Saturday, January 24, 2004
Tet in Vietnam
Saigon, Vietnam
We had been told that Saigon aka Ho Chi Minh City (most people still refer to it by its old name) is a sprawling huge metropolis. Sure enough, as we drove into the city on our way down from Mui Ne, we passed through several ?towns? consisting of shop houses, restaurants, churches, temples and gazillion motor bikes. Apparently there are 22 districts, of which 12 belong to the city proper. The entire HCMC area houses 6.8 million people.
On January 19th, we arrived in the busiest city of the country. We checked into the Thien Tung Hotel, which lies across from the Ben Thanh Market (the huge central market). After leaving our bags in our rooms, we walked towards the backpacker district (just 10 minutes away) for lunch. On the way, we walked by a promenade that is entirely covered with flowers and plants. This temporary display of shops was set up just for Tet. Men and women were there, haggling over the price of their orchids and kumquat trees. Some vendors were creative, and arranged their kumquat trees in the shape of a dragon topiary. It was incredible to see how many plants were available for sale, just for this special event.
We ate at the Alley Boo, and then booked our tour to the Cu Chi Tunnels for the 24th. Before we left our hotel, we manage to get in touch with our friend Mike, aka Gunga from Vancouver, and arranged to meet up later in the evening. Outside the Alley Boo, 7 cyclos were waiting to take us on a tour of the city.
Our first stop was the War Remnants Museum (used to be called the American War Museum). It was very poignant to see all the photos on display, of the war and the aftermath. Even as late as November of 2003, people were still being killed or lost limbs due to the explosions of baby bombs and land mines in the countryside. Obviously much of the Museum pointed to the atrocity performed by the United States, very much a one-sided viewpoint. The most unexpected item on display was a large bottle, with 2 fetuses that were preserved by formaldehyde. These were fetuses whose parents were affected by Agent Orange; one had two heads off the same body, while the other was labeled ?monster?.
Back on our cyclos, which by the way, is a great way to see the city even though many people are trying to ban them from the streets, we next visited the Notre Dame Cathedral, the Grand Post Office, a beautiful colonial building built by the French, the City Hall and Rex Hotel (where Gunga is staying with his family), a 360 degree view of the city from the Panorama Restaurant, and the Saigon River.
We met up with Gunga and his family in the lobby at their hotel at 6pm, and his parents treated us to a delicious dinner at a local restaurant. There were so many people at this restaurant, a sign of good food. They ordered several ?gourmet? dishes since we were there; grasshoppers, kangaroo and deer meat, and elephant ear fish. The grasshoppers tasted much better than the scorpions we had in China. Softer and with delicious sauce, they have the texture of shrimp tails. Ming, Gunga?s sister refused to eat any.
After dinner, we walked along the streets of Saigon, marveling at the beautiful lights strung out in celebration of Tet. There were lights of all colours; white, red, yellow, blue and greet. Many trees were individually covered with lights, tree trunks were wrapped in silk fabric, with a bow, flowers decorated every corner of the boulevard, and hotels had huge displays of flowers, plants, lights and lanterns. It?s definitely the place to be, to see the grandeur of Tet. Apparently the Saigon or Vietnamese Government (we?re not sure which) has decided that from now on, the streets of the downtown area (also called District 1) will also be beautifully decorated for Tet. It is an attempt to make the city beautiful for ?tourists? in hopes of a growth in the tourism industry. I have heard that since September 11th, tourism has increased in this country.
There were many people out and about enjoying the cool breeze (it?s hot and muggy in the sun during the day) and beautiful lights and decorations. We have never seen so many motorbikes/scooters before. They whizzed by all over the place, though we have gotten accustomed to crossing the road now. We were much more comfortable with traffic here, though the number of vehicles on the road is much higher. We think that people drive slower here, or it could be that we?ve just gotten better at confronting the bikes.
The next morning, we left for Chau Doc, a town just 3km away from Cambodia in the Mekong Delta. It was a long drive, about 7 hours, but we were in a very comfortable bus, so that was fine. Along the way, we stopped by to visit a Cao Dai Temple. Cao Dai is a religion that worships many gods: Jesus, Confucius, Buddha, Hindu Gods, Tao and a couple others. The temples are shaped like cathedrals, with 2 towers, with a huge seeing-eye in the middle of the building. It?s a cross between Eastern and Western architecture with flowers and animals adorning the walls.
Arriving in Chau Doc, we drove through the small streets where people were busy hoisting their Vietnamese flags outside their homes and shops. Apparently it is a law that every house has to fly a flag on a national holiday, and Tet is considered the biggest holiday in the country. School children get 4 days before and after the new year as holidays, while businesses are closed for 3 days after new year.
