Feb 14, 2004
In Korea
I am going to Vietnam today. For the first time I am doing something more exciting than my romantically involved friends. I should still be in bed asleep. I was dancing until 2:00 this morning. I started at 8:00 last night and danced nearly the whole 6 hours. I made a promise that I have to keep so that is what is keeping my eyes open and is moving my achy body.
I hung with my friend Derek and two of his friends last night. We met for dinner in Hongdae and then went to NB for hip-hop dancing. One of his friends is a REALLY interesting guy. Over dinner we talked about hip-hopin Korea, hip-hop artists in general, the impact of Korea's history on the current art community, Ti-Chi, Yoga...I haven't had such stimulating conversations with any Korean guys until I met Derek and his friends. It has been very refreshing. I get the distinct feeling that these guys have no other intentions other than to hang out. We all enjoy each others company. We all went to NB then I headed over to Macondo. The crowd was good last night but I should have left earlier. Oh well, can't do much about it now.
A Marred Morning
"Great!" she thought to herself as she side stepped the vomit on the sidewalk. She always kept her eyes on the ground these days to avoid such hazards. The numbers of people who couldn't hold alcohol was amazing. Most Sunday mornings were tragically marred by evidence of someone's alcohol binge the night before. It had been a good night. Better than most. Some nights are like that. Its as if the gods are smiling down and for a few wonderful hours she is in a dream. Her dream always involved hours filled with uninterrupted dancing. One good partner after another with the occasional excellent mover. a night surrounded by good friends, good food, good music casting a blanket of contented peace. She didn't notice her achy feet or growling stomach on nights like that. Nights when she'd pour herself into a 3 am with a smile. Sopia, Young-min and Catherine were her companions for "Ladies Night" complete with dressing up, make-up, a very nice dinner in an expensive restaurant serving good food, and an amazing comtemporary dance performance at Spy Club. Then she and Sopia headed off to Macondo where they danced and danced and danced. She met Derek and Roy for the first time there. One can never have too many friends just not enough time to appreciate them. So, with such happy thoughts she left for study class, side stepping vomit on her way.
Arriving Impressions
The warm night air felt like silk on her skin. As she stepped out of the airport all of her senses were immediately aware of new surroundings. She had to slow it down, the barrage of newness. She felt her eyes becoming cautious as she watched carefully. She knew that every smiling face could not be trusted but somewhere inside she knew that most could. She wasn't taking any chances though. The taxi driver that approached them had honest eyes. She allowed herself a moment of reflection, calming her nerves, and then agreed to his offer. Vietnam at night was quiet. The cramped store fronts were closed until morning when she imagined the streets would fill with people. She was grateful for the obvious lack of lighted signage that ran rampant in Korea. It assaulted the senses at first exposure but over time one becomes immune. But Vietnam is a poor country and things are simple. She knew it as she watched sleepy Saigon pass by the taxi window. Then the city came alive as they approached the part of the city where young people thronged. She watched with mild awe as numbers of motorcycles and scooters drove by. The streets were filled with bike riding youth. She noticed the non-existence of traffic lights and became further amazed. They sat in large numbers in crowded outdoor restaurants. She could feel the air charged with youthful energy.In very little time the driver stopped in front of a set of cramped that looked closed with doors closed. He rang a bell and in answer, the door began to slide open. It was a family owned hotel. The newly arrived guests had other plans. They found a hotel in their guide book that they had set their minds on. While the taxi driver and the hotel owner stood watching them, they headed three floors down. They rang the bell...no answer. They rang again...no answer. Looking at one another they decided to turn around and try the taxi driver's choice.(He received commission of course.) They were led by the owner's daughter to a nice room on the fourth floor. For $12 or 6$ a night, they had a comfortable room in a quiet, lovely, homey hotel.Morning came quietly. The sun shown through the window and she continued to sleep. After a few good stretches she stepped out of bed and looked out of the window. she saw the rooftops of the buildings that looked so small from the ground. There was another world there. She saw a woman hanging her clothes to dry. A young boy watering plants. The buildings were deceptive. Where gardens couldn't be planted in the concrete and tar of the city, they grew up high on the rooftops.
Feb 16, 2004
Irene and I have been in Vietnam for three days and two nights. Already in the short time we have been here so much has happened. We've been in Ho Chi Minh so far. It is a loud city that is really busy with tons of motorcycles and cars and cyclos and bicycles. We were followed around yesterday by a very persistent cyclo driver who wanted to give us a ride. He insisted that we didn't want to walk. (A cyclo is a bike with a motor attached. There is a carriage attached for transporting passengers.)
We went for a massage yesterday at a school for the blind. Yep, the masseuses are all blind. I haven't had a massage that good in a long time. I was still recuperating from my dancing all night marathon so it really helped to loosen up my achy body. It was a beautiful school with a tree filled courtyard and benches to sit and enjoy the sun.
We were taken by a fruit dealer but the amount we were taken for is maybe 3 US dollars so we didn't make a huge fuss. I guess it is the principle of the thing more than how much it would cost. Anyway, we are staying a family run hotel that is very friendly and attentive. There is an older daughter Phuong who is a senior in college as a marketing major. She basically runs the hotel. She is so honest and helpful, which is a big deal in a place that is foreign to you.
