is doubled for tourists--if they won't come down to half the quoted price or nearly half, just walk away.
Anyway, I think due to the jeep ride, that evening in Sapa at our hotel, I started having trouble with my belly (cramping, some bleeding--not good), so we decided not to go on the trekking and homestay tour. Instead, we have been in Sapa all this time doing virtually nothing, because there is not much to do here. The first day we just stayed in our hotel most of the day, resting and just going out to eat occasionally. I told T he could go out, but he wouldn't, so we were just bored together. I read The Quiet American.
Yesterday, I was feeling better so we went for a short hike. It's a trail down into that valley to see a waterfall. It's very steep. We didn't take much sun protection (i.e., hat) because we would have sworn it was going to rain; it was very cloudy when we left. Anyway, it sure enough cleared up later, and we both got burnt. Obviously, I got more burnt than T, but it's not too bad--just bad enough to be annoying, really. I did use some sunscreen, but we are at a very high elevation so I probably should have applied it twice.
Sapa is a quiet little mountain town that has become a tourist hub. There are a lot of shops here selling the local Hmong and Dzay embroidery, hotels, and eateries--even a pub. Everybody knows us in this little town--most tourists don't stick around this long because most of them come for the trekking, not to just hang out.
The town is overrun with Hmong and Dzay women selling their crafts. As soon as you step outside your hotel, you start getting hounded by them to buy their blankets and pillow covers and whatnot. They do beautiful work, but one can only buy so much--and one doesn't necessarily like the pressure of being surrounded by women and girls saying "buy from me, buy from me". Sometimes they even grab you as you walk by. As you sit in a restaurant eating your lunch, they come up to the doors and say "hello, buy from me buy from me". It seems to be the Sapa mantra. Most of the young ones speak reasonably good English. The younger ones, see, have come to realize that if you spend some time talking to the tourists, following them around and asking questions about their family and so forth, then the tourist is more likely to buy. It's true, I'm sure, but I don't like it. Anyway, all the Black Hmong ladies in town now know my name, and so as I'm eating they yell into the restaurant, "Hello, Gin, you buy from me". At first it seems colorful. After a few days, it's just really annoying. We don't have room for a blanket, no matter how lovely and cheap, in our backpack--nor do we have a desire for a blanket. Another trick is they get you to say "maybe tomorrow I'll buy a bracelet from you", and then if you don't buy actually buy it, they put the big guilt trip on you like you're a big liar. They understand English well enough that they know what you actually said; they also seem to know that white tourists guilt pretty easily. I am cynical, aren't I? I think, like I said, for most tourists here, it just seems like a colorful part of "The Sapa experience", but if you're here for a few days and cannot leave your hotel with looking around like a spy to see if there are any Hmong waiting outside for you (and there usually are) or cannot eat a meal without listening to the "buy from me" mantra, it gets very old, very tiresome. Lord, I am weary.
There is one place that seems to be safe from the Hmong. I don't know why, but there are never any around there, so we eat there a lot. Actually we eat there a lot because the food is cheap and delicious, and it is also for a good cause. It is called Baguette et Chocolat--they have them in Hanoi as well, maybe also in Saigon but I'm not sure. These cafes not only make the best pain au chocolat you've ever eaten (for 6000 dong--about 40 cents), but also serve as a school and training grounds for street kids and kids of invalids and so on. These are kids who wouldn't have much of a chance at anything else, but they get trained as pastry chefs or managers, they learn some English, they learn how to keep records on a computer, and a bunch of other useful skills for working in the restaurant/hotel business, and apparently they have a high placement rate. All of this, and no getting harangued by Hmong.
Anyway, tonight we go back to Hanoi by night train. I am a little worried about the ride back to the train station--as I recall it was a bit bumpy. My condition seems to have stabilized for now, but I am freaking out thinking that if we encounter another bumpy ride, the whole thing is going to go. Wish me luck. There's nothing else I can do except go back like this, so I just have to hope for the best. After this, we will be in Hanoi one day, then we are going to Halong Bay. Should be OK after that.
Huh, didn't I say that I was going to keep this short?
