Good Morning, Vietnam!

Hello All!

Well, I am back after my whirlwind tour of Vietnam and Cambodia with one unexpected souvenir...a sinus infection. Ah-dorable. I have meds and I started taking them, so I will be better soon, but right now I feel poopy. My sweet roommate Lisa brought me dinner, though, so I will rally and try to post a day or two of the spring break adventure. No promises, though.

For Spring Break (or recess week, as they say over here), I wanted to go to Cambodia. Badly. So I posted on the NUS Law Exchange facebook wall, asking if anyone else wanted to go there, too. Mei responded, and we met up to make plans. She was essentially a blind date, until we discovered we had some classes together. Even so, I did not know her (or her friend Adhiti, who later joined the trip) very well at all. From that tenuous beginning, we bonded, and by the end of the trip we declared ourselves "Besties for Life"!


At the airport leaving Singapore. Note this is the last time we will look non-sleep deprived.

 On the plane to Saigon (which is what everyone calls it still, HCMC is just the official name), I listened to "Miss Saigon" on my iPod and realized a)it's a beautiful musical, if overwrought, and y'all critics just need to CAN IT ALREADY about the helicopter, and b) most, of not all, of my historical knowledge is garnered from musicals. This could present a problem, and perhaps it already has. War is, to the best of my understanding, not a lot like a musical. Need to work on that.

Once arrived in Saigon, we booked our night-bus to Nha Trang (the beach we were going to visit for two days) and wandered around the city. It's a bustling metropolis that looks like a slightly-low budget version of Chicago. Motorcycles (called motos) outnumber cars 10 to 1 so crossing the street is taking your life in your hands. There are no traffic lights-traffic just flows to a rhythm that sadly was unaccessible to me. You just wait for a moment, then walk calmly across the street. The secret is not to dart-that will get you hit. If you walk at an even tempo, the motos will see you and avoid you. Mostly. But try to run and they won't have time to react. It's very counterintuitive as a pedestrian and I have to admit a bit unnerving. But, Saigon! Loud, brassy, sweltering, neon, busy Saigon. We were here.

Touting is a practice common in Vietnam/Cambodia, and it sucks. People shout after you, follow you, even cross the street (see above) to sell you something. You can't even look at a store without someone touching your arm asking, "you like? I give you special price. How much you want? I sell cheap." I know these people are trying to earn a living, but it's really annoying (and sometimes scary) to be constantly bombarded with walking, talking advertisements. Picking a restaurant involves turning down six people offering menus. I felt at various times on the trip like a celebrity being stalked by paparazzi. I have a new appreciation for the appeals of the stars to be left alone. It's not fun to be verbally harassed day and night. You dread walking down the street because you don't want to be hassled. It makes you not want to buy anything, even something you need.

But, this was only the first day. I would not know this until later. The first day, we were enticed inside a nail salon by a woman who offered "manicure only one dollar! Very cheap in Vietnam!" It was, in fact, very cheap in Vietnam. Vietnamese money is called "dong" (which made me giggle EVERY time I said the word) and 20,000 dong is 1 USD. I did a lot of math in my head to convert dong to dollars over the week, and I was constantly amazed at how cheap things were. We ate like kings for very little money. We all got manicures and pedicures, for a total bill of about $10 (for the three of us). The woman running the store was very young (early 20s) and her English was very good. I wanted to ask her lots of questions about the War (it's a capital-letter war in my head), but I realized that a nail salon was probably not the place to proposition a stranger about the War, and also that she was probably too young to remember it, anyway. The young people of Vietnam are very different from the older generation. They have never known a Vietnam without American cultural influence, and the divide that results is a vast one. Still, even though I did not harass this poor girl, I yearned to know more about Vietnam, the old Vietnam. I felt responsible, in some way, for the War, and I wanted to hear from people, not guidebooks, about how they felt about Americans. The South Vietnamese were technically our allies, why we went over there. Did they resent us? Respect us? Were they angry we failed? Betrayed we'd left them behind when Saigon fell? Grateful we tried at all? I wanted to know. And I didn't think I was going to get to find out.

