I have just spent 24 hours in the Mekong Delta, a brief taster or the week I will spend in Tra Vinh with Violet, starting on Wednesday. On this short trip I believe I consumed every single incarnation of coconut under the sun. My mother would have been horrified (she hates coconut). We had coconut candy, fish in coconut sauce, coconut water, dried coconut, fresh coconut, coconut wine. The only thing missing was the Malibu. We also stayed in a coconut plantation, swung in hammocks in the shade of coconut palms, tried to shimmy up coconut trees, were rowed around in coconut wood boats, walked by piles and piles of coconuts, took pictures of growing coconuts, cycled around coconut farms, watched coconut shells float by us in the river and narrowly avoided getting hit on the head by falling coconuts. In short, my first impression of the area around Violet's new home is coconutty.
In other news, I am preparing to leave the safety of the group tour and make forages into solo tourism. I feel mighty intrepid and adventurous and independent. Also a teeny tiny bit petrified. I have already booked a hostel for me to stay in for the next couple of days before I start my trip down to Tra Vinh, although I have to admit that I chickened out of the slightly cheaper shared dorm in favour of my own room. It only made a couple of dollars difference per night and I'm a wimp. I will be in Saigon until Wednesday and then I'm catching a local bus to Tra Vinh, because I'm adventurous like that, and also because there is no tourist bus because, despite the Lonely Planet's enthusiasm, no one wants to go to Tra Vinh. My tour guide is going to help me buy the ticket, because my Vietnamese hasn't really progressed beyond, hello, thank you, cheers, I am very tired and counting to three. And in all honesty no one seems to understand me when I say these things. And that's all folks!
Saturday, 17 September 2011
War Remnants Museum
The first thing we did the first day we arrived in Saigon was a trip to the War Remnants Museum. Well, actually, this isn't strictly true, the very first thing we did was check into the hotel, which, by the way, is the fanciest of fancy hotels and has a gold and cream colour scheme, and then we went for lunch at the same place Clinton lunched when he came to visit Saigon. But after these things the very first thing we did was to visit the War Remnants Museum.
I am going to stop being jokey now, because this was a fairly serious and sombre event, and prompted the deepest conversations the group has had since starting the trip, also the first group tears. Thus I invite you, blog reader, into the world of serious blogging, here I will make a brief sojourn.
The museum is right in the centre of Saigon, and we had to pay to enter, and it was honestly one of the most chilling museums I have ever been to, it was right up there with the Red Cross Museum in Geneva. It focused mainly on the anti-war movement around the world, the war crimes committed against Vietnam during the war, and the continuing effects of Agent Orange.
This last was the most upsetting as there were pictures of young children and unborn babies with various birth defects becaus of the chemicals used by the American Army. It struck me that although I had learnt about the effects of Agent Orange during GCSE History, and I had seen many of the photographs before, I was more shocked by them than I had been in the past. I'm not sure whether it was due to being actually in the country where it had occured, or being older, or a combination of the two, but the horror of the Vietnam War hadn't really affected me in the same way before. What I also hadn't considered seriously before was the lingering effects of war on the Vietnamese people.
Over dinner the girls and I discussed how perhaps the reason why the Vietnam war didn't seem so real to us before was because in our own way, less seriously, less dramatically, less painfully, less physically, but still in a real way to us, we were ourselves the third generation affected by our own war. We discussed to what extent the war was talked about at home, and in what ways it had impacted the lives of our grand-parents, parents and by association us. It was really interesting to hear everyone's stories and to think about the potential links between us, and the third generation affected by Agent Orange. It makes me think though, to what extent will my children be affected by the ghosts of war, and how many generations will it take Vietnam to recover from the atrocities committed within its borders.
I am going to stop being jokey now, because this was a fairly serious and sombre event, and prompted the deepest conversations the group has had since starting the trip, also the first group tears. Thus I invite you, blog reader, into the world of serious blogging, here I will make a brief sojourn.
The museum is right in the centre of Saigon, and we had to pay to enter, and it was honestly one of the most chilling museums I have ever been to, it was right up there with the Red Cross Museum in Geneva. It focused mainly on the anti-war movement around the world, the war crimes committed against Vietnam during the war, and the continuing effects of Agent Orange.