Today we will do some shopping, look into getting clothes made, and then tomorrow we are off for a three-day tour of the Mekong Delta. I am soooo excited because it looks like it will be an incredible experience.
Traveling with Irene has been wonderful so far. We get along very well and are both pretty laid back people. After our Mekong tour we will head to the coast and stay at the beach for a few days.
I know I wrote this morning but I had to write again tonight. So much happened that I don't want to forget. Plus, you get the added bonus of hearing this all hot off the press. I am sitting in an internet cafe that is located on the ground floor of the hotel I am staying in. The cool breeze from the warm night is coming through the hotel's open front entrance. There are tons of motorcyles going by.
Well, Irene and I did indeed go shopping after first taking me to the bank to exchange money. We walked from the bank and decided to go in search of food, after being aggressively pursued by a nice enough cyclo driver. He had this notebook full of entries made by folks he had met as well as the postcards they sent him. I have to admit that it was a pretty inventive way to market himself. Lunch was an adventure. We decided to eat at this sidewalk cafe that had a family bbq kind of set up. There were these tiny tables with tiny plastic chairs for us to eat at. I had this incredibly delicious meal of rice, steamed and seasoned cabbage, and fish.
While eating Irene and I noticed a market across the street and thought it would be a good idea to go shopping there. I thought people in Korea were aggressive. They have nothing on the shop keepers in this market. The place was PACKED with so much stuff that a person could easily be overwhelmed. We were specifically in search of traditional Vietnamese dresses that the women here wear. We found a couple of other things and at one stall where I bought a dress, we found out the best way to buy a Vietnamese dress, get it made. We learned how to bargain and were able to get some really nice material at a fair price. One of the highlights was meeting two girls. They found out that we lived in Korea and we began to talk about how handsome Korean movie stars are. It was so funny. We were each naming people that we knew.
After buying material we decide to go to the Vietnam War Remnants Museum. If you have never experienced riding in a cyclo I highly recommend it. You definitely feel like your life is hanging in the balance but it was fun. The cyclo driver packed Irene and I in one cart, Irene sat on my lap. It was a very slow ride and a few people riding by on the motorcycles or bikes had amused looks on their faces. There is no way to describe the traffic here. There are so many motorcycles and the traffic laws seem to be pretty relaxed. Crossing the street takes a little practice but once you get used to walking into the traffic and knowing people will miss you, it's all good.
The museum was incredible. It featured mostly pictures and weapons and history regarding the Vietnam War. There were so many people there. It was so sad to see the depths of evil that people can go to in times of war. Luckily, I had already taken a course on the Vietnam War in University, so most of it was familiar to me. It was just interesting to see it through the eyes of the Vietnamese people. I found what I learned in my course and what I saw here to be consistent.
We headed back to our hotel where I showed Phoung the material I bought. It was so funny because when we walked in, Phoung said, "You went shopping!" and I said, "Do you want to see what I bought?!" and of course she wanted to. As Irene and I got on the elevator she made the most accurate observation, "Women are the same everywhere when it comes to shopping."
After dinner we headed out price checking for getting our dresses made. We found a pretty nice place. They will make our clothes while we are gone on the Mekong Delta tour so they will be finished when we get back.
We will leave tomorrow for the Mekong Delta, 8:00am. The earliest we will have gotten up yet.
Feb 15, 2004
From: Adalia Ellis Sent: Sunday, February 15, 2004 8:44 PMTo: 梯模Subject: Comfort Women:Retelling HistoryI am writing this letter to the editor in response to an article in the February 14th, 2004 issue of the Korea Herald. It was written by Hwang, You-Me and was titled, "Actress Lee's nude project angers comfort women".
Comfort Women:Retelling History
History is the retelling of past events. It is partially through history that a culture's memory and heritages are maintained. One aspect of history that most cultures of the world have in common is their silence regarding the contributions of and atrocities faced by women. Someday this will no longer be true but at present we must be careful about how we retell the experiences of women.
I read your article regarding Ms. Lee's nude project which uses the experiences of comfort women as its theme. Whatever intentions sparked such a project, however sincere they may have been, these intentions are lost on me as well as the 132 former comfort women. At the press conference held by Ms. Lee and Netian Entertainment, they spoke of raising social conciousness as being the motive. This endeavor to raise social conciousness is, on its on, a commendable one but the approach is all wrong. It is out of context. There is no way that nude photos taken of Ms. Lee with make-up, lighting, camera directions, while surrounded by a supportive production crew could possibly capture the fear, hopelessness, pain, anguish, mental, emotional, spiritual, or physical traumas inflicted as a result of such torture. At most it trivializes the inhumanity of sexual slavery and makes it sexual when in fact it wasn't sexual, it was violence. It was a crime against humanity that is still deserving of proper application of justice.
