I've seen a lot in the past couple of days. Some of it good (like hundreds of ladies aerobicizing in front of the Royal Palace and the amazingly beautiful Phnom Wat), but a lot of it depressing. And not just the records of what happened 30 years ago.
Issue one: landmines. There are so many people begging (or trying to sell books so they can earn an honest living) that are missing arms and legs thanks to the landmines that are still all over the place. This is sad.
Issue two: street kids. There are over 20,000 kids in Phnom Penh that live and work on the streets. Yesterday we had lunch and dinner at two different non-profit restaurants whose proceeds go to housing and educating street kids. The fact is that there are a ton of these restaurants because there are so many kids that need help. Really young kids. (Child sex tourism is also a major problem here, which makes you wonder what kind of monsters could come to a country whose people have endured so much and make things even worse.)
We got to talk to some slightly better off street kids yesterday, as they tried to sell us postcards and books on the genocide. They were very sweet and incredibly bright, considering (when the woman next to me said she was from Australia, one of the kids promptly said "A dingo ate my baby"). They're also way more desperate than any child should have to be. I keep on hearing that it will take generations to heal the wounds inflicted on the country by Pol Pot, but I wonder what's going to happen to all these children in the meantime.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Phnom Penh: Much Harder to Handle than Anticipated
I don't know what I was expecting, really. Even having seen The Killing Fields years back, I think I viewed Phnom Penh mainly as a jumping off point for getting to Siem Reap. So I wasn't prepared for S-21, the high school turned detention center turned genocide museum where the Khmer Rouge tortured and killed thousands of people (including children) between 1975 and 1979. I wasn't prepared for the photographic documentation of the prisoners being tortured or the photographs of corpses. None of it makes any sense.
Afterwards, we headed to the Killing Fields, to the stupa which houses 9000 skulls found in mass graves, through the paths strewn with the bones and clothing of some of the victims of the genocide, to separate mass graves. According to our guide, Khmer Rouge soldiers killed the children whose bones were found in the mass graves by throwing them against a tree until they were dead. Bombs thrown into the mass graves ensured that there were no survivors.
I can't begin to process the things I've seen here.
Afterwards, we headed to the Killing Fields, to the stupa which houses 9000 skulls found in mass graves, through the paths strewn with the bones and clothing of some of the victims of the genocide, to separate mass graves. According to our guide, Khmer Rouge soldiers killed the children whose bones were found in the mass graves by throwing them against a tree until they were dead. Bombs thrown into the mass graves ensured that there were no survivors.
I can't begin to process the things I've seen here.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Travel Reading
As it turns out, I've been doing more over the past 2 months than just seeing the world, struggling with squat toilets and being equal parts annoyed and amused by my fellow travelers. I've also been reading. A lot, considering I spent much of the first 6 1/2 weeks without electricity, traveling on unpaved roads which did NOT inspire me to read in the car. So, in the list of things I'm thankful for, the Amazon Kindle ranks pretty high. So now, in no particular order, my reading list since leaving LA for Addis:
The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears (finding books for Kindle by Ethiopians or about Ethiopia is not easy)
Infidel
Dreams from My Father
Boomsday (no, really, I like Christopher Buckley)
Gulliver's Travels (an appropriate reread, I think)
I'm Looking Through You
Soon I Will Be Invincible (fun) and From the Notebooks of Dr. Brain (sadly, not quite as much fun)
My Sister's Keeper and Nineteen Minutes (I'm ashamed to admit this. She needs a better editor and/or to stop writing. But her books ARE page turners)
Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier
The Alchemyst and The Magician (these two look like a promising start to a new Y/A series)
Assassination Vacation
Lost on Planet China
The Bonesetter's Daughter
Journey from the Land of No
Septembers of Shiraz (I read these 2 back to back, on the recommendation of a friend from the firm)
The Year of Living Biblically (very funny and it made me want to read the bible)
The Glass Castle
A Thousand Splendid Suns
Dear American Airlines
The Blue Place, Stay and Always (Nicola Griffith, and not my type of books at all. I prefer her sci-fi, but didn't read the synopses before downloading).
Trying to pick up more non-fiction, and succeeding, although travel writing, memoirs and autobiogrpahies are not quite the "serious" non-fiction I had in mind. I do love that I have enough time to see the world and read three books a week (trying to pick up the pace a bit, but I fear I'll be seeing less of the world if I do).
The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears (finding books for Kindle by Ethiopians or about Ethiopia is not easy)
Infidel
Dreams from My Father
Boomsday (no, really, I like Christopher Buckley)
Gulliver's Travels (an appropriate reread, I think)
I'm Looking Through You
Soon I Will Be Invincible (fun) and From the Notebooks of Dr. Brain (sadly, not quite as much fun)
My Sister's Keeper and Nineteen Minutes (I'm ashamed to admit this. She needs a better editor and/or to stop writing. But her books ARE page turners)
Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier
The Alchemyst and The Magician (these two look like a promising start to a new Y/A series)
Assassination Vacation
Lost on Planet China
The Bonesetter's Daughter
Journey from the Land of No
Septembers of Shiraz (I read these 2 back to back, on the recommendation of a friend from the firm)
The Year of Living Biblically (very funny and it made me want to read the bible)
The Glass Castle
A Thousand Splendid Suns
Dear American Airlines
The Blue Place, Stay and Always (Nicola Griffith, and not my type of books at all. I prefer her sci-fi, but didn't read the synopses before downloading).
Trying to pick up more non-fiction, and succeeding, although travel writing, memoirs and autobiogrpahies are not quite the "serious" non-fiction I had in mind. I do love that I have enough time to see the world and read three books a week (trying to pick up the pace a bit, but I fear I'll be seeing less of the world if I do).
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Cu Chi Tunnel: Not Recommended
After yesterday's visit to one of the big markets, cocktails with the weird food-smelling Canadian at the Rex Hotel (where foreign journalists hung out during the war, and where one can now get some of the most expensive drinks in Vietnam) and dinner with the group (cute place, terrible food), I was not thrilled to have to wake up at 6:30 to visit the Cu Chi Tunnel. I should have slept in.