It was incredible to see how busy everyone was in their preparations. Floors are scrubbed, including sidewalks. Altars were lit with fancy lights or red bulbs. Plum trees with yellow blossoms in ceramic pots laid in the middle or front of the family?s living room. Bunches of Marigolds were purchased by women to display at their home (the gold colour symbolizes wealth). Red paper lucky signs and lucky envelopes were sold by the thousands all over the market. Martial art associations practiced their lion and dragon dances, with drums and cymbals. We felt drawn into the celebrations, just by walking down the streets. CNY is as special to the Chinese people as Tet is to the Vietnamese; hence we were glad to be in this country so that we could partake in the festivities.
We went to visit Sam Mountain, the only ?hill? in the area of flat paddy fields. We could see the Cambodian border from the top, and lush green paddy fields ready for harvesting. We ended up drinking several cans of beer and soft drinks up at the peak, till it was dark, enjoying the conversations and the view. We went back to Chau Doc and enjoyed a lovely dinner. The ?younger? ones all went to the disco afterwards and had a good time. Winston and I walked around town. Gosh, we are getting old.
On the eve of lunar new year, 21st of January, we opted not to go on a motorbike tour with the rest of the group. Instead, we were drawn into the bustling market, where women were busy buying their produce and meat for the evening?s feast. The dinner on NY Eve is the most important meal of the event. People celebrate the end of the year, and pray for a better new year. At the market, we had to dodge motorbikes, bicycles and the local people who all hurried about. In one case, a woman stepped on my ankle to get by. Yuck, needless to say, the floor of the market is not exactly clean.
We soaked in all we saw at the market: fresh fish swimming in round bins; a woman cleaning the scales off a fish as it struggles; snakes crawling about in a cage; pork stands in one corner (my least favourite area) ? there are no chickens right now due to the Chicken Flu scare; hundreds of bananas in bunches still hanging on their stem; fruits of all colours and sizes; the sweet goodies for the new year; and the sound of drums for the lion dance.
In the afternoon, we went on a boat ride along the river. Visiting a fish farm, we learnt about catfish farming. It costs 400million dong to own on of these. We also saw a canal where smugglers from Cambodia run across, catch a boat to Chau Doc, and unload their goods. We actually saw a smuggler when we were going by, with his plastic backpack. Our last stop was a Muslim village, a very interesting place since everyone in this village is Muslim. The mosque had Arabic writing, and the men who sat on the steps all looked very stern and dark. The people in this village definitely look different than the rest of the Vietnamese, but I can?t remember the name of their tribe. They even have their own language.
For dinner, we had crabs, huge crabs. It was delicious and fresh. The proprietor had to bike down to the market (very few stands were left) and buy our crabs. At 11pm, we headed down to the river front to join the town in their celebrations. We were a bit surprised at the number of young people out there. Usually we only see shop vendors, who are usually older. At this gathering, were thousands of young children, youths, and couples. Many of them were holding hands, which was the first we?ve seen in this country. We have also noticed that the people in this town dress much more in western style, than the traditional outfits. The ladies? ao dai is particularly beautiful and elegant on a female?s body, but it is quite warm with long sleeves and pants. We saw many ladies wearing them when we were in Hoi An.
The fireworks began just a few minutes after we arrive. We did not know what to expect in terms of celebrations, but it appeared that the whole town was out to watch this fantastic and colourful display that lasted for 20 minutes. We were a bit doubtful of our position; we were standing just 25 feet away from where the fireworks were being lit. Several young boys were gathered around the area, no more than 3 feet away from the danger zone. This was definitely the first time we?ve actually seen the fireworks in the air, and heard the sound of the explosion at the same time. Usually at home, we are so far away that we hear them a second or two later.
There were many oohs and aahs from the crowd, especially when there is an especially bright or loud one. Street vendors selling sticky buns and drinks were out, as were people selling balloons and trinkets. At one point, a firework misfired and hit one of the kids in front of us. Many people scampered to get out of the way, and we thought we might get a stampede. Nothing like that happened; people just returned to their watching position.
At midnight, we watched a martial arts organization perform lion dance, martial arts and dragon dance in the main square. It was fun to watch the concentration on the faces of the little boys. They obviously take their training quite seriously. Walking back to the hotel, we saw many people lighting paper money outside their homes. This is their way of sending wealth to their ancestors to begin the new year.
The next morning, we boarded our boat to go to our homestay in Cantho. The crew of the boat hung up hammocks for each of us, and we got to lay in them for the 6 hr boat ride. The Mekong River is very big, and in the delta, are several branches of the river. In some cases, it is more than 3km wide. We saw many stilt houses on the side of the river. We can?t imagine bathing, doing laundry and dropping our sewer all into the same water, but I suppose you get used to it if you?ve been brought up this way all your life.
Arriving in Cantho, we went to see the floating market. However, since it?s Tet, many of them have gone home to spend the day with their families. We did see a few remaining shops; they are floating boats with their goods. At the top of the boat, is a long branch, its end displaying the goods for sale. We saw cabbages, taro root, carrots, etc. It was interesting, and would certainly have been a neat sight if the hundreds of boats were out there on a normal day.