This last was the most upsetting as there were pictures of young children and unborn babies with various birth defects becaus of the chemicals used by the American Army. It struck me that although I had learnt about the effects of Agent Orange during GCSE History, and I had seen many of the photographs before, I was more shocked by them than I had been in the past. I'm not sure whether it was due to being actually in the country where it had occured, or being older, or a combination of the two, but the horror of the Vietnam War hadn't really affected me in the same way before. What I also hadn't considered seriously before was the lingering effects of war on the Vietnamese people.
Over dinner the girls and I discussed how perhaps the reason why the Vietnam war didn't seem so real to us before was because in our own way, less seriously, less dramatically, less painfully, less physically, but still in a real way to us, we were ourselves the third generation affected by our own war. We discussed to what extent the war was talked about at home, and in what ways it had impacted the lives of our grand-parents, parents and by association us. It was really interesting to hear everyone's stories and to think about the potential links between us, and the third generation affected by Agent Orange. It makes me think though, to what extent will my children be affected by the ghosts of war, and how many generations will it take Vietnam to recover from the atrocities committed within its borders.
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Toes
I'm going to give you fair warning right now, this is going to be a post all about my feet. If you are uninterested in my feet, or share my dislike for feet in general, please feel free to disregard this post entirely.
And so onward to the post itself. My feet have been more than a little bit gross since my horrific frisbee accident this winter, however, just over a week in flip flops in Asia really hasn't helped the situation at all. In short I have 9 nails, two of which are pretty broken, the remaining nail I have nicknamed Mr Stumpy, because he is very very stumpy, although he is working very hard on growing and being healthy.
Today I decided enough was enough, and I sallied forth into Hoi An and got myself a pedicure. Now I am not normally in the habit of getting pedicures, in fact, I am not normally in the habit of letting people touch my feet with a barge pole, but today I made an exception.
To give the girl credit she did take my gross gross feet with exceptional grace, and she has fixed them up a treat. She has hidden Mr Stumpy away behind a fake nail, she has hidden the other nails away behind a generous coat of silver nail varnish, and she has generally cleaned my whole toe area. It's fantastic, from a distance it looks almost as though I have 10 healthy toe nails. This might be an experiment worth repeating.
And so onward to the post itself. My feet have been more than a little bit gross since my horrific frisbee accident this winter, however, just over a week in flip flops in Asia really hasn't helped the situation at all. In short I have 9 nails, two of which are pretty broken, the remaining nail I have nicknamed Mr Stumpy, because he is very very stumpy, although he is working very hard on growing and being healthy.
Today I decided enough was enough, and I sallied forth into Hoi An and got myself a pedicure. Now I am not normally in the habit of getting pedicures, in fact, I am not normally in the habit of letting people touch my feet with a barge pole, but today I made an exception.
To give the girl credit she did take my gross gross feet with exceptional grace, and she has fixed them up a treat. She has hidden Mr Stumpy away behind a fake nail, she has hidden the other nails away behind a generous coat of silver nail varnish, and she has generally cleaned my whole toe area. It's fantastic, from a distance it looks almost as though I have 10 healthy toe nails. This might be an experiment worth repeating.
Stats.
You guys, I was just checking out my stats page, looking at who's reading me, because I have a healthy ego like that, and my loyal reader from Argentina has swung by again. Now I can figure out roughly who is reading me in Switzerland, Germany, France, and Holland, I know I know people in the US and UK, but dear Argeninian reader, who are you? I am so curious it's making me crazy. Please come forward and tell me who you are and I will give you a prize of your choosing. Perhaps even a postcard.
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Rain rain go away
One thing I can say for Vietnam is that it sure does know how to rain. And it seems to know when to do so to be least convenient. Our sleeping under the stars in Halong Bay got rained off, as did the sunrise outing the following morning, rain struck again yesterday just in time for our cycle tour and BBQ on the sand dunes at sunset. Brilliant. I actually cannot remember the last time I was so thoroughly soaked. It was horrific. We ended up having the BBQ inside, and didn't see the sunset at all. Still the food was very nice even if we were a little damp at the time of eating it. And there was cheap beer, so you can hardly complain.