What should have been a war memorial was handled more like a war amusement park, complete with a high-priced shooting gallery for people itching to try their luck with an AK-47. To start, we watched a short film about the American devils who indiscriminately killed women and children in a war fought several thousand miles from their country. It also introduced us to the tunnels, where heroic Vietnamese guerrillas hung out while awaiting their chance to kill Americans. I think there were prizes given for those who killed 100 or more. Not really feeling the love, but who can blame them?
After that super-fun film, we started our tour of the area. First, there was a guy in army uniform demonstrating lowering the lid of the tunnel after covering it with leaves. Many of my fellow travelers thought this would be a good photo op. Other good photo opportunities: sitting on a captured tank, in a crater made by a B-52 bomb, and with mannequins dressed as North Vietnamese Army soldiers and guerrillas. All very weird and unsettling. So off-putting, in fact, that I suffered from nausea for a good hour after we left. My question: what's wrong with a tasteful memorial to those who lost their lives, and to the heroes of the war?
Back in Saigon now, having just walked around a little (very little. It's around 100 degrees and humid). Looking forward to touring the Mekong Delta tomorrow, and to Cambodia (day after tomorrow, after a 7 hour public bus ride that I am NOT looking forward to).
What should have been a war memorial was handled more like a war amusement park, complete with a high-priced shooting gallery for people itching to try their luck with an AK-47. To start, we watched a short film about the American devils who indiscriminately killed women and children in a war fought several thousand miles from their country. It also introduced us to the tunnels, where heroic Vietnamese guerrillas hung out while awaiting their chance to kill Americans. I think there were prizes given for those who killed 100 or more. Not really feeling the love, but who can blame them?
After that super-fun film, we started our tour of the area. First, there was a guy in army uniform demonstrating lowering the lid of the tunnel after covering it with leaves. Many of my fellow travelers thought this would be a good photo op. Other good photo opportunities: sitting on a captured tank, in a crater made by a B-52 bomb, and with mannequins dressed as North Vietnamese Army soldiers and guerrillas. All very weird and unsettling. So off-putting, in fact, that I suffered from nausea for a good hour after we left. My question: what's wrong with a tasteful memorial to those who lost their lives, and to the heroes of the war?
Back in Saigon now, having just walked around a little (very little. It's around 100 degrees and humid). Looking forward to touring the Mekong Delta tomorrow, and to Cambodia (day after tomorrow, after a 7 hour public bus ride that I am NOT looking forward to).
Saturday, February 21, 2009
In Which I Arrive in Ho Chi Minh City (still generally known as Saigon)
So, I just got to the hotel a few minutes ago. Apparently to punish me for a series of excellent rooms (my favorite being Hanoi), I've now got a windowless room which will never have the smoke fully aired out. Also: dirty. In both senses of the word. One of the tiles in the shower is actually a photo of Cindy Crawford, circa 1990, in a tiny bikini, looking "seductive."
Hoi An ended up being a bit of a bust. My cooking class was more of an experience in helping to cook dishes, along with the two other people in the course. Do I feel like I could make the dishes on my own? Probably not without carefully studying the recipes. Do I want to? Possibly no. We "made" a stuffed mackerel wrapped in banana leaves (really disgusting: the fish completely overpowered the herbs used to stuff it), a nicely seasoned calamari dish (which the other two pronounced "too spicy," despite the fact that no chilies or peppers were used in preparation, vegetarian spring rolls (fried, sadly, although the technique of frying long ones and then cutting them into handheld versions is one I might replicate), and wontons with sweet and sour sauce. A word about the wontons: we didn't make them! We just made the sauce. The recipe given to us actually calls for 6 pre-prepared wontons. So, a cooking class like no other.
Oh, and I am forced to report that there is another tourist in the group that I find intolerable. It seems irrational, because she is largely harmless. Yes, she's kept us all waiting three times this week, while she's done extra shopping or decided to change clothes when we're on a schedule, and she's not particularly bright (which makes her fit right in), but those things normally wouldn't awaken this level of distaste. The real problem: she persists in asking to smell things. Like my food. Or the food that we're preparing in the cooking class. And not at a safe distance. More like, before I've had a spoonful of soup, she's asked permission to smell it, which entails her picking it up and lifting it a couple of inches below her nose. Disgusting. And, frankly, freakish. I would trade her for the 25 year old hedge fund guy we parted ways with in Hanoi in a heartbeat. Among his many good qualities: snarkiness. Fortunately, he and another one of our fellow travelers (charming, but not quite as bright) have been stalking us all through Vietnam.
Hoi An ended up being a bit of a bust. My cooking class was more of an experience in helping to cook dishes, along with the two other people in the course. Do I feel like I could make the dishes on my own? Probably not without carefully studying the recipes. Do I want to? Possibly no. We "made" a stuffed mackerel wrapped in banana leaves (really disgusting: the fish completely overpowered the herbs used to stuff it), a nicely seasoned calamari dish (which the other two pronounced "too spicy," despite the fact that no chilies or peppers were used in preparation, vegetarian spring rolls (fried, sadly, although the technique of frying long ones and then cutting them into handheld versions is one I might replicate), and wontons with sweet and sour sauce. A word about the wontons: we didn't make them! We just made the sauce. The recipe given to us actually calls for 6 pre-prepared wontons. So, a cooking class like no other.
Oh, and I am forced to report that there is another tourist in the group that I find intolerable. It seems irrational, because she is largely harmless. Yes, she's kept us all waiting three times this week, while she's done extra shopping or decided to change clothes when we're on a schedule, and she's not particularly bright (which makes her fit right in), but those things normally wouldn't awaken this level of distaste. The real problem: she persists in asking to smell things. Like my food. Or the food that we're preparing in the cooking class. And not at a safe distance. More like, before I've had a spoonful of soup, she's asked permission to smell it, which entails her picking it up and lifting it a couple of inches below her nose. Disgusting. And, frankly, freakish. I would trade her for the 25 year old hedge fund guy we parted ways with in Hanoi in a heartbeat. Among his many good qualities: snarkiness. Fortunately, he and another one of our fellow travelers (charming, but not quite as bright) have been stalking us all through Vietnam.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Weekend Grad School Update
First off, it seems that I wasn't jinxing myself. Not only did I get into Harvard, but they've awarded me their highest honor: a Presidential Fellowship, which covers all five years of tuition, plus a generous spending stipend. Yay.