To add insult to serious injury, Ms. Lee and Netian Entertainment are having the photos taken in Japan. The very country that committed the atrocity and still has yet, from what I understand, to take full responsibility. To go even furthur, they are offering to give a portion of the profits to "help the elderly comfort women", but these women do not want this kind of help. Not if it exploits their experiences. Ms. Lee and Netian Entertainment are blatantly ignoring the request of the very group they are supposedly helping.
If they really want to help they could get behind The Korea Council for Women Drafted for Sexual Slavery by Japan, and help push for justice. I am certain that there is enough money floating around between the movie star and the entertainment company that they can contribute money without having to use this project. They could even go a huge step further and compile a book with photos of the elderly women accompanied by the stories of their experiences. They could then have it translated into as many different languages as possible so that the whole world can know of the comfort women. So that a dignified and true telling of history as experienced by these women can be told.
Feb 17, 2004
Persistent SalesmenShe found herself walking along dusty city streets trying to avoid the hundreds of motorbikes. The sun felt like a long lost friend with whom she had been reunited with. She was a child of sun and heat. The people of Vietnam reminded here of her Southern home. where black folks sat on their stoops watching their world move before them. Children played in the streets, men played cards on the corner, women gossiped while braiding each others' hair. Where it was not uncommon to see a friend going past in their car or on a bicycle or on foot and people would shout a hello from their porches. Vietnam with its heat and its beautiful caramel brown people reminded her of simpler times. Yet there were complexities in the simplicity. There was the constant, verocious reality of poverty. Most people had to hustle to make a buck. She knew this. She didn't like the constant barrage of offers to give her a cheap ride on a cyclo, a n\motorbike, a scooter, a taxi. To buy postcards cheap. She didn't like being pressured to spend, spend, spend but she let it go. The anxiety and annoyance. She graciously said no and firmly repeated it. She knew this was how some here had to make money. They couldn't hide behind flashy, witty commercials and have sales people assist you in your choice. No, they were it. They put themselves out there everyday, knowing that most often than not, they'd be rejected. That some would reject them with disdain. She knew all of this and let it go though she kept her eyes open.
Feb 21, 2004
The Mekong Delta Tour as Told by Irene
This is the latest update from Vietnam. We have seenso many things so different to what I've seen before,that it may take a while to type it all out.
For the last 3 days we've been touring the MekongDelta, in the very south of the country. If you'veever read anything about it you'll know that its flatand wet.. The land seems like one vast expanse ofwater with lush trees, rice paddies and ditches spreadas a backdrop to the wooden stilt houses that lineeach and every road and path.
One might get the impression and perhaps its true thatthere are very few roads in the area because trafficseems forced into a never ending bottle neck. The onlyreason that things keep moving is because there arevery few cars. Over 95% (estimated guess) of peopledrive motorbikes/scooters and 3 or so motorbikes fitinto the space that one car would take up. I'll writemore about this later!!
There are 80 million people in Vietnam, most are verypoor. Services which we would routinely take forgranted seem to be missing or minimal here and sopeople are left to fend for themselves using whatevermeans possible to subsist. While traveling in theMekong, the number of public transport vehicles seemedto be very few. Or perhaps it is simply that there aretoo many people to fit into them.
During our trip we had to bus and boat our way to eachlocation where our guide showed us various crafts,trades, markets and tribes which express the characterof the Mekong. We saw the production of coconut candy,tofu, rice cakes, incense sticks, crocodiles, sarongs,rice paper and honey tea. We saw floating markets,fish farms, and floating houses, incredible! We wereeven able to hike a mountain (hill) and look over thevast land of Cambodia on the other side. Our threedays were busy leaving time only to sleep at night andeat our meals, which is another whole story in itself!I can now officially say that I've eaten frog!! Andyes, it does taste just like chicken!! Perhaps my lasting impression of the tour is howpeople live in this area. The Mekong is a web ofcanals and rivers so many stilt houses have a river orcanal as their back yard. Boats are everywhere andtraffic on the river can be as hectic as that on land.Boats come in all shapes and sizes depending on theresources of their owners. Water is the way of lifeand everything revolves around it.
The children grow up learning the trade of theirparents and survive with as much skill as can bepassed on. Many children weren't in school and thosewho were could be seen through the glassless windowsand doors across the tell tale empty dirt yards.
I have to write about roads and traffic.. because ittells so many stories about life in this country. I'vetruly never seen anything like it.. Had I notexperienced the milder form of traffic chaos that issometimes experienced in Africa, I would have beenshockingly unprepared. As I sat on the bus taking itall in, my mind was whirling with amazement anddisbelief. Roads, to start, are for the most part narrow. Theyare flat and straight, some were dirt but most weretarmac. The only distinction I could find betweencountryside and town was the volume of stilt houses..because stilt houses are placed along every stretch spheavy traffic just never ends.. It was stressfultrying to mentally plough through the mire of vehiclesthat slowed our bus/van down like heavy mud on ourwheels. The constant din of beeping horns outside thebus, combined with the steady flow of conversation infour or five languages, the medley of western musicfrom the cassette player and the humming of Italianopera inside the bus made relaxation difficult andlistening interesting!Unfortunately for the long stretch back to Saigon, thelast leg of our journey, I wasn't graced with a highback seat so my head bobbed with fatigue for nearly 4hours. Back to the road.. There are no rules when it comes toroad transport. Cars, trucks, buses and people weaveamong the hundreds of motorbikes and bicycles. Driversdrive on the right as a general rule, but on the leftis also acceptable, in the middle of the road is mostpopular for the larger vehicles and two or threewheelers take up the edges. Passing out what's infront of you can be done in any way that you like, onthe outside, or the inside or, as often happens, onboth sides at the same time. When the schools arefinished the multitude of bicycled students dot theroads like beautiful flowers in a garden of unrulyweeds. The boys are dressed in dark trousers, a shirtand tie and the girls wear all white traditionalVietnamese silk dresses, characterized by the loosefitting long pants, a tight fitting bodice which isalmost as long as the pants but splits at the waist. The front and back as two pieces, that flow gracefullyin the wind. On the bike, they put the end of the backpiece between their bottom and the saddle and hold thefront piece in their hands. Altogeher they look likebillowing swans...
