Getting My Feet Wet in S.E. Asia
Violette – wake up!”
10 hours, prior, Brett and I had boarded the Dalat / Hoi An night bus. Uncertain what the night-bus was all about but certain we didn't want to experience the 10 hour journey on Vietnam’s roads sober or remotely alert, we decided a couple of Valium (you can pick them up like aspirin here) and a few beers would be a good call - it was.
By the second cup of coffee my head began to clear. I could feel the caffeine take hold, kick-start my brain, and slowly muscle out my drug addled road fatigue. After a 10 minute disagreement with the proprietor over the cost of our breakfast, we caved in, paid up and spent the morning roaming Hoi An’s streets before deciding to drop anchor and get acquainted with the place. Although we hadn’t talked about it, we I could tell Brett was thinking what I was:
* This place can’t be that bad – it has got to get better.
* I need a few days of peace if I’m going to regain my senses.
* Hoi Ann must be friendlier than Saigon and the Mekong Region.
* I hope it’s true what they say – the further North you get, the more laid back the towns are.
* I hope to hell the same goes for the people.
Personally, the first two weeks of my journey had been more than I’d bargained for. I’d signed on for an adventure where wisdom was to be gained by effortlessly sipping boat-drinks on the beach – not this.
From the moment I landed, it was a constant struggle to stay focused on the goals I set prior to embarking - peace, knowledge, growth, etc.
A friend back home asked me why I’d described the trip as challenging:
* To begin with Vietnam is a 3rd world country with all the fixings – abject poverty, overwhelming pollution, etc. From day 1, I’ve had to fight my overwhelming desire to fix everything. Adopting a new friend’s mantra “it is what it is” has helped, a bit.
* Nothing here is easy. Simple errands routinely become all day affairs. Picture trying to find something as basic as Band-Aids. Now imagine that it's as hot as a motherfucker and so humid you’re surprised it doesn’t spontaneously rain. When your earnest attempts at communication lead you on a 4 hour journey to a hospital, which of course doesn’t sell Band-Aids, it’s all you can do to keep from going postal.
* Although Vietnam is officially Communist, it is racing to embrace capitalism and the almighty US $. The people here are nothing if not tenacious and although it’s an admirable trait, fending off the relentless barrage of solicitation gets tedious. It NEVER ends or lets up. When you do break down and purchase, you are as likely to be “accidentally” overcharged as short changed. Vitescam is a fitting description. To be fair though, these scams are never malicious and almost always good natured - but it gets old real fast.
Yeah, its been tough but what did I expect, to step off the plane, land in Utopia, and immediately find Nirvana?
Here are a few of the rewards / adventures thus far:
* Climbing a mountain littered with Buddhist temples - watching the best sunset of my life from the top [see picture]. To our left was Cambodia, to our right the plains of Vietnam - truly spiritual.
* Visiting an Islamic Mosque and chancing upon a boy becoming a man [see picture]. Along with all the other boys in the town, we watched as their friend was circumcised. Although it was a bit freaky, I loved the fact that the people share everything with each other. There seemed to be an incredible sense of community that is just missing from my American me-oriented existence.
* Staying in Delat’s infamous "Crazy House'. The place is just that - bizarre in the most interesting way. Completely reminded me of Burning Man. It resembles something straight out of Alice in Wonderland. Mushroom tables, exotic gardens, tree houses containing a variety of super super bizarre rooms. BUT, it is very well done. The coolest room by far is the ‘Eagle Room’ [see picture]. It has tables, desks, and a coffee table made out of tree trunks, an enormous mosaic bathtub-Jacuzzi, a full sized fireplace built out of a giant eagle egg, mirrors on the ceilings, and French doors leading out to numerous balconies. After seeing it and learning that it could be rented for the cost of lunch back in the States, we decided it was well worth it.
* After dropping our bags in the Eagle Room, we went looking for a reclusive Zen Buddhist monk that Brett had heard about back in Saigon. Once we found his pagoda and overcame our apprehension, we knocked. The door opened and a small robbed man [see picture] asked us where we were from. Upon hearing that we were from the US and San Francisco specifically, he informed us that we had to come in and help him with his email. Inside sat a top of the line computer, oversized screen, color printer, scanner, etc. This was like finding a super computer in your buddy’s closet back in the States. After we helped him log on and check his messages, he invited us back the next day to be blessed.
Yhep, the same roads - don’t know how I did it.
Riding down the dirt streets at high noon (the streets deserted / most people inside escaping the mid-day heat), I felt like a Hell's Angle blazing into a little Mexican city. All the locals were checking out the weird ‘round-eyes’ on the bikes. Brett had on a bandana, backwards visor and shades. I had on my Yankees hat and a pair of sunglasses with one lens missing - somehow I lost the left lens earlier in the day. The dust, wind, and occasional rain, however, necessitated that I keep them on and peer out of the right eye. For the better part of the day, we didn't encounter a single westerner. When we found the beach we weren't sure it was the right one, only that it was super beautiful and undeveloped [see picture]. Later, we drove around the small town looking for a "frontage road" to take further down the beach. After getting lost, we pulled over to the Vietnamese family that was waving to us. In perfect American English, two teenage kids asked us where we were going. Where did you guys learn to speak English so well was answered by “San Francisco, we live there. We’re visiting our Uncle”.
Small world.
On their advice, we drove our bikes onto the beach and headed further north in search of some secluded bungalows. The only place the bikes could find sufficient traction was on the hard sand right along the water line. After about a mile, my bike decided that it had ingested enough salt water and died. Hoping that they would dry out and start again later, and praying that the local kids wouldn’t siphon the gas in the meantime - we ditched the bikes and headed further down the beach where we could make out a few structures and a gathering of people. The bungalows sucked but there was a cool (temperature) restaurant where we got some beers and grub and just chilled out for a bit. Once sufficiently rested, we fired up the cycles (they started!), asked for directions via sign language, and found “The Falls.”
For the equivalent of 50 cents, two local boys who acted as guides lead us up these huge boulders along a small river. After about 30 hard-hiking-sweaty-minutes, when we were convinced we were being taken the wrong way, we arrived at a kick ass waterfall. Following our guides lead, we jumped off 30-foot rocks into the pool below (see picture), swam, and just goofed off.
In true S.E. Asian fashion, we sipped on ice cold beers that had been lugged up the boulders in a cooler by a middle-aged lady looking to make a little $$ (see picture). The best part of the entire day, however, was the ride back. It was sunset - a great fucking sunset that lit up the ocean, the mountains, the rice patties, and the islands - all of which we could see from the road (Highway 1’s got nothing on this road). Following B’s lead, I let out a San Francisco Club shout that summed up what I was feeling “it’s good to be alive”.
Peace My Friends