Our homestay in Cantho was very comfortable. There were many double beds in the house, all with mosquito nets. The 3 year boy of the house entertained us though he had a tendency to scream loudly all the time. He got along with Tom, so he went along on our walk as we toured the village. Many people were out in their deck, hanging out. We passed by a group of men drinking, gambling and doing karaoke. They were quite drunk and kept waving at us. Many little children wanted to say hello as well. We could see many people out wearing their new clothes as they prepared to go visit a family or friend for dinner.
On the way back, Winston went with Dave and our guide Huy, to a family home just a few doors from our homestay. I went to take a cold shower, and when I came back, Winston was laying in a hammock in the living room saying ?Hi honey, I?m drunk!?. He?s apparently had 5 shots of very strong rice wine at the neighbour?s home.
We had a wonderful dinner. We were joined by Sam and Andy, who are English and working in Saigon. They arrived by motorbike. We stayed up looking at pictures from Winston?s camera, and drank a lot of rice wine. The youngest son of the proprietor stayed up with us and we enjoyed his company. In the morning, we boarded a small boat into Cantho town. Then we hopped into 3 motorbike rickshaws to a hotel on the waterfront, where we enjoyed a buffet breakfast. There our bus driver, Mr. Ching, was waiting to take us back to Saigon. Mr. Ching had been our bus driver since we left Mui Ne.
Back in Saigon, we checked into our hotel, and went to the backpacker district to use the Internet. Our last group dinner was at a restaurant called 13, which turned out to be exactly opposite the Grand Hotel, where Jackie was staying. We had a delicious final night dinner, and then headed off to the Rex to meet up with Gunga and Ming. Though the shops in town were mostly closed, there were a ton of people out on the main street. Still filled with lights and flower pots, many people were out walking with their families. Vendors were selling dried cuttlefish and cotton candy. The whole atmosphere was very alive, mixed in with motorcycle fumes, of course. It was incredible to see how fast the government workers work; on our way to the backpacker area, the promenade that just a few days ago held thousands of flower pots was now completely empty. Once Tet hit, the flower growers took their wares and went home.
We marveled in the beautiful lanterns that were strung across the main square, with bright lights and lively fountain. At the rooftop of the Rex Hotel, we had a good view of the activity below. On the way back to our hotel, Winston took several photos. Early in the morning, we all met at our hotel lobby at 7:30 and headed to the travel agency to go on our Cu Chi Tunnel tour. Please read Gunga?s email about our trip to the Cu Chi Tunnel (dated yesterday, 24th of January).
In the evening, we met up with Jackie and Justin, and along with Sarah, went for drinks and dinner. We had good food at the Nam An Restaurant, serving upscale Vietnamese food. It is interesting to see the additional 10% service charge at most restaurants during this Tet holiday period. We were hoping Holly could join us as well, but did not manage to meet up with her.
It is now the 25th, and we have already checked out of our hotel. We actually need to leave now and head to the Rex Hotel, where Gunga is waiting for us. Then it?s a taxi ride to the airport, and checking in for our flight to Phnom Penh on Vietnam Airlines. If we can get on the Internet in Phnom Penh, we?ll say hello then. Bye for now!
Saigon, Vietnam
We had been told that Saigon aka Ho Chi Minh City (most people still refer to it by its old name) is a sprawling huge metropolis. Sure enough, as we drove into the city on our way down from Mui Ne, we passed through several ?towns? consisting of shop houses, restaurants, churches, temples and gazillion motor bikes. Apparently there are 22 districts, of which 12 belong to the city proper. The entire HCMC area houses 6.8 million people.
On January 19th, we arrived in the busiest city of the country. We checked into the Thien Tung Hotel, which lies across from the Ben Thanh Market (the huge central market). After leaving our bags in our rooms, we walked towards the backpacker district (just 10 minutes away) for lunch. On the way, we walked by a promenade that is entirely covered with flowers and plants. This temporary display of shops was set up just for Tet. Men and women were there, haggling over the price of their orchids and kumquat trees. Some vendors were creative, and arranged their kumquat trees in the shape of a dragon topiary. It was incredible to see how many plants were available for sale, just for this special event.
We ate at the Alley Boo, and then booked our tour to the Cu Chi Tunnels for the 24th. Before we left our hotel, we manage to get in touch with our friend Mike, aka Gunga from Vancouver, and arranged to meet up later in the evening. Outside the Alley Boo, 7 cyclos were waiting to take us on a tour of the city.