For dinner, we had pho, the famous Vietnamese noodle soup. Mei is Chinese (although not from China. People across Asia did not believe her when she said she was American. It became a great joke), so she used chopsticks to eat the noodles, then a spoon for the broth. Adhiti did the same (she's from India and somehow can use chopsticks, too). I decided that it was now or never to learn how to use chopsticks. I didn't want to look foolish in front of the cool kids. I had made some inroads on the chopsticks front in Singapore, but I was far from adept. Before leaving the USA, I had never successfully used chopsticks. Today, by some miracle, something clicked in my head. I was able to wield those darn sticks with considerable dexterity, if not grace. Just another accidental skill I have picked up here.

After dinner, we hopped on the bus that would take us to Nha Trang, a beach glamourized by LP as "a GI favorite". Why, then, was it TEN HOURS away from Saigon? I remarked rather snarkily that perhaps the US might have fared better in the war if they had expended more resources on battle and less on ferrying GIs to and from the beach! That said, the night bus was cool. We had our own little mini beds that reclined fairly far back, and little blankets. The bus driver drove like a bat out of hell, nearly making us airborne over several bumps. I fell asleep quickly, more to avoid thinking about our speed than anything else. Horns here are sort of an all-purpose instrument. They honk to say hello, honk to pass, honk to alert to danger, honk just for the heck of it. The streets of the region are a symphony of honks. Despite all that, I did doze off, waking only to glimpse the sunrise out the window of my bus.

Of all the pictures of Nha Trang, this is my favorite. I snapped it moments after arriving, which was 7am on Saturday. The bus unceremoniously dumped us at the Nha Trang bus station, and we embarked blearily into the blinding sun clutching all our belongings like refugees. We dumped our bags at the hostel and stumbled towards the beach. You know when you're near a beach, and you can smell it? You're not really sure where it is, but you can feel that it's there? Well, we turned a street and there it was. The sun reflecting off the water in that just-after-dawn way made the water look like jewels. It was dazzling and oh-so-invitng. We promptly secured a spot and commenced sleeping, er, tanning. Sometimes it's hard to tell which is which, you know? Mei took this picture of me and said people were staring. I guess there are not a ton of white folks on the beach, and the ones that were there were hiding under umbrellas. I was determined, however, to soak up the sun.

We eventually returned to the hostel, checked in, changed our clothes, and returned to the beach. Nha Trang is a very touristy town, and there were tons of restaurants with "Western food". I went on a quest to find perfect pizza. We have pizza in Singapore, but it's all thin crust and just not satisfying. I want Jumbo Slice! Or at least Papa Johns. (I also miss Taco Bell. I was just on the phone with Victoria and she was staying at a hotel near a Taco Bell. I wanted her to shove a taco into her laptop so that it teleported and appeared, Willy Wonka style, here in Singapore. God, I miss Taco Bell. Anyway.)
My first few attempts at Pizza Perfection were not too succesful, but I did have fun trying :)

That night, we had dinner at a restaurant called "Good Morning, Vietnam". My dad was joking about GMV and I said it would be a deportable offense to reference the film. This is totally not true. There are hats, tees, and, of course, the restaurant. Which is an Italian restaurant, by the way.

After dinner, we returned to the hostel, Backpacker's House. Since many places in SE Asia don't have a ton of nightlife (at least safe nightlife), many hostels have little bars/clubs /restaurants attached to them. Backpacker's was no exception, and we all had a drink while mingling with our fellow travelers. We also played Jenga. It turns out that Jenga is international. There's this thing people do at hostels, which is write all over the walls. This graffitit is at times inspirational (or at least faux-inspirational) and at times lewd, but always interesting to peruse. What is it about these people, who travel with the least amount of belongings possible, that makes them want to leave their mark wherever they go? It's as if, lacking a home and discernible roots, they nonetheless want to leave a trail. It's very fascinating, to say the least.

The next morning, we wanted more beach! Backpacker's had a free breakfast, which was either eggs or cereal. Not sure how the eggs would turn out, I ordered the cereal. For some reason, this took three times longer to arrive than the eggs. We all wondered how it could possibly take so long to pour milk over some cocoa krispies. For the rest of the trip, anytime we waited for food, we joked it must have been cocoa krispies-flavored.