Last night since we were damp and chilly, and one of the girls has a nasty coldy thing, we decided to have a night in, and watch some Vietnamese TV. Which, can I point out, is brilliant! We watched Miss Universe with annoying Vietnamese commentary and the some male catwalk show, some cartoons and Chinese MTV, snuggled up in bed with cookies and water and all the viroids. It was a good evening.
Many, many shopping adventures have happened in Hoi An, and I can safely say I have spent too much money, and have probably been swindled more than once, but I did get some clothes specially tailored for me, while the tailor laughed at my thigh bruise, and I bought some very inexpensive t-shirts advertising beer. We've also been at the standard tourist shopping, and I have a couple of souveniers already and am collecting a some bits and bobs for myself, although I'm saving the big shop for when I get to Saigon towards the end of my trip.
The hotel we are staying at has a pool and a beauty parlour and we are very much taking advantage of this because it is at least 800 thousand degrees out and very muggy and we are all dying hot sweaty deaths, it is far too hot to move during the day, but luckily everything seems to stay open until late at night, so it's not too much of a problem.
Last night since we were damp and chilly, and one of the girls has a nasty coldy thing, we decided to have a night in, and watch some Vietnamese TV. Which, can I point out, is brilliant! We watched Miss Universe with annoying Vietnamese commentary and the some male catwalk show, some cartoons and Chinese MTV, snuggled up in bed with cookies and water and all the viroids. It was a good evening.
Many, many shopping adventures have happened in Hoi An, and I can safely say I have spent too much money, and have probably been swindled more than once, but I did get some clothes specially tailored for me, while the tailor laughed at my thigh bruise, and I bought some very inexpensive t-shirts advertising beer. We've also been at the standard tourist shopping, and I have a couple of souveniers already and am collecting a some bits and bobs for myself, although I'm saving the big shop for when I get to Saigon towards the end of my trip.
The hotel we are staying at has a pool and a beauty parlour and we are very much taking advantage of this because it is at least 800 thousand degrees out and very muggy and we are all dying hot sweaty deaths, it is far too hot to move during the day, but luckily everything seems to stay open until late at night, so it's not too much of a problem.
Favourite
Every single place we have been to so far, I have shown up and been all, this is my favourite so far, Sapa with it's amazing rice terraces, and inordinately friendly peole, Halong Bay with it's beautiful coastal waters, Hue, with it's history and hilarious night life. But Hoi An is something else. Granted it had an unfair advantage in that we got here on the night of the autumn full moon festival, when there were hoards of adorable children running around dressed up and carrying lanterns. When the river was full not only of beautiful old boats, but hundreds of floating candles in coloured paper shells. When the air was filled with incense, and smoke, and music, and laughter. When every single branch of every single tree was hung with brightly coloured lanterns. When everyone was out on the streets having a good time. I know I'm delving into the murkey world of written cliche, but Hoi An is one giant oriental cliché, and I love it.
Monday, 12 September 2011
What up Hue.
We spent just over 24 hours in Hue, making it one of the most ram packed days of the trip. We got off our 13(!) hour sleeper train not so very refreshed, and went straight for breakfast before hopping onto the back of a pack of Xe Om (the Vietnamese name for motorbike taxis) and speeding off on our adventures around Hue.
It is worth pointing out before I go further the adventures I had actually getting on the Xe Om in the first place. I have managed to acquire one of my many inconvenient injuries, sustained in un-dramatic ways, this time a freak swimming accident resulted in a bruise approximately the size and a shape if the short end of a brick on the inside of my thigh. Which wouldn't really be an issue if it hadn't been for the fact that I had to get on a motorbike. However, I was a woman with a plan; I had seen Violet ride Xe Om side saddle in Hanoi, and figured this would be the perfect way to get around the bruise issue. All I needed to do was convince my driver of the genius of my idea He didn't seem convinced at first but I figured it was because he hadn't understood the term bruise, so I showed him. This seemed to do the trick, although it may have been because he was so shocked at seeing a woman's inner thigh that he didn't really know what to do. And so we set on our merry way.