Our first stop was the War Remnants Museum (used to be called the American War Museum). It was very poignant to see all the photos on display, of the war and the aftermath. Even as late as November of 2003, people were still being killed or lost limbs due to the explosions of baby bombs and land mines in the countryside. Obviously much of the Museum pointed to the atrocity performed by the United States, very much a one-sided viewpoint. The most unexpected item on display was a large bottle, with 2 fetuses that were preserved by formaldehyde. These were fetuses whose parents were affected by Agent Orange; one had two heads off the same body, while the other was labeled ?monster?.
Back on our cyclos, which by the way, is a great way to see the city even though many people are trying to ban them from the streets, we next visited the Notre Dame Cathedral, the Grand Post Office, a beautiful colonial building built by the French, the City Hall and Rex Hotel (where Gunga is staying with his family), a 360 degree view of the city from the Panorama Restaurant, and the Saigon River.
We met up with Gunga and his family in the lobby at their hotel at 6pm, and his parents treated us to a delicious dinner at a local restaurant. There were so many people at this restaurant, a sign of good food. They ordered several ?gourmet? dishes since we were there; grasshoppers, kangaroo and deer meat, and elephant ear fish. The grasshoppers tasted much better than the scorpions we had in China. Softer and with delicious sauce, they have the texture of shrimp tails. Ming, Gunga?s sister refused to eat any.
After dinner, we walked along the streets of Saigon, marveling at the beautiful lights strung out in celebration of Tet. There were lights of all colours; white, red, yellow, blue and greet. Many trees were individually covered with lights, tree trunks were wrapped in silk fabric, with a bow, flowers decorated every corner of the boulevard, and hotels had huge displays of flowers, plants, lights and lanterns. It?s definitely the place to be, to see the grandeur of Tet. Apparently the Saigon or Vietnamese Government (we?re not sure which) has decided that from now on, the streets of the downtown area (also called District 1) will also be beautifully decorated for Tet. It is an attempt to make the city beautiful for ?tourists? in hopes of a growth in the tourism industry. I have heard that since September 11th, tourism has increased in this country.
There were many people out and about enjoying the cool breeze (it?s hot and muggy in the sun during the day) and beautiful lights and decorations. We have never seen so many motorbikes/scooters before. They whizzed by all over the place, though we have gotten accustomed to crossing the road now. We were much more comfortable with traffic here, though the number of vehicles on the road is much higher. We think that people drive slower here, or it could be that we?ve just gotten better at confronting the bikes.
The next morning, we left for Chau Doc, a town just 3km away from Cambodia in the Mekong Delta. It was a long drive, about 7 hours, but we were in a very comfortable bus, so that was fine. Along the way, we stopped by to visit a Cao Dai Temple. Cao Dai is a religion that worships many gods: Jesus, Confucius, Buddha, Hindu Gods, Tao and a couple others. The temples are shaped like cathedrals, with 2 towers, with a huge seeing-eye in the middle of the building. It?s a cross between Eastern and Western architecture with flowers and animals adorning the walls.
Arriving in Chau Doc, we drove through the small streets where people were busy hoisting their Vietnamese flags outside their homes and shops. Apparently it is a law that every house has to fly a flag on a national holiday, and Tet is considered the biggest holiday in the country. School children get 4 days before and after the new year as holidays, while businesses are closed for 3 days after new year.
It was incredible to see how busy everyone was in their preparations. Floors are scrubbed, including sidewalks. Altars were lit with fancy lights or red bulbs. Plum trees with yellow blossoms in ceramic pots laid in the middle or front of the family?s living room. Bunches of Marigolds were purchased by women to display at their home (the gold colour symbolizes wealth). Red paper lucky signs and lucky envelopes were sold by the thousands all over the market. Martial art associations practiced their lion and dragon dances, with drums and cymbals. We felt drawn into the celebrations, just by walking down the streets. CNY is as special to the Chinese people as Tet is to the Vietnamese; hence we were glad to be in this country so that we could partake in the festivities.
We went to visit Sam Mountain, the only ?hill? in the area of flat paddy fields. We could see the Cambodian border from the top, and lush green paddy fields ready for harvesting. We ended up drinking several cans of beer and soft drinks up at the peak, till it was dark, enjoying the conversations and the view. We went back to Chau Doc and enjoyed a lovely dinner. The ?younger? ones all went to the disco afterwards and had a good time. Winston and I walked around town. Gosh, we are getting old.
On the eve of lunar new year, 21st of January, we opted not to go on a motorbike tour with the rest of the group. Instead, we were drawn into the bustling market, where women were busy buying their produce and meat for the evening?s feast. The dinner on NY Eve is the most important meal of the event. People celebrate the end of the year, and pray for a better new year. At the market, we had to dodge motorbikes, bicycles and the local people who all hurried about. In one case, a woman stepped on my ankle to get by. Yuck, needless to say, the floor of the market is not exactly clean.
We soaked in all we saw at the market: fresh fish swimming in round bins; a woman cleaning the scales off a fish as it struggles; snakes crawling about in a cage; pork stands in one corner (my least favourite area) ? there are no chickens right now due to the Chicken Flu scare; hundreds of bananas in bunches still hanging on their stem; fruits of all colours and sizes; the sweet goodies for the new year; and the sound of drums for the lion dance.