It was another perfect day at the beach, but my thoughts were anything but sunny. The night before, I had dreamed bloody, graphic war dreams. I was despairing that I was going to spend my spring break lazing about and miss the Important Cultural Interaction I had been craving. I felt like there was a Hidden Vietnam somewhere, and I was going mad searching for it.  As I paddled in the surf, I tried to let go but these thoughts held my fast. Anyone who knows me has seen me in the Thinky mood-it's not pretty. I wanted to enjoy my trip but I also wanted to pay attention. I saw these little girls holding hands, giggling as they jumped in the waves, I thought-here are some kids who don't even know about the war yet. They are just children and they are having fun. I should be having fun, too! However, my Thinks persisted.

We decided to go on an island-hopping cruise to tour the surrounding islands. I gazed out of the back of the boat, hoping that something, anything, would make sense. The boat's speakers were blasting some silly music, and out of nowhere the Grease megamix started! As I taught my skeptical girlfriends how to do the Greased Lightnin' dance (lawnmower! Saturday Night!), I felt my spirits lifting. Here I was, in Vietnam, twenty-five and on vacation. The problems of the war were not mine. The weight of the world world was not, in fact, on my shoulders, and it was self-indulgent to think that they were. Problems would always exist, but I might only make it to Vietnam once. I needed to enjoy myself. I thanked John for sending me this message, sipped my water, and smiled for the first time in what felt like days.

At one of the islands, we had lunch. The crew kept producing plates upon plates of food. From where, we didn't know. I was dubious at first, but it all turned out to be really delicious. Everyone makes a huge deal about Singapore food, but I have personally enjoyed food more at each and every place I've visited.  I don't see what all the Singapore fuss is about. When Tom is here, I'll be eating at nicer restaurants, so perhaps I will have mmore appreciation for SG. Oh well. There were no forks at all, so I was pleased that I had mastered chopsticks a few days before. As we were digesting, the crew morphed into a "boyband", complete with their best Stewpot imitator. They played songs from many countries, and an old man sang along with the Korean tune. It was very sweet, and special, watching these young Koreans look up with admiration at this gentleman,  whose voice was aged but strong and clear. I think everything on the boat realized they were witnessing something special. All was quickly forgotten, however, when they opened the "floating bar". I dived off the ship to grab my thimblefull  of Vietnamese fruit wine, which I drank while holidng a float. La vida loca, it was not. But the sun was brigth and the breeze was fine. I will remember that day for a long time.

For dinner, we went to an LP-recommended spot, Lanterns. It's a restaurant that teaches street kids how to work in the hospitality industry. It also has obscenely delicious food. I had my best meal of the trip, pork with pineapple in a clay pot. It's hard to describe, except for the fact is was amazing. Really really amazing. Mei said it was a mouth-orgasm, and I think I will agree with her. Who knew supporting a good cause could be so delicious?

The above shot is of the Sailing Club, another LP pick. It was advertised as "mayhem". However, as you can see, there was no mayhem of any kind. There was an intimate wedding reception for a middle-aged couple, and us. The night was saved, however, by the discovery of the Jam Jar. It's a plastic jar (like a peanut butter jar) with three shot of either vodka or rum and a juice mixture of your choice. I had rum and pineapple juice, and it was awesome. And $2. We were going to have more, but I was snookered after one, so we left. Satisfied that we had brought the only mayhem SC would see that night.

The next day, or last day, we went to the Lousianne Brewhouse, a "Western-style" beach club. Theyt had showers, a pool, poolside bar, and cushy poolchairs. For the price of a chair rental, you could stay all day and use their facilities. Since we were getting on a bus directly from the beach, we thought this would be a smart move. However, after hanging with the locals, it was a shock to see so many white people. This was where the Europeans partied, and we all felt a little weird to be among the overtly touristy crowd again. However, the day was fair and the water refreshing. Besides, we had Saigon to conquer the next day! We had a wonderful, relaxing time on the beach, but there was still much to do before we returned to Singapore.

And all of those things, dear reader, will be chronicled soon. I know I am updating lazily and I'm sorry. I've been sick. But I will post the rest soon! Love you all, and until next time, sayonara suckers!