Even more good news: I heard from Michigan, and they've also accepted me (no word yet on whether they're also courting me with prestigious fellowships and/or scholarships).
It seems that every grad school has an open house sometime between March 5 and March 16. I'll have some decisions to make, because I can't go to all of them, and I don't want to cut in too much to the (incredibly limited) amount of time I have to spend visiting people in LA and New York. Still, very exciting.
Expect more updates next week, since I have a feeling this will all be done this month.
Even more good news: I heard from Michigan, and they've also accepted me (no word yet on whether they're also courting me with prestigious fellowships and/or scholarships).
It seems that every grad school has an open house sometime between March 5 and March 16. I'll have some decisions to make, because I can't go to all of them, and I don't want to cut in too much to the (incredibly limited) amount of time I have to spend visiting people in LA and New York. Still, very exciting.
Expect more updates next week, since I have a feeling this will all be done this month.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Even More (Good) Grad School News
It's not official, so I may be jinxing myself by writing this, but this morning I received two emails from the admissions office at Harvard, one entitled "Good News." It seems that they've been trying to reach me by phone, but I suspended my phone service when I left the country. I hope I'm not being presumptuous in assuming that this means that I've gotten into Harvard. More details after the call.
Hoi An: I Grow Conflicted
I am still very pleased with my tailor-made acquisitions (I went in at 12:30 for a fitting and the alterations should be done by 4:30. Fast, plus the clothes look pretty great). However, I'm beginning to be a little lukewarm about Hoi An generally. The main problem: EVERYONE is selling something. And they really want you to buy it. Enough to interrupt your lunch to ask 50 times if you want salted peanuts or crystallized ginger. Enough to ride past you on a bicycle, stop to say hello, then drag you to their tailor shop. Enough to ask you where you're staying so that they can find you to drag you on a boat ride down the river, even as you protest that you suffer from motion sickness (I don't, but I do suffer from pushy sales person sickness). Even the laundry services are competitive, with people calling you from across the street to remind you to use their service. The losing bidders then scold you for having gone with a competitor. At a dollar a kilo, I can't see how it's worth the extra energy required to scold.
On the bright side, I should be able to find a smallish piece of luggage to accommodate my new purchases for $10 max. And the food, while priced for tourists, is still pretty reasonable.
Tomorrow: cooking class, a self-guided city tour, a boat ride (yes, I'm going to cave), and shopping avoidance (unless I find something really irresistible, or cave in and have some shoes hand-made).
A word on the hotel: cute, nice service, a gym (first time there's been one of these in the 2 months I've been traveling). Sadly, the sheets seem to have not been washed (extreme measures are being taken to save energy, apparently) and there are a host of tiny bugs (and bigger spiders) everywhere. I'm hoping they tiny bugs are the kind that stay put, and not lice or bed bugs, because I'd like to leave Hoi An solo.
On the bright side, I should be able to find a smallish piece of luggage to accommodate my new purchases for $10 max. And the food, while priced for tourists, is still pretty reasonable.
Tomorrow: cooking class, a self-guided city tour, a boat ride (yes, I'm going to cave), and shopping avoidance (unless I find something really irresistible, or cave in and have some shoes hand-made).
A word on the hotel: cute, nice service, a gym (first time there's been one of these in the 2 months I've been traveling). Sadly, the sheets seem to have not been washed (extreme measures are being taken to save energy, apparently) and there are a host of tiny bugs (and bigger spiders) everywhere. I'm hoping they tiny bugs are the kind that stay put, and not lice or bed bugs, because I'd like to leave Hoi An solo.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Graduate School Update
It is the start of the season for grad school news, and the first school reporting is the University of Wisconsin at Madison (its school of education is ranked number 2in the country by US News and World Report). They've offered me a spot in their Department of Educational Policy Studies, nominated me for a University Fellowship (apparently very competitive) and guaranteed me a different fellowship with the same funding (first and dissertator year) if I don't get the University Fellowship. So, very good news. I'll be updating my blog with grad school information (both good news and bad, if any) in the weeks to come (all decisions should be in within the next few weeks).
In Which I Make an Acquisition
Actually, I've done more than just shop in the last day and a half. That's just the most exciting thing.
This afternoon, we arrived in Hoi An (cute, relatively small, too many tourists and 300 tailor shops). After a very late lunch and a brief stroll around the old quarter, I wandered into a tailor shop. Okay, that makes it sound casual. Our tour leader took us to her preferred shop and explained that they normally gave her a kickback, but that she'd be giving it back to us. I kind of believe her.
Anyway, in about an hour or so, I got measured and photographed (clothed) and picked out fabric for a suit (Italian wool cashmere blend), coat and two shirts (Egyptian cotton, because I was too cheap to spring for Italian cotton). All of these tailor made clothes will set me back less than $300 and will be ready for fitting tomorrow at noon. If only I still had a life that required suits...
Morning in Hue was good. A little bittersweet, maybe. We took a tour of the royal compound, complete with Vietnam's Forbidden City. Unfortunately, 90% of the buildings were bombed during the war, so the Forbidden City exists only as a scale model.
We're staying in Hoi An a bit longer than necessary (3 nights in Hoi An, compared to 2 in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City). I'm not complaining, though: not only do I want to give the tailor sufficient time, but this is apparently a great place for cooking classes, and I'd love to learn how to make pho and fresh spring rolls. I imagine that in my new life as a graduate student living on a fixed income, I will actually spend some time cooking something other than cocktail party fare...
This afternoon, we arrived in Hoi An (cute, relatively small, too many tourists and 300 tailor shops). After a very late lunch and a brief stroll around the old quarter, I wandered into a tailor shop. Okay, that makes it sound casual. Our tour leader took us to her preferred shop and explained that they normally gave her a kickback, but that she'd be giving it back to us. I kind of believe her.
Anyway, in about an hour or so, I got measured and photographed (clothed) and picked out fabric for a suit (Italian wool cashmere blend), coat and two shirts (Egyptian cotton, because I was too cheap to spring for Italian cotton). All of these tailor made clothes will set me back less than $300 and will be ready for fitting tomorrow at noon. If only I still had a life that required suits...