In the afternoon, we went on a boat ride along the river. Visiting a fish farm, we learnt about catfish farming. It costs 400million dong to own on of these. We also saw a canal where smugglers from Cambodia run across, catch a boat to Chau Doc, and unload their goods. We actually saw a smuggler when we were going by, with his plastic backpack. Our last stop was a Muslim village, a very interesting place since everyone in this village is Muslim. The mosque had Arabic writing, and the men who sat on the steps all looked very stern and dark. The people in this village definitely look different than the rest of the Vietnamese, but I can?t remember the name of their tribe. They even have their own language.
For dinner, we had crabs, huge crabs. It was delicious and fresh. The proprietor had to bike down to the market (very few stands were left) and buy our crabs. At 11pm, we headed down to the river front to join the town in their celebrations. We were a bit surprised at the number of young people out there. Usually we only see shop vendors, who are usually older. At this gathering, were thousands of young children, youths, and couples. Many of them were holding hands, which was the first we?ve seen in this country. We have also noticed that the people in this town dress much more in western style, than the traditional outfits. The ladies? ao dai is particularly beautiful and elegant on a female?s body, but it is quite warm with long sleeves and pants. We saw many ladies wearing them when we were in Hoi An.
The fireworks began just a few minutes after we arrive. We did not know what to expect in terms of celebrations, but it appeared that the whole town was out to watch this fantastic and colourful display that lasted for 20 minutes. We were a bit doubtful of our position; we were standing just 25 feet away from where the fireworks were being lit. Several young boys were gathered around the area, no more than 3 feet away from the danger zone. This was definitely the first time we?ve actually seen the fireworks in the air, and heard the sound of the explosion at the same time. Usually at home, we are so far away that we hear them a second or two later.
There were many oohs and aahs from the crowd, especially when there is an especially bright or loud one. Street vendors selling sticky buns and drinks were out, as were people selling balloons and trinkets. At one point, a firework misfired and hit one of the kids in front of us. Many people scampered to get out of the way, and we thought we might get a stampede. Nothing like that happened; people just returned to their watching position.
At midnight, we watched a martial arts organization perform lion dance, martial arts and dragon dance in the main square. It was fun to watch the concentration on the faces of the little boys. They obviously take their training quite seriously. Walking back to the hotel, we saw many people lighting paper money outside their homes. This is their way of sending wealth to their ancestors to begin the new year.
The next morning, we boarded our boat to go to our homestay in Cantho. The crew of the boat hung up hammocks for each of us, and we got to lay in them for the 6 hr boat ride. The Mekong River is very big, and in the delta, are several branches of the river. In some cases, it is more than 3km wide. We saw many stilt houses on the side of the river. We can?t imagine bathing, doing laundry and dropping our sewer all into the same water, but I suppose you get used to it if you?ve been brought up this way all your life.
Arriving in Cantho, we went to see the floating market. However, since it?s Tet, many of them have gone home to spend the day with their families. We did see a few remaining shops; they are floating boats with their goods. At the top of the boat, is a long branch, its end displaying the goods for sale. We saw cabbages, taro root, carrots, etc. It was interesting, and would certainly have been a neat sight if the hundreds of boats were out there on a normal day.
Our homestay in Cantho was very comfortable. There were many double beds in the house, all with mosquito nets. The 3 year boy of the house entertained us though he had a tendency to scream loudly all the time. He got along with Tom, so he went along on our walk as we toured the village. Many people were out in their deck, hanging out. We passed by a group of men drinking, gambling and doing karaoke. They were quite drunk and kept waving at us. Many little children wanted to say hello as well. We could see many people out wearing their new clothes as they prepared to go visit a family or friend for dinner.
On the way back, Winston went with Dave and our guide Huy, to a family home just a few doors from our homestay. I went to take a cold shower, and when I came back, Winston was laying in a hammock in the living room saying ?Hi honey, I?m drunk!?. He?s apparently had 5 shots of very strong rice wine at the neighbour?s home.
We had a wonderful dinner. We were joined by Sam and Andy, who are English and working in Saigon. They arrived by motorbike. We stayed up looking at pictures from Winston?s camera, and drank a lot of rice wine. The youngest son of the proprietor stayed up with us and we enjoyed his company. In the morning, we boarded a small boat into Cantho town. Then we hopped into 3 motorbike rickshaws to a hotel on the waterfront, where we enjoyed a buffet breakfast. There our bus driver, Mr. Ching, was waiting to take us back to Saigon. Mr. Ching had been our bus driver since we left Mui Ne.