At intersections there are rarely any traffic lightsand so it turns into a free for all, there are no suchthings as yellow boxes where you wait to cross orturn. Drivers, if possible try not to break or stopand enter a junction without establishing a clear pathto exit. It's just fascinating to watch and would be alittle more calm to experience if we weren't passingaround the latest newspapers in the back-seat of thebus looking at the most recent road deaths. Onepicture showed a beautiful swan (woman in her dress)sprawled on the road, her wings weren't going to flyagain.. Traffic accidents are common, but I was surprised thatwe didn't experience any ourselves..
Enough about the road!!
Vietnamese food, from what I can see, has beendifficult to experience. I think we havebeen too lazy to go and look for it. In Saigon, for meanyway, I find that I have no energy to walk thestreets and deal with the traffic to bother going tothe real traditional or non-foreign Vietnamese places.We have been maintaining so far that 'we are onvacation' so even though we are in Vietnam we don'thave to see everyplace and do everything. We are happyto do what we can and relax as much as possible. Koreais too busy a place to want to spend our time awaybeing just as busy.. So we have sacrificed seeing afew Vietnamese treasures to hopefully gain rest andcomposure before teaching again.
The people on our tour were great. We were very luckyin that most people in our group were older. One was aFrench war veteran. He kept us all entertained just byconversing in his broken English with the rest of thegroup, against the pleas of his wife, who complainedthat he was giving too much information about theirprivate lives!! There was a couple from Denmark, verynice people. The man particularly was very open andsincere and we spent some time chatting about Korea,Ireland, Denmark.. Evie in Denmark and things likethat. He was also very eager to practice his Englishand was so grateful for the 10 or so words that helearned over the three days! There was also anothercouple from Canada, Victor and Elda. Victor thoughsilent sometimes (rarely), found great pleasure ingiving advise and lively accounts of the placesthey've so far visited.. Victor had been working inthe financial business for about 20 years. He has nodegree or masters.. A few months ago, his wife andhimself sold their house, finished their jobs andstarted traveling. They look like they're in their40's. There were so interesting!! They've beentraveling in Thailand, Burma, Vietnam, Myanmar andLaos and were on their way to Cambodia.. They thinkthey'll be traveling/working abroad for a few yearsbefore they go back to Canada.
I won't write more about the Mekong, though I've leftlots of stuff out. We got back last night, and havespent today catching up with ourselves. We're takingthe slow train north tomorrow. Almost 24 hours, up theDa'Nang, where we'll bus it to HoiAn. We'll mostlikely stay there for the rest of the trip or until weget bored
All in all, everything is going great... The onlything we notice as regards bird flu is that chickenand eggs are off the menu.
Getting a New Perspective
I have been in Vietnam for almost a week now. Tomorrow will make it a week. Thanks to Irene I have to write very little about our trip to the Mekong Delta or about what we see here so often. I do know that I don't think I will travel again as a tourist. I have traveled to other countries in the past but it was always connected to either assisting the Baha'i community or offering some service. The people here are so poor. This country, like many others like it, have been for centuries been an agrarian culture. This place is rich in natural resources with very fertile soil, especially in the Mekong Delta, and many fish. It is now becoming a consumer based culture which has had its major setbacks. Not until the States set off the Vietnam War during the late 60's and early 70's had consumerism really taken off. Now there seems to be so much focus on trying to make enough money. This is a Socialist society and the haves and have nots are similar to the States which is a Capitalist society. Tourism may have some weight in the overall country's economy but it is making the people, especially the newer generation, into beggars. There is this idea that seems to be presented that rich westerners are supposed to give. That somehow many people here have become dependant on westerners to take care of them. In many ways I can see how westerners have created this dependence and it is a sad thing for me to see. I am not sure what the education system is like here but there were children that were not in school that should be. In a society where people are trying to make the ends meet the first thing to go is education which is so dangerous. A population that is uneducated is easily manipulated and can become very dependant. The fact is though, that comparatively speaking, in Vietnamese currency, Westerners are very rich. Things here are so cheap because the average Vietnamese person couldn't possibly get the goods or services if they were based on the Western standard. So in the west you the haves and have nots is pretty wide but here most people are not wealthy. Of course for the tourist this place is an absolute gold mine. Even for a person with a very small income, if they could afford the flight here, they could come with no baggage and leave with new bags full of stuff. The hard thing is getting across to people that although you maybe rich here, you are not rich in America or wherever you may come from. They don't know that you have to budget and maybe save for a year to plan for this trip. But the flip side is that as a tourist you at least have that option. The average income is 300USD a month. A person would have to work for years to even afford the plane ticket to the States not to mention living costs.