Morning in Hue was good. A little bittersweet, maybe. We took a tour of the royal compound, complete with Vietnam's Forbidden City. Unfortunately, 90% of the buildings were bombed during the war, so the Forbidden City exists only as a scale model.
We're staying in Hoi An a bit longer than necessary (3 nights in Hoi An, compared to 2 in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City). I'm not complaining, though: not only do I want to give the tailor sufficient time, but this is apparently a great place for cooking classes, and I'd love to learn how to make pho and fresh spring rolls. I imagine that in my new life as a graduate student living on a fixed income, I will actually spend some time cooking something other than cocktail party fare...
Monday, February 16, 2009
Overnight Train to Hue: My Worst Nightmare (Literally)
Last night, we boarded an overnight train from Hanoi to Hue. We'd been warned that there were two types of trains: new ones, with clean sheets and TV, and old ones, with filthy sheets, possibly lice, and no TV. Guess which kind we ended up on?
Think that lice and dirty sheets are as bad as it gets? Think again. My cabin (which I shared with three of my tourmates), was next door to the party cabin: 4 strapping Australian boys who invited every girl under 25 with an urge to drink to come on over. Naturally, there was not enough room in their tiny cabin for them to shut the door, so they spilled out into the corridor into the wee hours of the morning, being progressively louder, more obnoxious, and unabashedly racist. Examples include one girl telling a boy that he looked a little "woggy" (if you don't know what that means, look it up, but my understanding is that it's a bit like telling someone that they look kind of black and using the N word), and several of them doing "impressions" of Vietnamese people, i.e., speaking gibberish. Needless to say, sleep did not come easily. And when it came, it was nightmares.
I won't recount them all (dreams always suffer in the retelling), but here's a snapshot of one: I get into a cab to visit a friend who lives in the French countryside, am let out of the cab in the middle of nowhere, promptly discover that the driver has taken all of my money, ID and my phone, and stumble upon an accident scene in which many people that I know have been severely injured (blindness, loss of limbs, etc.) I blame this entirely on the rowdy Australians, as I have not had a nightmare in years.
Worst overnight train ever!
Think that lice and dirty sheets are as bad as it gets? Think again. My cabin (which I shared with three of my tourmates), was next door to the party cabin: 4 strapping Australian boys who invited every girl under 25 with an urge to drink to come on over. Naturally, there was not enough room in their tiny cabin for them to shut the door, so they spilled out into the corridor into the wee hours of the morning, being progressively louder, more obnoxious, and unabashedly racist. Examples include one girl telling a boy that he looked a little "woggy" (if you don't know what that means, look it up, but my understanding is that it's a bit like telling someone that they look kind of black and using the N word), and several of them doing "impressions" of Vietnamese people, i.e., speaking gibberish. Needless to say, sleep did not come easily. And when it came, it was nightmares.
I won't recount them all (dreams always suffer in the retelling), but here's a snapshot of one: I get into a cab to visit a friend who lives in the French countryside, am let out of the cab in the middle of nowhere, promptly discover that the driver has taken all of my money, ID and my phone, and stumble upon an accident scene in which many people that I know have been severely injured (blindness, loss of limbs, etc.) I blame this entirely on the rowdy Australians, as I have not had a nightmare in years.
Worst overnight train ever!
Good Times in Halong Bay
After a chaotic time in Hanoi (those motorbikes are really frightening), we headed off to Halong Bay yesterday morning for an overnight cruise on a small junk. I had no idea what to expect, especially after our quaint but kind of sketchy slow boat to Luang Prabang. I was therefore totally unprepared for the amazing little boat that awaited us. For starters, the dining room was the nicest one we've had so far on the tour (with the exception of one of the nights I went out on my own). Really. Complete with bowls of lime and flower water for rinsing fingers between courses (there were several at each meal). Service so good that the waiters appeared to peel fruit, crack crabs, and generally anticipate our every move. Bonus: cute (although necessarily small) cabins, totally done in teak, with lovely, modern showers en suite and plush guest robes.
As for the bay itself, while the fog and mist were a little disappointing (obstructing the view), it was pretty great: crazy rock formations covered with trees (and occasionally buildings) jutting out of the water, some with caves and lagoons. This morning, before departing the bay, we took a ride out to a lagoon full of monkeys (I may be exaggerating when I say full of, but there were more than a dozen).
Back in Hanoi now, where I've walked around the Old Quarter while managing not to get hit by motorcycles. I'm awaiting the overnight train to Hue, hoping that we're on a new train (clean sheets).
As for the bay itself, while the fog and mist were a little disappointing (obstructing the view), it was pretty great: crazy rock formations covered with trees (and occasionally buildings) jutting out of the water, some with caves and lagoons. This morning, before departing the bay, we took a ride out to a lagoon full of monkeys (I may be exaggerating when I say full of, but there were more than a dozen).
Back in Hanoi now, where I've walked around the Old Quarter while managing not to get hit by motorcycles. I'm awaiting the overnight train to Hue, hoping that we're on a new train (clean sheets).
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Water Puppet Theatre Is Cool
Much better than without water. In 45 minutes, we managed to see a 17 scene show, complete with singers, musicians, and some very talented puppeteers (no, seriously). At times, it verged on Avenue Q-esque (that would be when the topless lady puppet came out to flirt with the guy fishing in a loin cloth, although purportedly they were trying to "catch a fox").
Another good thing: taxis in Hanoi. So cheap. The most I've paid is about $2.20 with tip (and that's when I had a sketchy driver who drove me a bit out of the way).
My congestion is clearing up nicely, thanks to some lovely Vietnamese meds I got for the low low price of $3.75.
Another good thing: taxis in Hanoi. So cheap. The most I've paid is about $2.20 with tip (and that's when I had a sketchy driver who drove me a bit out of the way).
My congestion is clearing up nicely, thanks to some lovely Vietnamese meds I got for the low low price of $3.75.