Back in Saigon, we checked into our hotel, and went to the backpacker district to use the Internet. Our last group dinner was at a restaurant called 13, which turned out to be exactly opposite the Grand Hotel, where Jackie was staying. We had a delicious final night dinner, and then headed off to the Rex to meet up with Gunga and Ming. Though the shops in town were mostly closed, there were a ton of people out on the main street. Still filled with lights and flower pots, many people were out walking with their families. Vendors were selling dried cuttlefish and cotton candy. The whole atmosphere was very alive, mixed in with motorcycle fumes, of course. It was incredible to see how fast the government workers work; on our way to the backpacker area, the promenade that just a few days ago held thousands of flower pots was now completely empty. Once Tet hit, the flower growers took their wares and went home.
We marveled in the beautiful lanterns that were strung across the main square, with bright lights and lively fountain. At the rooftop of the Rex Hotel, we had a good view of the activity below. On the way back to our hotel, Winston took several photos. Early in the morning, we all met at our hotel lobby at 7:30 and headed to the travel agency to go on our Cu Chi Tunnel tour. Please read Gunga?s email about our trip to the Cu Chi Tunnel (dated yesterday, 24th of January).
In the evening, we met up with Jackie and Justin, and along with Sarah, went for drinks and dinner. We had good food at the Nam An Restaurant, serving upscale Vietnamese food. It is interesting to see the additional 10% service charge at most restaurants during this Tet holiday period. We were hoping Holly could join us as well, but did not manage to meet up with her.
It is now the 25th, and we have already checked out of our hotel. We actually need to leave now and head to the Rex Hotel, where Gunga is waiting for us. Then it?s a taxi ride to the airport, and checking in for our flight to Phnom Penh on Vietnam Airlines. If we can get on the Internet in Phnom Penh, we?ll say hello then. Bye for now!
Pacific Coast: Hoi An and Mui Ne
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
I last left off with our visit to Hue, the imperial city in Central Vietnam. Southern Vietnam is much warmer and greener; paddy fields irrigated by rivers and ocean, the crops are ready for harvest in comparison to the dried fields up north. Temperatures were above 20, and past 30 the further south we went. The accent from north to south changes, and some words are completely different, in particular for food. Apparently most people understand a northerner’s accent (as TV broadcasts are from Hanoi) but the north can’t understand a southerner. It is a huge country after all, with over 80million people. In Hue alone, they have their own slang, and pronunciation different from the rest of the country. All these differences, make this a very exciting country to visit.
A mini bus took us to Hoi An on Wednesday, January 14th, over the Hai Van Pass. On the way up the pass, we could see stunning views of the Pacific Ocean on our left (we were traveling southbound). Winston pointed out that this was the first time we can say that we live ‘on the other side’ of the ocean.
We weren't going to get off at the top of the pass since it was misty, but Natasha had to use the WC so we decided to stop for a bit. As soon as the bus pulled up, many female vendors showed up at our side, one to each passenger. They convinced us to open our windows and proceeded to talk to us in a very friendly manner. Of course we (at least most of us) knew that this was just a scam to get us to chat more with them and eventually buy something from them.
The lady who got me was very unlucky as I refused to get down or look at any of her wares. She gave me quite a sour look after that (gone was the friendly face). The others had meanwhile been coerced into getting coffee, and looking at plastic bracelets, maps, menthos and tiger balm. Sarah, Natasha and Daniel ended up getting a few things, for a lot of money, just to be able to get back to the bus. I won't tell you how much they paid for their bracelets (I think they've already tossed them out by now). Let's just say they could have gotten them for 95% of the price. It was quite an interesting experience, though we were convinced that we didn't want to stop anymore where we were going to be accosted by ruthless vendors like that.
The public bus drivers here are crazy. They drive very fast, and keep their fingers on their honk to get everyone else out of the way. Not only do they not slow down for anyone, they also drive at the same speed along the curves of this windy pass. It was quite scary watching them as they seem to lean over so much that we were afraid the entire bus would fall on its side. What was also interesting is the pile of motorbikes and bicycles on the roofs of these buses. Even when we were traveling by boat, were there such bikes on those roofs as well.
On the way to Danang, we stopped by Marble Mountain. At the base of the mountain, were tens of marble shops, all selling statues of Ho Chi Minh, lions, pretty ladies, etc. We skipped all the shops, and proceeded to go up the mountain. Since most of us were in flip flops and sandals, and we’ve been told that the steps up to the peak were quite high, we chose to just visit the cave in the middle of the mountain. Sure enough, once we started walking up, we had to raise our legs quite high on each step. For someone with short legs like myself, it was a challenge. Some of the stairs were close to a foot apart.
There was a beautiful statue of a happy Buddha in front of a temple. Dave was eager to show us the cave as the sun was out. This cave has holes where the sunlight penetrates below to give light to the various structures found inside. There was a nice ray when we got inside, just short of hitting the huge statue of Buddha that was in the back centre of the chamber.