Since I have been here I am really starting to think a lot more heavily about what I want to do with my life. How I want to live. I see where getting my masters degree will help me to be able to pursue more philanthropic aims. If I were to come back to Vietnam I would want to be here in some education capacity...not necessarily an English teacher either. To see how simply most people here live and how, especially in the country side, people seem content. If a person wants to be a farmer than he should be. If a person wants to be a lawyer he should be. As long as a person is content in what they are doing and are not hurting others. It is so easy to become greedy. I find that many westerners, including myself, live way beyond their means. Being here has opened my eyes to the importance of moderation and finding a career path that I will be content with.
Love, War, Life: A Side Street ConversationThey sat in lawn chairs in an alley street right off the main road. On the corner a woman attended a small fresh fruit juice stand. He insisted on buying them, what he called, "The best fruit drink ever." As they sat waiting for the Vietnamese delight, they began to talk. He had first come to Vietnam as a draftee for the war at the age if 19. He celebrated his 20th and 21st birthdays on the Mekong Delta. He came back to Vietnam in his 50's and had continued coming since. The guest house he stayed at was more like home and he was called brother and uncle by the people who ran it. He had met his drink guests over a breakfast of baggets and bananas in the dining room of the guest house. She was immediately intrigued by this man and wanted to know about him. His offer to buy the fruit drink was the perfect opportunity to chat.
So here they were, now holding the best tasting fresh fruit drink she'd ever had in her hand, and he was telling them that his wife was supposed to come this trip but had taken the job opportunity of a lifetime. He spoke of her with such love and respect that she had to ask, "How did you meet?" He laughingly replied, "Do you really want to know? I was in college trying to live on the GI Bill which was $175 a month. Not much, huh? Well, I had this teacher ask me one day, 'Do you have a girlfriend?' I laughed at him saying, 'I can't have a girlfriend on $175 a month.' He told me that his daughter had a friend that he thought would be good for me. I met her for sodas and it was love at first sight. We have been together ever since." He now had two grown daughters who he was very proud of and a wife he adored. He told them of the hard times when they were divorced for two years and by some miracle, the strength of his wife, they came together again. The War affected so much of his life. It had changed everything he had once held to be true. The first 15 years of marriage were hard because he had not dealt with his demons.
He spoke of the days during the war, when he was young and didn't know why he was killing people. He spoke of a time when he held so much aggression. The war was so far removed from anything he had experienced, that upon returning home, he was in a young man' body but felt that he had aged into an elder. He sat staring out at a world that made to sense to him. Within 36 hours he was suddenly transported from hell into quiet mediocrity and no one to understand him. She listened to him speak and was moved by his words. This man with such light in his eyes and love that seemed to ooze from every pore of his body, was at one time a troubled young man.
He came back to Vietnam years later to bring closure. He had a life threatening illness and before he left this earthly place he wanted to go back to the country that had irrevocably changed his entire life. Upon returning to Vietnam, visiting places from the past, eating the food, being taken in so warmly by the Vietnamese family, he took a miraculous turn for the best. The virus had completely left his body. He was given a second chance at life and he took it. He took it with such energy and zeal that it was infectious.
The lessons I learned from listening...Marriage is hard work, it takes turns and twists and you have to work through them. It is possible to love without claiming ownership. That life is precious and must be lived now to the fullest. If you feel drawn to a certain avocation, pursue it with passion and energy. That respect is granted to those who expect it and give it back. Always be honest. Therapy is a good way to help the healing process. There are things in life that will change us forever. The past cannot be changed but how it effects the future is entirely up to you and the choices you make. That Vietnamese fruit juice made in a blender on a cart beside the road is the best tasting fruit drink ever.
Feb 22, 2004Night NoisesThe floor shaking is what woke her up. This followed by a determined banging of the bathroom window kept her sitting straight up in bed. Surrounded by a thick, black darkness, her eyes couldn't follow the sounds her ears heard. Something slid down the bathroom wall and landed with a thump. "Oh shit, something's in the room," she gasped poking her travel companion who slept soundly. "Go back to sleep," she said. "its probably just a bird." She wasn't convinced as she sat upright in a bed covered by a mosquito net. She tuned her ears to every noise. She heard a squeak near the door, "Damn,"she said under her breath, "that's no bird." Gripped with fear, she sat statue-like in the bed, letting only her eyes scan the room for movement. She couldn't see anything but she could hear it. She wasn't sure how long she sat like that before allowing herself to lie down. She never quite closed her eyes fully and her ears were like radars. "There it is again." The noises were coming from the area near the bathroom now. She watched the mosquito net for movement. As long as it didn't move she knew they were safe.
