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Limes and peppers for sale on the streets of Hà Nội March 2004
| Việt Nam | ||
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My Itinerary ![]() |
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Colonial architecture, Hà Nội March 2004
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My friend who sold me some souveiners, Hà Nội March 2004
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Hà Nội at night March 2004
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Traffic in Hà Nội March 2004
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Selling challots, Hà Nội March 2004
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Garlic and peppers for sale on the streets of Hà Nội March 2004
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Traffic in Hà Nội March 2004
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Hà Nội March 2004
| Việt Nam Journal Entries | ||
Sunday, 22 February, 2004 3:43P I actually crossed into Việt Nam two days ago. The crossing was a rough one for me. Getting to the border involved 24 hours of nonstop travel and entailed a train and an all-night Chinese sleeper bus. Envision a can of sardines rolling around the Santa Cruz mountains at about 65 miles an hour a dirt road with potholes that is. To top it off, I had diarrhea. I don't know why it always happens on these marathon trips, and I won't get too specific here, but let's just say that Chinese bus pit stops involve communal restrooms where everyone sorta crotches together and simultaneously socializes while relieving themselves. What's privacy? The plumbing is simply a white tile-lined trough that runs the length of the room. I had the misfortune of picking the drain end of the trough, and I was startled as someone did the “big flush.” As I sat there with the best of them, I simply thought: Why me? It was definitely a low point. We eventually get to the border at dawn and arrive to the sight of elder Chinese doing healing TaiQi stretches against the backdrop of a muddy river and Việt Nam on the other side. The peaceful air is ruined by propaganda being spewed via loudspeaker across the river into China. It is bizarre, to say the least. The TiaQi goers simply ignore the noise; I am astounded by it. Then it starts raining and everything get muddy. Shit, where is that plastic bag for my guitar? I step in another puddle and mud balls on the souls of my shoes. I cross the river bridge and am in Việt Nam and suddenly there are about 100 diesel trucks that I have to slalom through and my cough gets worse as I inhale the gray fumes, I get more muddy, and all the while these pushy Vietnamese touts are asking me “Where you go?” “Change-a-money?” Luckily African borders taught me all the patience I would ever need in these situations. I sorta just flow through it. Deep down, though, I am panicking but never let 'em see you sweat. I do have one advantage, in the form a fellow Japanese traveler I met at the border moments before. Although he speaks little English, we stick together, manage to change money at the bank, and get a minibus jam packed with local Vietnamese to Sapa village. Thank goodness. 2 hours later, after endless switchbacks and an ascent of about one vertical mile, we arrive to Sapa and are welcomed by the thickest split-pea fog I have ever seen. My god? What the heck? Where am I? No sooner does this wild tribal woman emerge and walk up to me and shows me her ware.
Then there are two more, and then suddenly, I have half the H'mong tribal group following me and my mud around town the whilst trying to find a hotel. This is where things suddenly turn up. Myself, being a big fan of tribal folks, am suddenly in my element. I gesture with them, joke around a bit, and produce some smiles. We suddenly find a great hotel, I take a long, hot shower, and the fun begins. The next day the fog clears, and just in time, because it is market day. Villagers arrive from up to 20 km away, all deck out in their latest tribal fashions. There are mostly Black H'mong (mostly dressed in cool colors of blue, purple, black) and Zai with their red turban hat things and silver multi-beaded necklaces. I also meet several elder women who died their teeth black. Jet black, blacker than night, blacker than a Sudanese in summer, these teeth looked so bad, yet in their eyes, it was mere beauty. Strange. The day ended in a sunset hike and an outstanding French-Vietnamese dinner. But it was today that topped it all. I find myself in a “whitey” foreigner tour group going to see the flower H'mong, friendly rivals of the Black H'mong tribe I'd seen in Sapa. The 3-hour bus ride takes us to the remote village of Bac Ha, where it is seriously outta control. Just think of anything and it was there, but what caught my eye the most was the colorful dresses of the flower H'mong women whose dress rivals that of the fiercest African tribes I saw in Kenya. Yet these women were not fierce, they just tromped around town draped in layers of multicolored fabric with bell ringing, smiling, and mostly ignoring us “strange looking pale people.” The great thing about it all is that if none of us tourist where here, everyone would still be wearing the same outfits. I took some of the best people photos of my life and am eagerly awaiting the time when I can place them on my Web site. But judging by the slow Internet speeds here (and hate mail from my web hosting company for too much CPU usage) that won't be for a while. Well, its time for another papaya juice. Stay tuned . Gosh, I miss you all With love, Brian
24 February, 2004 7:56A
27 - 29 February, 2004
2 March, 2004
Now, Huế really is my favorite city in Nam. The women wear these traditional silk blouses that flow in the wind as they ride their bikes with perfect posture. To compliment are silk pants, often different and more exotic in color, also drooping in the wind a split-second behind their bike. Get three of four of these together and it would make anyone's heart yearn. The Nguyen Tombs have been sensational, as was the citadel enclosure complete with temples, imperial pagodas, gardens, ponds, arches, etc. Now talk about your motorbike accident.
Wednesday, 3 March 2004 7:11:11A Things are speeding along here and I will go to Nha Trang next and then Saigon/HCMC. I will then take a brief tour of the Mekong Delta region and then on March 10 I will exit into Cambodia and go directly to Phnom Pen for about 5 days. I have been rushing a bit here, as to avoid the rainy season that is coming up in May. I should be in India in June. Jonathan will be there as well and hopefully we can meet up. In the meantime, I am really achieving exactly what I want to be doing right now. I am very proud that I worked and saved diligently and that I am doing what I set out to do. I know that when I return to the states, it will be no problem changing gears and working again, however, I have to say, that I think I will miss it dearly here. SEAsia, other than California, is my most favorite place on the planet. I am sure many people would agree.
Thursday, 4 March, 2004
Monday, 8 March, 2004 2:18A
20 February - 10 March, 2004 |
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