Leaving Marble Mountain, we arrived in Hoi An in time for lunch. We stayed at the Greenfields Hotel, which is 2km away from town center, and the beach. At this hotel, bicycles were provided so we rode them all over the place. It’s such a convenient way to travel, especially in a very flat town! Too bad Seattle hilly, otherwise I would use my bike more often (ok, I will have to admit that my bike hasn’t been touched since I’ve moved there 4 years ago – yikes).
Hoi An is a nice town; it is catered towards tourists, which is usually a bad thing. However, it’s nice to be able to shop for souvenirs in a non-hassle environment. There is so much competition that the vendors are quite polite, and pretty much leave us alone. Prices are also reasonable so just a bit of bargaining was needed. The specialty of Hoi An is its abundance of tailor shops. You arrive in town with no intentions of getting anything made, and leave with several articles of clothing. Prices are very decent though, so it’s hard to turn down a custom fit silk cashmere suit! If you ever visit Hoi An, Mr. Xe is the person to see about getting clothes made (he’s very gay, extremely funny and nice, and turns out excellent clothes). You can find his shop by asking for Mr. Xe (that’s the name of his shop).
The city has a huge bustling local market, where it was fun to join the crowd. Everything is for sale, from meat to kitchen cleavers to clothing and shoes. The aisle way is very crowded, and the second time I visited, I went deep into the market where I found myself pushed and shoved from all sides. It seems strange to me where an aisle that fits at most 2 people can also take passing by motorbikes and carts. People have no problems with pushing me from behind, whether it’s a hand on my shoulders or buttocks. One of the lovely thing about Vietnam is the abundance of fresh fruits. I love seeing the wonderful array of colours: fuchsia dragon fruits, orange mandarins, green custard apples, brown longans, yellow nashi (pears), red apples, green/orange papayas and yellow/orange/green pineapples and green/yellow mangoes. A haven for fruit lovers!!
Hoi An has a great selection of restaurants. The local specialties include white rose (Chinese ravioli) and fried wontons. The architecture of the buildings in this town is very similar to the traditional Chinese buildings. High pointed ceilings, all with dark beams, red lanterns hanging outside underneath awnings and Chinese writing on walls reminded me of old kungfu movies.
For lunch on our second day in Hoi An, we biked to the beach and enjoyed wonderful seafood (I had a grilled crab and ended up getting a huge scratch of my thumb from the huge pincher on its claw). The beach was extremely quiet and beautiful; rows of lounge chairs and umbrellas on white sandy beach facing a blue wavy ocean. Of course there was the requisite vendors selling bracelets and snacks, and we were mostly successful at turning them away.
In the evening, a few of us participated in a cooking demonstration by Mr. Hai. We got recipes and tips for making spring rolls, fish in banana leaves and squid salad. It was a fun time and the food was excellent. Winston and I proclaimed the spring rolls the best we’ve ever had. Mr. Hai taught us how to pierce holes in the spring roll so all the oil drains out.
After lunch Friday, we drove back to Danang and boarded an overnight train to Phan Thiet. We ended up on the same train as the one we took from Hanoi (the S3) in the same carriage. Nothing out of the ordinary happened on the ride; we were more prepared this time and brought food along with us.
We got off in Phan Thiet, a fishing town. I noticed that we were the only passengers who got off at this station. We can see that this was a lesser used station as the road out of the station was not only just a dirt road, it was also full of bumps, so we drove at less than 10km/h for the first little while.
Driving north towards Mui Ne, we watched the local people busy at the markets and preparing for Tet. Marigolds were purchased in bunches, as were pots of yellow plum blossoms and kumquat trees. This whole area consist of fishing and fish sauce making villages, so we passed many parked boats along the way. The Nam Chau Resort was away from the main drag, so it was quite peaceful for two days.
Our rooms were bungalows, with mosquito nets, bamboo lounge chairs, balconies and wood furniture. Rustic, yet comfortable. We arrived early in the morning, and had breakfast at the resort. After that, it was relax time as we read outside underneath a cabana, on a lounge chair, facing the ocean. It was nice to just enjoy the sea breeze without actually being on the beach, or in a bathing suit.
We met for lunch, and walked about 2km or more along the beach to a restaurant in search of giant prawns. This restaurant was on the beach, with several hammocks hung around posts. We sat on plastic chairs, and attempted to order drinks. The people here spoke no English, and it took a while, but we eventually all had something to drink. Dave helped by writing down our orders (in Vietnamese) on their form. We did not realize that they had to go buy all the seafood from the market so we waited about 30minutes as they rode off in two motorbikes into town to get us fresh seafood.