She wished the sun would come up or the alarm go off so she could turn on the lights. She fought her drooping eyes. She had to stay awake. She pulled her feet up from the edge of the bed and her head down away from the head board. She heard a sucking, slurping sound on the floor closer to the bed. "There is something in here and it definitely isn't a bird but it's too big to be a bug." She lay there a moment and then sat up again watching the net and straining to see movement near the bathroom.
Ages seemed to pass before she heard a scurrying in the darkness. "Well, whatever it is, it's not coming to the bed." The sun was starting to rise. The light on the curtain brought a little comfort. She began to hear a rooster crowing in the distance and boats' engines on the Mekong River. For a long time there were no sounds inside and she lost her battle against sleep. She let herself lie down with her legs bent up and her head down, careful to put distance between herself and the ends of the bed. She had strange dreams and constantly woke up to check the net.
Finally the sun rose and the alarm went off. She recounted her tale of night time horror to her still unconvinced travel companion. None-the-less, she let her climb out of bed first to check the corner. Nothing. In the toilet. Nothing. She began to think it was all in her head. An effect of being in the jungle of Vietnam. But a dinner conversation with other tourists who had experienced a similar night, confirmed her suspicions. There had been something in the room. It was a rat.
Feb 23, 2004Vietnam- Day 9
There was a consistency to Vietnam. One never got the impression that what was true in one place wouldn't be in another. There was a comfort to be found in this quality. If one wasn't careful they could call it "sameness" but just as there was consistency there were just as many subtle differences. To the untrained, unwatchful eye, the people and the landscape could become a blur. There were the girls dressed an all white traditional Vietnamese dress. A type of school uniform I guess worn from Saigon on down to the Mekong Delta. They wore the same pattern even. Most rode bikes sitting with straight backs as if to say," I was born queenly." To keep the long pieces from catching in the bike gears some held the material in one hand or tucked it into the back of their trousers while others just let the material fly in the wind. Some wore traditional hats to block the sun while others sported the more modern style. (I preferred the traditional myself.) Some covered their arms with long above the elbows gloves and their faces with a mask to keep their skin pale. Some girls rode alone while others shared a bike. Just as varied as the way the girls got home were the homes themselves. Some were made of thatched roofs and wooden walls while others were made of beautifully crafted stone. Some houses sat on the ground, some on stilts, while others floated on the Mekong River. No matter where she had gone as a tourist she was approached by aggressive peddlers. Most seemed to be begging while a small few were excellent sales people. She found herself accepting the consistency with its varieties. Somehow tuning into a place of calm she was able to see without attaching a feeling. Yet, there were moments when peddlers, or shop keepers, or restauranteers crossed the line. Times when a repeated "No" was doggedly refused. A type of mental game and manipulation ensued. An attempt to entangle emotions with buying a product. To have one buy something out of pity or a guilt. At these moments she felt her calmness go deeper while quiet anger surfaced on her face. This particular variety to the consistency she didn't like. It offended so many senses inside her but none worse than seeing a person betray their nobility. When children switched to this tactic she found it particularly upsetting. She saw desperation in their actions. She saw a system that exploited them. She saw the fear. She saw all these things in one moment but couldn't, wouldn't bend to pity. She wouldn't play the game. She wouldn't carry the blame for the exploitation of Vietnam's people but she would take some responsibility to make it better. Sometimes saying "No" is the best answer. So she let it go while not turning a blind eye. She saw the consistencies and the different ways people lived their lives. She saw the beautiful and the ugly. She saw it all knowing that it was her own true, full experience of Vietnam.
Feb 23, 2004Vietnam- Hoi AnHoi An was like a light breeze on a spring day. She could spend a week here. She could spend two weeks here. The quiet hamlet was a welcome change to the hustle and noise of Ho Chi Minh City. The old town was beautiful with its brick sided alley ways and traditionally decorated wooden buildings. She could not say that people were kinder or less kind than those she met in Ho Chi Minh City. That was one of Vietnam's consistencies, its people. Those who wanted to sell something were pushy and aggressive. One never got the impression that anyone was unkind. There was a simplicity about its people. There were the occasional dirty look after an offer of services was refused. It seemed that many Vietnamese people were under the impression that Westerners were in possession of an unlimited supply of money. She was particularly disturbed by an encounter over breakfast. A child approached her just as her food arrived. He was selling beautiful hand crafted cards that could also be framed for the pictures. When asked the price, she was shocked by the amount given. After giving the cards back in refusal there ensued a tug of war. He came like a vulture who would not move. He even let out a snifle. After being shooed away by the restaurant owner he sat outside the window by her table waiting. She wanted the cards but not at the price he gave her. He left and returned with a lower but still unreasonable price. She was sure that he was working for someone. He repeatedly said he needed to pay for school, an excuse he was able to use after being asked why he wasn't in school. He left and returned again with a reasonable price so she bought a few. She wasn't unhappy with her purchase but she was with the exchange. The reality that there were many children used to sell products as a way to pull on the heartstrings of the compassionate, patronizing Westerners. They know this well, the Vietnamese people. Most of us, if pushed and given what we think is a reasonable price, will give in. Not knowing what something costs to make, you have no idea of its true value. Ignorance breeds wastefulness. Yet, on the flip side, it seems only fair when a Westerner is able to buy a full piece, tailor made suit for $25. That was what Vietnam was teaching her. That there really is no equality. That the people here didn't receive fair compensation for their work and we Westerners pay the difference when we come as tourists.