Hanoi: First Impressions
My initial assessment:
1 1/2 thumbs way up. I know, I know: this may not exactly be a ringing endorsement. The hotel is good: I'm finally in my own room, and other than the facts that the tub doesn't drain and the shower's cold, it's the best hotel I've stayed at on this trip (the Sheraton in Addis excepted, obviously).
First meal: special pho. According to our guide, this meant beef, pork and chicken. In reality, it meant beef flank, cow stomach and cow intestines. Either our guide hates me or she has no idea what she's doing.
Second meal (breakfast): pho bo (plain old beef). Third meal: same. I think I may have committed to a pho bo only diet for the next 11 days.
After a race walk to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum this morning (our guide fails to grasp that we may actually want to stroll through Hanoi and take pictures, and has the bad habit of never looking behind her to see if someone's fallen behind, so stopping for photos, or the toilet, or because of having been hit by a motorbike, is not an option). As for the mausoleum, I don't know what's freakier: that Uncle Ho is available for viewing, or that so many thousands of people line up every day to see him. He WAS glowing, but I assume that's just the lighting.
Other highlights: visiting all of uncle Ho's houses (conveniently located in a park next to his final resting place), followed by a visit to the 1000ish year old Temple of Literature (no great shakes, but I'm glad I went).
My plans for the rest of the day: find a pharmacy (I seem to have a cold, or bird flu or something), go to the Water Puppet Theatre, and bid farewell to 3 of my fellow tourists (sadly, not the racist one). Tomorrow morning, we're off to Halong Bay, where we'll be spending the night on a houseboat...
1 1/2 thumbs way up. I know, I know: this may not exactly be a ringing endorsement. The hotel is good: I'm finally in my own room, and other than the facts that the tub doesn't drain and the shower's cold, it's the best hotel I've stayed at on this trip (the Sheraton in Addis excepted, obviously).
First meal: special pho. According to our guide, this meant beef, pork and chicken. In reality, it meant beef flank, cow stomach and cow intestines. Either our guide hates me or she has no idea what she's doing.
Second meal (breakfast): pho bo (plain old beef). Third meal: same. I think I may have committed to a pho bo only diet for the next 11 days.
After a race walk to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum this morning (our guide fails to grasp that we may actually want to stroll through Hanoi and take pictures, and has the bad habit of never looking behind her to see if someone's fallen behind, so stopping for photos, or the toilet, or because of having been hit by a motorbike, is not an option). As for the mausoleum, I don't know what's freakier: that Uncle Ho is available for viewing, or that so many thousands of people line up every day to see him. He WAS glowing, but I assume that's just the lighting.
Other highlights: visiting all of uncle Ho's houses (conveniently located in a park next to his final resting place), followed by a visit to the 1000ish year old Temple of Literature (no great shakes, but I'm glad I went).
My plans for the rest of the day: find a pharmacy (I seem to have a cold, or bird flu or something), go to the Water Puppet Theatre, and bid farewell to 3 of my fellow tourists (sadly, not the racist one). Tomorrow morning, we're off to Halong Bay, where we'll be spending the night on a houseboat...
Thursday, February 12, 2009
More on the Annoying Kids in Vang Vieng
I was underestimating the number of western tourists. It seems that in the town of Vang Vieng, there are almost no Lao people. Just kids from the US, Europe, Canada, and Australia that have dropped out of society for an indefinite period of time and decided to drink themselves silly with other kids from the US, Europe, Canada and Australia. The scenery is beautiful, but if I wanted to see a bunch of slacker western kids (none of whom are ethnic, by the way), I'm sure there are plenty of dive bars I could visit in the US. I met some people on a bike tour of Laos (grownups who were on vacation), and one of them told me that 2 years ago, none of those kids were there. All I can say is that I wish I'd visited then.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
In Which I Encounter Far Too Many Western Tourists in Vang Vieng
I understand that I am a western tourist and have no right to judge, but when you can't throw a rock without hitting 10 hungover 20somethings with too many tats in a town of 25,000, well, I think I can judge. I'm not entirely sure what they do here, other than drinking at the bars on the river, or drinking while tubing down the river (then passing out and having to be taken by boat back to the town). All I can say is that I wish I had more time in Vientiane and less time in what appears to be spring break in Cancun with an opium chaser.
Interesting Times in Luang Prabang
My action-packed day in Luang Prabang continued for nearly 12 hours after I updated my blog mid-afternoon. The highlights: discovering authentic Lao nightlife. First, we went to a nearby Lao club, at which we were the only westerners, for some line dancing, bad slow dancing, and entertainment courtesy of a senior citizen drag queen. The club was a random mix of people (gay and straight, teens and seniors), all with two things in common: an inability to dance and a love of cheesiness. Good times.
Next stop: the hipper club in Luang Prabang, featuring hip hop, remixed Gloria Gaynor, and a younger crowd. Also, I made a discovery: in southeast Asia, the lady-boys (boys who wear makeup and carry purses) use the women's room. And no one thinks it's a big deal. Refreshing, but it does tend to make the lines longer.
Final stop: the bowling alley, the only place in Luang Prabang that sells alcohol after 12:30. Apparently, this is the entire party circuit in LP, and some people do it every night. Me: I'm getting too old.
Next stop: the hipper club in Luang Prabang, featuring hip hop, remixed Gloria Gaynor, and a younger crowd. Also, I made a discovery: in southeast Asia, the lady-boys (boys who wear makeup and carry purses) use the women's room. And no one thinks it's a big deal. Refreshing, but it does tend to make the lines longer.
Final stop: the bowling alley, the only place in Luang Prabang that sells alcohol after 12:30. Apparently, this is the entire party circuit in LP, and some people do it every night. Me: I'm getting too old.