While gladding about on our motorbikes I made the world's fattest stick of incense, visited an orphanage, watched a conical hat being made and other such typical touristy type activities, however the best by far was the agricultural museum where I made friends with the oldest lady I have ever met. She was tiny, dressed entirely in purple and had about two teeth, she was also brilliant. Her job seemed to be to demonstrate all the farming equipment in the museum, which she did with much gusto and sound effects. She took a shining to me when she was showing is how to plough a field for rice, while demonstrating the buffalo whip she decided that the whole thing would be more realistic if she whipped something that more closely resembled a buffalo. Apparently I was that something.
After this I was included in all her demonstrations, including how to water a rice field, how to catch a fish in a rice field, and finally how to chew erica beans (in case you're wondering the correct answer to this last one is don't if you can possibly avoid it.) then she figured out we had matching green Vietnamese bangles, mine being a gift from Violet on my first day, and this cemented our friendship for ever in her mind. She even had me sit next to her on her tiny tiny wicker sofa, which by rights shouldn't have been large enough to hold a baby.
In the evening we took part in the most ridiculously touristy activity in which I have ever indulged. We dressed up as members of the royal court in Hue from around the turn of the century, and ate a special royal banquet while being serenaded by special royal music. In case you were wondering about the ridiculousness of this; there were hats, one of them had a pom pom on.
We finished the most absurd day in the history of absurd days in a club called Brown Eyes, which promised on the fliers to be "strongly in bed". In fact, I spent the evening listening to classic pop, watching the rugby, drinking something called a "leg opener" while being force fed various free shots which were a dubious green colour, surrounded by Dutch bunting.
It is days like this, among other things which make me really love my life. Until next time loyal blog readers!
It is worth pointing out before I go further the adventures I had actually getting on the Xe Om in the first place. I have managed to acquire one of my many inconvenient injuries, sustained in un-dramatic ways, this time a freak swimming accident resulted in a bruise approximately the size and a shape if the short end of a brick on the inside of my thigh. Which wouldn't really be an issue if it hadn't been for the fact that I had to get on a motorbike. However, I was a woman with a plan; I had seen Violet ride Xe Om side saddle in Hanoi, and figured this would be the perfect way to get around the bruise issue. All I needed to do was convince my driver of the genius of my idea He didn't seem convinced at first but I figured it was because he hadn't understood the term bruise, so I showed him. This seemed to do the trick, although it may have been because he was so shocked at seeing a woman's inner thigh that he didn't really know what to do. And so we set on our merry way.
While gladding about on our motorbikes I made the world's fattest stick of incense, visited an orphanage, watched a conical hat being made and other such typical touristy type activities, however the best by far was the agricultural museum where I made friends with the oldest lady I have ever met. She was tiny, dressed entirely in purple and had about two teeth, she was also brilliant. Her job seemed to be to demonstrate all the farming equipment in the museum, which she did with much gusto and sound effects. She took a shining to me when she was showing is how to plough a field for rice, while demonstrating the buffalo whip she decided that the whole thing would be more realistic if she whipped something that more closely resembled a buffalo. Apparently I was that something.
After this I was included in all her demonstrations, including how to water a rice field, how to catch a fish in a rice field, and finally how to chew erica beans (in case you're wondering the correct answer to this last one is don't if you can possibly avoid it.) then she figured out we had matching green Vietnamese bangles, mine being a gift from Violet on my first day, and this cemented our friendship for ever in her mind. She even had me sit next to her on her tiny tiny wicker sofa, which by rights shouldn't have been large enough to hold a baby.
In the evening we took part in the most ridiculously touristy activity in which I have ever indulged. We dressed up as members of the royal court in Hue from around the turn of the century, and ate a special royal banquet while being serenaded by special royal music. In case you were wondering about the ridiculousness of this; there were hats, one of them had a pom pom on.
We finished the most absurd day in the history of absurd days in a club called Brown Eyes, which promised on the fliers to be "strongly in bed". In fact, I spent the evening listening to classic pop, watching the rugby, drinking something called a "leg opener" while being force fed various free shots which were a dubious green colour, surrounded by Dutch bunting.
It is days like this, among other things which make me really love my life. Until next time loyal blog readers!
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