Feb 24, 2004Vietnam- Day 10
After three days of riding their rented bikes to and from the beach, her butt was sore. She hadn't ridden a bike in almost 10 years and now she was riding the equivalent of 6 miles a day. No wonder she was sore. Despite this, she was capable of enduring a sore bum to enjoy the beach. She loved how quiet it was there. The sand stretched as far as she could see. There were so few people visiting that she felt like she had this small piece of paradise all to herself. They had eaten dinner on the shore while watching the sun set. She had taken photos of the fishermen the day they came early in the morning. "The Buena Vista Social Club" became the soundtrack for the days spent quietly watching the waves rise and touch the shore and then return to the sea. The days had usually been sunny and hot but today the clouds refused to be burned away. The waves came in rough when it was calm on most days. It looked like storm weather. No sun bathing today or dinner on the shore as planned. Under a cloudy sky she and her friend rode back into town.It was the rain that woke her. At first there as only the sounds of soft impacts on the ground. She tuned her ears in and could hear the wind of countless small drops falling to teh earth. It reminded her of some sort of peace. There was a quiet in rain. Not a storm but rain. She remembered being at home, in her bed and feeling the rhythm between falls and the hits. It would put her to sleep. She savored the quiet rhythm before motorcycles, cars, and horns would interrupt the rhythm and she couldn't find it. Her thoughts began to wander. She wanted to walk out onto the balcony. She wanted to feel the breeze from the wind. Barefoot she walked out onto the cool tile, closing the door behind her. Watching the town below it was the perfect moment of silence before everyone woke up. Then cars started honking and motorcycles revving. The world was waking up. She was waking up. The rain kept falling. Falling. A constant rhythm under the noise of humanity.
Feb 28, 2004
Leaving at 1:00AM….Tomorrow?
I have not been able to write for days. Luckily I wrote most of my experiences in my "Nothing Book" so it will only be a matter of typing it all up. Irene and I just returned from Hoi An. It was a beautiful place with really sucky internet connections. Anyway, for the next few days I will be writing alot of new entries.
We left Hoi An yesterday, 27th. We were on the train to Ho Chi Minh for 21 hours. I must say that the train we took coming back was much nicer. There was more room and it was not cold like a deep freezer. Actually, our departure has been just as full as the day we arrived. We started leaving Vietnam yesterday. We are in Ho Chi Minh only long enough to eat dinner, write on the internet, and walk around a bit. Yesterday morning, in Hoi An, we were eating at an outdoor cafe when two of my friends from my job in Korea last year walked by. I couldn't believe it. We were all so shocked to see each other. I honestly just kept staring at them. You must understand how small Hoi An is and that most people who have limited time don't go there. We talked for awhile until we had to check out of our guesthouse so we said our goodbyes and they went shopping. We took one last walk around Hoi An and went through the Market where there seemed to be a convergence of culture and commerce. We were asked to buy so much stuff. I was afraid to even stop and check some stuff out cos we would get hounded. It was the only time that I saw people be openly rude and say things in Vietnamese that were not nice. Although I didn't understand the language, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to read a dirty look followed by something said snidely. Well, anyway, we headed for the train station in a car driven by one of the people who worked at the guest house. We were pretty sure it was his personal car. As usual, he was dodging scooters, cyclos, motorbikes, cars, trucks, bike riders, and walkers. I tell you, the fact that I didn't witness an accident is a miracle. Our train cabin was really nice as I said before, and we had two cabin mates. There was a young lady from Australia named Sally and she was way cool. I couldn't believe how quickly we all connected. And the other mate was a transvestite. He was quiet most of the time because he didn't speak much english but by the 15th hour or so even he was "talking" in what I call "Charades Sign Language". It was cool. It's a universal language because I do the same stuff in Korea. I kept getting up at night and writing or listening to music. I was so restless. Apparently one of the times I was out, one of the train employees came into our cabin and was putting the moves on our transvestite friend. None of us knew until the next morning when the guy showed up again and after he left, our friend told us, in sign language, what had happened. We were all upset about it. The thought that someone could come into our cabin and the other two who were there didn't wake up. Of course, he never would have touched any of the foreigners because there are severe penalties for harming a tourist in Vietnam. But a Vietnamese woman, even if they are a man who looks like a woman, are fair game.
Well, we all arrived safely and now Irene and I are keeping our things in Sally's room until our plane leaves at 1:00am. It's about 9:30pm now so we'll head to the airport in about an hour or so. Korea Here We Come!!!!