In Which I Discover that a Fellow Traveler is a Not So Secret Racist
After a few days of additional consideration, I have decided that while my fellow travelers are pretty stupid, they are not altogether harmless. The worst offender: a middle-aged Australian woman who refers to blacks as "Negroes" and who had the gall to tell me that "we" always assume that Africans are so much more backwards than Asians, because "countries" like Africa, Ethiopia and Kenya are so poor. I couldn't let it go, so I had to give her a lecture about history (colonialism) and geography (the difference between a country and a continent). Not good. My goal for the next 3 weeks: avoiding said Australian.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
A Word on My Fellow Tourists in Southeast Asia
Okay, more than a word. But if I were to pick just one, it would be dim (it would be better if I could pick three: not too bright). Actually, some of them are fine, but a few of them (including the one I was stuck rooming with the first couple of days) just seem a little slow. Like asking if Kosovo is a city slow (maybe she should get points for having heard of it) or using a calculator to figure out what 20% of 10 is slow. Or (and for some reason, this REALLY got to me) asking me the definition of "random." Okay, let me stop whining. The real trouble is that 6 of the people in the group are married couples in their 50s/60s (nice, but kind of wanting to hang out with their spouses or each other), 5 of the people are between the ages of 19-25 (they are less strict about just hanging out with each other, but are very much into being kids), and one of them doesn't really speak English but still wants to engage me in conversation. So, that leaves me with our tour guide and one relatively smart, interesting person who works with special needs kids. It could be worse: none of these people are actually unpleasant or crazy , just possibly not the people I'm going to be feeling nostalgic about a month or two from now. If that's the worst that I can say about them, I think the trip will be fine.
Laos: Even Better Than Thailand
As I mentioned, my short time in Thailand (I'll be back at the end of the month, and probably again in the not too distant future) was pretty great. So far, though, Laos has been even better.
First, there's the wackiness of the transport. Random tuk tuks and little boats aside, the main mode of transport from Thailand the Luang Prabang (where I've been since last night) was slow boat. Which is an incredibly relaxing way to get from A to B, and would have been perfect if mornings on the water hadn't been so cold.
Then, there's the food, which is really good (a lot like Thai, really, but maybe just a little better, thanks to the French influence). Plus, the shopping has been good (and for a non-shopper, that's saying something). Who can resist beautiful (although possibly not handmade) scarves being sold for about $3? Not I.
Today (my first full day in Luang Prabang) has been great, although I'm amazed that I'm still standing. I woke up at 4:50 a.m. (earlier than for a morning game drive) to go feed the monks (which sounded great in theory but was a little too tourist-heavy). After that, we went to the morning market: excellent. Not only did we get to sample some pretty amazing food that was made as we waited, but we got to see some of the pretty insane food that the locals eat (bats, tadpoles, moles, parakeets). I am really looking forward to posting those photos. Following that, a few of us went with our guide to hang out at a local favorite that serves Lao coffee (crazy strong with a shot of condensed milk, like my great grandmother used to drink). Then breakfast, a tour of the Royal Palace (with some sketchy info as to whether the entire royal family was killed in 1975), a walk around town, an amazing lunch at a kind of posh restaurant (posh = $5-7 entrees), and a 90 minute massage. And I still have HOURS to go (we're going out at 10 to experience the Luang Prabang club scene). Excellent day.
First, there's the wackiness of the transport. Random tuk tuks and little boats aside, the main mode of transport from Thailand the Luang Prabang (where I've been since last night) was slow boat. Which is an incredibly relaxing way to get from A to B, and would have been perfect if mornings on the water hadn't been so cold.
Then, there's the food, which is really good (a lot like Thai, really, but maybe just a little better, thanks to the French influence). Plus, the shopping has been good (and for a non-shopper, that's saying something). Who can resist beautiful (although possibly not handmade) scarves being sold for about $3? Not I.
Today (my first full day in Luang Prabang) has been great, although I'm amazed that I'm still standing. I woke up at 4:50 a.m. (earlier than for a morning game drive) to go feed the monks (which sounded great in theory but was a little too tourist-heavy). After that, we went to the morning market: excellent. Not only did we get to sample some pretty amazing food that was made as we waited, but we got to see some of the pretty insane food that the locals eat (bats, tadpoles, moles, parakeets). I am really looking forward to posting those photos. Following that, a few of us went with our guide to hang out at a local favorite that serves Lao coffee (crazy strong with a shot of condensed milk, like my great grandmother used to drink). Then breakfast, a tour of the Royal Palace (with some sketchy info as to whether the entire royal family was killed in 1975), a walk around town, an amazing lunch at a kind of posh restaurant (posh = $5-7 entrees), and a 90 minute massage. And I still have HOURS to go (we're going out at 10 to experience the Luang Prabang club scene). Excellent day.
Thailand Rocks
So, I may have already mentioned that Thailand is great, especially after the tough travel that was Ethiopia, and the strangely even tougher travel that was safari, due to (1) camping, (2) the loser tour guide and (3) the crazy people. While the overnight train was not the best time ever (not even the best overnight train ride ever; that honor goes to my train my Cairo to Aswan), Chiang Mai was pretty great. I took a cooking class in the morning (made spring rolls, tom yum with shrimp, pad thai, and red curry with chicken).
In the afternoon, I took care of errands, and the hotel staff was amazingly helpful (so helpful, in fact, that the concierge offered to let me ride on the back of the bell boy's motorcycle to the post office. I declined in favor of a still pretty hazardous tuk tuk). I am (slightly) ashamed to admit that I made some purchases at the Chiang Mai night market of which my trademark lawyer and prosecutor friends may not approve: a Louis Vuitton vernis wallet and a Tiffany necklace that did not set me back more than $20. So, possibly not authentic.
I spent my third Thai day in Chiang Kong. Highlights: getting haircut from someone who didn't speak a word of English (it looks great) and hanging out with my guide and some of her Thai friends afterward, sampling Thai whiskey and half a dozen Thai dishes, all while not understanding a word they were saying. It reminded me of the good times I had hanging out with the drivers in Ethiopia, except that they actually tried to teach me some of the language.
But, I've left Thailand now, and Laos deserves its own post(s). Thailand rating so far: A-/B+ (would be higher, except that I have yet to find the elusive too spicy for me Thai food).
In the afternoon, I took care of errands, and the hotel staff was amazingly helpful (so helpful, in fact, that the concierge offered to let me ride on the back of the bell boy's motorcycle to the post office. I declined in favor of a still pretty hazardous tuk tuk). I am (slightly) ashamed to admit that I made some purchases at the Chiang Mai night market of which my trademark lawyer and prosecutor friends may not approve: a Louis Vuitton vernis wallet and a Tiffany necklace that did not set me back more than $20. So, possibly not authentic.
I spent my third Thai day in Chiang Kong. Highlights: getting haircut from someone who didn't speak a word of English (it looks great) and hanging out with my guide and some of her Thai friends afterward, sampling Thai whiskey and half a dozen Thai dishes, all while not understanding a word they were saying. It reminded me of the good times I had hanging out with the drivers in Ethiopia, except that they actually tried to teach me some of the language.
But, I've left Thailand now, and Laos deserves its own post(s). Thailand rating so far: A-/B+ (would be higher, except that I have yet to find the elusive too spicy for me Thai food).
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Fellow Travelers in East Africa
Crazy people can be great, until you have to hang out with them all day, every day.
Yoda/Patricia gets the prize. Going braless as a busty 72 year old would normally be enough, but not for her. Add on biker chick head gear, a past that includes owning 2 strip clubs, having the bad luck to have an attack of diarrhea while lying in her sleeping bag and the bad sense to tell everyone about it, and a tendency to do her laundry in the nude in shared public bathrooms, and you start to get the flavor. Definitely the winner.The runners up pale in comparison.
On the good side, we had a lovely French-Canadian family: hip parents in their late 30s, charming sisters of 12 and 13 who were smart and well-adjusted enough to be taken out of school for an extended trip in southern and eastern Africa. Bonus points to the mother of the family for giving me her pee tube (yay!).
Also great: a father and daughter (mid 40s and late 60s) from North Carolina traveling as a pair for the first time. The daughter and I had a lot in common (well, enough in common, plus she's incredibly nice), so I'm not surprised that we hit it off. What surprised me more is how much I liked her father: a registered Republican, former army chaplain from the South who said grace (aloud) the first time I ate dinner with them. He was also a huge practical joker, a great father and a really sweet man. So, lots of good family dynamics on the trip.
An honorable mention goes to another traveler, in her late 60s. I never got to know her as well as I would have liked, but she was very cool: a native Alabaman who moved to Colorado in her 40s to get a PhD and an MPH, she'd trekked in Nepal several times (in her 60s), wore an Obama bracelet every day (despite having a Republican husband in tow, the one whose disappearance caused Crazy to take off her bra) and always had a smile on her face (even when Crazy stole her binoculars). It's always nice to meet cool women of a certain age. Such a contrast to the bossy Canadian woman on my Ethiopian trip.
Given the presence of 7 very likable people on my safari, I guess it's not a surprise that I'm still dreaming about them...
Yoda/Patricia gets the prize. Going braless as a busty 72 year old would normally be enough, but not for her. Add on biker chick head gear, a past that includes owning 2 strip clubs, having the bad luck to have an attack of diarrhea while lying in her sleeping bag and the bad sense to tell everyone about it, and a tendency to do her laundry in the nude in shared public bathrooms, and you start to get the flavor. Definitely the winner.The runners up pale in comparison.
On the good side, we had a lovely French-Canadian family: hip parents in their late 30s, charming sisters of 12 and 13 who were smart and well-adjusted enough to be taken out of school for an extended trip in southern and eastern Africa. Bonus points to the mother of the family for giving me her pee tube (yay!).
Also great: a father and daughter (mid 40s and late 60s) from North Carolina traveling as a pair for the first time. The daughter and I had a lot in common (well, enough in common, plus she's incredibly nice), so I'm not surprised that we hit it off. What surprised me more is how much I liked her father: a registered Republican, former army chaplain from the South who said grace (aloud) the first time I ate dinner with them. He was also a huge practical joker, a great father and a really sweet man. So, lots of good family dynamics on the trip.
An honorable mention goes to another traveler, in her late 60s. I never got to know her as well as I would have liked, but she was very cool: a native Alabaman who moved to Colorado in her 40s to get a PhD and an MPH, she'd trekked in Nepal several times (in her 60s), wore an Obama bracelet every day (despite having a Republican husband in tow, the one whose disappearance caused Crazy to take off her bra) and always had a smile on her face (even when Crazy stole her binoculars). It's always nice to meet cool women of a certain age. Such a contrast to the bossy Canadian woman on my Ethiopian trip.
Given the presence of 7 very likable people on my safari, I guess it's not a surprise that I'm still dreaming about them...
My First 24 Hours in Thailand
Thumbs up on the Bangkok airport. It's no Dubai International (my new favorite airport), but nice and clean with plenty of lovely duty free merchandise.
The hotel: a little run down, but clean and well air-conditioned. Plus, good, cheap, relatively spicy food served while relatively talented Thai locals sing karaoke. Good times.
I'm already leaving Bangkok (tear), on an overnight train to Chiang Mai. In the time I was here (there), I got to take a boat tour (Klong tour, according to my itinerary)and visit Wat Po (some excellent structures and statues of golden Buddhas) and the Grand Palace (ditto).
Fellow travelers: not bad, but not particularly well-traveled. (Maybe starting with Ethiopia has its advantages: I seem like a really seasoned traveler.). My roommate has pretty limited English and is on her first trip outside Europe. There's a significant age gap: three couples in their 50s, 6 singles in their 20s, and me. One of my goals for the month: convincing one of the 20somethings who is just wrapping up her 4th year of teaching English in Korea not to go to law school just because she can't figure out what to do with her life.
Finally, it seems that I already miss my fellow travelers from Tanzania (well, some of them, anyway). I dreamt that I was sharing a room with my new Swiss roommate plus all 6 of the other passengers in my safari vehicle. It beats the dreams I had in Zanzibar, in which my fellow travelers from Ethiopia kept getting together for dinner without me. Funny, though, that I only dream about these people once they're no longer there. I refuse to over-think it.
Coming soon: still more about Ethiopia, Kenya and Tanzania.
The hotel: a little run down, but clean and well air-conditioned. Plus, good, cheap, relatively spicy food served while relatively talented Thai locals sing karaoke. Good times.
I'm already leaving Bangkok (tear), on an overnight train to Chiang Mai. In the time I was here (there), I got to take a boat tour (Klong tour, according to my itinerary)and visit Wat Po (some excellent structures and statues of golden Buddhas) and the Grand Palace (ditto).