Vietnam-Last Day…as Told by Irene
Our holiday in Vietnam is coming to a close.. its beenan unusual few days. We had decided a week ago to goto the beach.. a place called HoiAn which was hailedas one of the 'must sees' of Vietnam. And it waslovely. We went there to finish our trip, hoping torelax and unwind after our busy week in Saigon and theMekong Delta. I don't really think that any place in Vietnam isquiet. Streets bustle with activity from about 6.30amonwards.. and it doesn't stop till about 11pm. Before6.30 and after 11.. there is almost total silence.It's as if there is a curfew.. its a little strangeand sometimes eerie how quickly things quiet downand then come back to life at these times. Our first hotel in HoiAn felt as though it were madeof paper. Sound traveled as if it had only our ears tofind peace in. After two nights of hearing every carand bike that passed and then the screaming TV of theguest next door, we decided to find other lodgings. Wemoved to a place not far away which was a lot better.The first three days were really nice, we explored theold quarter of the town, which isn't very big, spenttime on the beach and ordered some clothes to be made.We had set aside our lost two days in the town to bespent solely at the beach, work on our tan and swim inthe sea.. Unfortunately it rained those two days sowe're still pretty white..
Because the weather was so bad on the last two days,and also Adalia wasn't feeling so well, we stayed inquite a lot. There wasn't much to do outside in therain and hanging about in any area attracted theattention of every child hoping to sell small trinketsand cards. It became very tiring after a while. I was quite disappointed that we didn't get more time at the beach, it worked out to be only about a day in total that we spent with our feet in the sand.. But thosefew hours were wonderful.
On one particular evening, just before the weather turned, we had dinner on the beach. We sat at a table, about 20 meters from the water, watching the sun go down. The food was delicious and we thought to ourselves how life couldn't possibly be any better than that.. I could have thought of a few things, but it was just one of those rare, perfect moments..
Getting to and from the beach was great. The first time we went on a motorbike taxi, which I wasn't at all comfortable with. The driver I had had been drinking and I could smell his breath as we weaved in and out of traffic. On the way back was worse as he'd been waiting for us and so had had even more to drink.He was also smoking a cigarette on the way back, so driving with only one hand.. i didn't trust him..After surviving that we decided never to use motorbikes again and so moved down a notch to bicycles. The bicycles weren't great either. They hadn't been maintained and so the peddles spun too fast, the breaks hardly worked, and saddle was too low, and the handle bars weren't straight... but despite all that, cycling is a wonderful way to travel. You can see everything around you with perfect clarity. You can smell the smells that go with each part of scenery, be they good or bad, they add to the whole experience. It's slow enough to enjoy the scenery but fast enough to know that you're making good progress. The ride to be beach was a flat 4kms..T'was wonderful, refreshing!!
Traveling back to Saigon was interesting too. We were sharing a first class cabin with a young Australian student and a transvestite singer. She/he was very nice and struggled though the trip trying to communicate with almost non-existent English. It was somewhat disturbing too 'cos the male staff on the train seemed over-interested in her and constantly opened our cabin door. She told us (gestured) in themorning that one guy had come in during the night and was stroking her leg. The rest of us slept through the whole thing.. but she didn't get much sleep. In themorning the same guy came in and just stood in the doorway stared with the sleaziest eyes I've everseen. Just looking at him stare at her made me feel dirty.. The lock to our cabin was broken so there wasn't much we could do about it. Thankfully a female staff member knew that our door wouldn't lock, and so kept an eye on us from the corridor.
The Australian girl was lovely. She was very interesting, traveling alone. I think she was glad to find some people to talk to. The train trip was 21 hours, so its nice to be able to chat to people during that time. It certainly made our trip a lot moreinteresting. She was looking for a place to stay so werecommended the hotel we were staying in. We weregoing to return anyway and get a room for the day toshower and relax in before catching the flight home..So in the end we got a single room for all three, wepaid a little towards the bill and it meant we didn'thave to get another room for ourselves.. which wouldhave cost about $10 more, which seemed like a lot forjust the day. AFter cleaning ourselves up we went tothe supermarket for some things to bring back toKorea.. couldn't get the things I actually needed,like toothpaste.
After that we went for a nice meal, then got somefruit shakes in a nearby alley and now here I am..spending the last of my dong (vietnamese money) onsending this email..
Its been a really great trip.. I can't say we had anyproblems at all... the rain was the only dampner ofour spirits, but they were lifted again knowing thatI'd soon be back in Korea.
Back in KoreaToday I am sitting in the Coffee Bean eating a piece of blueberry cheese cake, drinking Orange Blossom Oolong tea, and contemplating watching a movie. Just yesterday I was having a Vietnamese breakfast on a train with a girl from Australia and a Vietnamese transvestite. Today I took a friend out to lunch and a walk around Insa-dong South Korea. We met in the airport in Vietnam. Last night, my friend and I walked around a park in Ho Chi Minh City, under Vietnam's night sky, filling the time until we had to go to the airport. Today I am looking forward to giving a gift to a friend while last night I was receiving a gift from my Vietnamese hosts. Today I am surrounded by voices in Korean. Yesterday I was maneuvering around Saigon with no Vietnamese speaking ability. Today the chill from the wind cuts through my jacket and sweater. Yesterday the sun was so hot that I could feel its heat under my skin. Today I am looking at the world through new eyes. Yesterday gave me a new perspective.
The End