Fellow travelers: not bad, but not particularly well-traveled. (Maybe starting with Ethiopia has its advantages: I seem like a really seasoned traveler.). My roommate has pretty limited English and is on her first trip outside Europe. There's a significant age gap: three couples in their 50s, 6 singles in their 20s, and me. One of my goals for the month: convincing one of the 20somethings who is just wrapping up her 4th year of teaching English in Korea not to go to law school just because she can't figure out what to do with her life.
Finally, it seems that I already miss my fellow travelers from Tanzania (well, some of them, anyway). I dreamt that I was sharing a room with my new Swiss roommate plus all 6 of the other passengers in my safari vehicle. It beats the dreams I had in Zanzibar, in which my fellow travelers from Ethiopia kept getting together for dinner without me. Funny, though, that I only dream about these people once they're no longer there. I refuse to over-think it.
Coming soon: still more about Ethiopia, Kenya and Tanzania.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
why i should blog every day
I realized that I made a reference to the Mursi village, but that I never initially discussed that tribe (or any other tribe in the south of Ethiopia). More to follow when I upload photos, but for now, just a little background.
The Mursi women are the ones you've seen pictures of, even if you didn't know their name. They have plates in their lips and ears, and when you remove the plate, you're left with a lower lip that hangs several inches and does not catch drool. Not a great look. The Mursi women also like to go topless.
During the trip to the south, we paid them a visit. Problem one: the second they see tourists, they start grabbing them and yelling "Photo! 2 birr (20 cents)." It's the only English they know, and they're persistent.
Problem two: the Mursi women are obsessed with breasts. When they're not demanding photos, they're grabbing the breasts of female tourists and pulling down their shirts and bras to get a better look. And contrary to what the local guide said, grabbing their breasts back does NOT make them stop. They think it's hysterical.
Problem three: some of the women demanding that their photos be taken have AK47's. It makes rejecting them pretty exciting.
Another wacky group: the Hammer people. Also topless, but not grabby. My biggest problems with Hammer culture: (1) they have ceremonies where the men whip their female relatives until they bleed and have permanent scars. Apparently a sign of the women's devotion/loyalty; and (2) in order to marry a girl, regardless of her wishes, all a guy has to do is find her out in public (say, at the market) and put either cow dung or butter in her hand. And presto: they're married. As if getting cow dung on your hand wasn't bad enough...
The Mursi women are the ones you've seen pictures of, even if you didn't know their name. They have plates in their lips and ears, and when you remove the plate, you're left with a lower lip that hangs several inches and does not catch drool. Not a great look. The Mursi women also like to go topless.
During the trip to the south, we paid them a visit. Problem one: the second they see tourists, they start grabbing them and yelling "Photo! 2 birr (20 cents)." It's the only English they know, and they're persistent.
Problem two: the Mursi women are obsessed with breasts. When they're not demanding photos, they're grabbing the breasts of female tourists and pulling down their shirts and bras to get a better look. And contrary to what the local guide said, grabbing their breasts back does NOT make them stop. They think it's hysterical.
Problem three: some of the women demanding that their photos be taken have AK47's. It makes rejecting them pretty exciting.
Another wacky group: the Hammer people. Also topless, but not grabby. My biggest problems with Hammer culture: (1) they have ceremonies where the men whip their female relatives until they bleed and have permanent scars. Apparently a sign of the women's devotion/loyalty; and (2) in order to marry a girl, regardless of her wishes, all a guy has to do is find her out in public (say, at the market) and put either cow dung or butter in her hand. And presto: they're married. As if getting cow dung on your hand wasn't bad enough...
Some Thoughts on My Safari
I have mixed feelings about my safari. (I know, shocking.) Obviously, seeing scores of (adult and baby) lions, leopards, cheetahs, elephants, zebras, giraffes, rhinos, hippos, and other (somewhat less exciting) animals in their natural habitats was great.
Also great: visiting a Masai village in Kenya and an orphanage in Tanzania. (Great in very different ways, obviously.)
Plus, with the exception of a few campers who will get their own special entry, I liked my fellow tourists quite a bit.
Now, the bad. First, the tour leader was the worst I've ever had (his butchering of the English language, body odor and inability to comprehend personal space were bad enough, but the real problem was his inability to lead. Second, camping. I hate it. Especially since rainy season came early this year, and I spent my last night of camping in a wet tent on a wet mattress with a wet sleeping bag in temperatures approaching freezing (who knew the Ngorongoro Crater got so cold?) Not fun. Third (another big surprise): the toilets. Better than Ethiopia, but still a challenge.
For all my complaints about Ethiopia (and it was a tough trip), I think the tour leaders and drivers were so much better than the staff for safari that it's hard to believe it's the same company. Also, I think I prefer cultural tourism to just driving around looking at animals (although not the Mursi village breast attack type of cultural tourism).
Oh, and remember how I'm so popular in Africa because I'm black? Well, one Tanzanian was so pleased to see me that he yelled "Hey, Blackie! How ya doing?" as I walked down the street in Arusha. Smooth.
Also great: visiting a Masai village in Kenya and an orphanage in Tanzania. (Great in very different ways, obviously.)
Plus, with the exception of a few campers who will get their own special entry, I liked my fellow tourists quite a bit.
Now, the bad. First, the tour leader was the worst I've ever had (his butchering of the English language, body odor and inability to comprehend personal space were bad enough, but the real problem was his inability to lead. Second, camping. I hate it. Especially since rainy season came early this year, and I spent my last night of camping in a wet tent on a wet mattress with a wet sleeping bag in temperatures approaching freezing (who knew the Ngorongoro Crater got so cold?) Not fun. Third (another big surprise): the toilets. Better than Ethiopia, but still a challenge.
For all my complaints about Ethiopia (and it was a tough trip), I think the tour leaders and drivers were so much better than the staff for safari that it's hard to believe it's the same company. Also, I think I prefer cultural tourism to just driving around looking at animals (although not the Mursi village breast attack type of cultural tourism).
Oh, and remember how I'm so popular in Africa because I'm black? Well, one Tanzanian was so pleased to see me that he yelled "Hey, Blackie! How ya doing?" as I walked down the street in Arusha. Smooth.
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