Sure enough, when our prawns were served, they were huge. The biggest one on our plate was almost the size of Winston’s face (minus his forehead). We have a picture of it though I’m not sure if it’s going to make it to the website or not. Walking back to our resort, we noticed how dirty the beach actually was. It was unfortunate the amount of plastic and garbage up on the sand. In many cases, we saw light bulbs and plastic bottles that were already covered with barnacles, indicating that they had been there for a while. This beach was unique for us in that there were beautiful scallop shells, in a variety of colours: purple, orange, yellow, stripes, red, etc. There were also weird black blotches on the sand and we all got stained along the way (I had to scrub my feet with a scrubber to get most of it off).
It was very windy in the afternoon, so we just read on the lounge chairs outside of our hut. The next day, we didn’t do too much other than a lot of relaxing. I went in for a swim with Sarah. The water was very comfortable though the waves were quite strong. It was fun to swim with the surfs. We went into town and ate dinner at Good Morning Vietnam, an Italian restaurant. Food was very good here, and I really enjoyed my pizza. The crust was very nicely done.
Monday morning, we woke up early and took pictures of the sunrise. There was a group of fishermen out, hauling in their net. The resort staff cleaned up the beach on a daily basis, so it was always nice just stepping out there and not having to worry about the rubbish we’ve seen. After a quick breakfast, we said goodbye to our nice retreat, the lovely beach and turquoise ocean. We got on a mini bus and drove for 4 hours into the big city of Saigon, currently known as Ho Chi Minh City.
Just a few words about Tet (lunar new year). Things for sale: vinyl inflatable red lanterns, watermelons with red enveloped on the front, plants and blossoms of all colours, ducks and chickens, watermelon seeds, candied ginger, coconut and mandarin oranges, red boxes filled with cookies, peanut candies, red envelopes, and so on. It was neat to see the sidewalks filled with stalls selling all of the above, as well as the bustling market busier than usual as women prepare the last feast of the year. It was also incredible to see a boulevard or margin converted into a flower garden, with orchids, bougainvilleas, mums, chrysanthemums, and other plants. Many of them were bonsai-like, in beautiful ceramic planters.
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
I last left off with our visit to Hue, the imperial city in Central Vietnam. Southern Vietnam is much warmer and greener; paddy fields irrigated by rivers and ocean, the crops are ready for harvest in comparison to the dried fields up north. Temperatures were above 20, and past 30 the further south we went. The accent from north to south changes, and some words are completely different, in particular for food. Apparently most people understand a northerner’s accent (as TV broadcasts are from Hanoi) but the north can’t understand a southerner. It is a huge country after all, with over 80million people. In Hue alone, they have their own slang, and pronunciation different from the rest of the country. All these differences, make this a very exciting country to visit.
A mini bus took us to Hoi An on Wednesday, January 14th, over the Hai Van Pass. On the way up the pass, we could see stunning views of the Pacific Ocean on our left (we were traveling southbound). Winston pointed out that this was the first time we can say that we live ‘on the other side’ of the ocean.
We weren't going to get off at the top of the pass since it was misty, but Natasha had to use the WC so we decided to stop for a bit. As soon as the bus pulled up, many female vendors showed up at our side, one to each passenger. They convinced us to open our windows and proceeded to talk to us in a very friendly manner. Of course we (at least most of us) knew that this was just a scam to get us to chat more with them and eventually buy something from them.
The lady who got me was very unlucky as I refused to get down or look at any of her wares. She gave me quite a sour look after that (gone was the friendly face). The others had meanwhile been coerced into getting coffee, and looking at plastic bracelets, maps, menthos and tiger balm. Sarah, Natasha and Daniel ended up getting a few things, for a lot of money, just to be able to get back to the bus. I won't tell you how much they paid for their bracelets (I think they've already tossed them out by now). Let's just say they could have gotten them for 95% of the price. It was quite an interesting experience, though we were convinced that we didn't want to stop anymore where we were going to be accosted by ruthless vendors like that.
The public bus drivers here are crazy. They drive very fast, and keep their fingers on their honk to get everyone else out of the way. Not only do they not slow down for anyone, they also drive at the same speed along the curves of this windy pass. It was quite scary watching them as they seem to lean over so much that we were afraid the entire bus would fall on its side. What was also interesting is the pile of motorbikes and bicycles on the roofs of these buses. Even when we were traveling by boat, were there such bikes on those roofs as well.
On the way to Danang, we stopped by Marble Mountain. At the base of the mountain, were tens of marble shops, all selling statues of Ho Chi Minh, lions, pretty ladies, etc. We skipped all the shops, and proceeded to go up the mountain. Since most of us were in flip flops and sandals, and we’ve been told that the steps up to the peak were quite high, we chose to just visit the cave in the middle of the mountain. Sure enough, once we started walking up, we had to raise our legs quite high on each step. For someone with short legs like myself, it was a challenge. Some of the stairs were close to a foot apart.
There was a beautiful statue of a happy Buddha in front of a temple. Dave was eager to show us the cave as the sun was out. This cave has holes where the sunlight penetrates below to give light to the various structures found inside. There was a nice ray when we got inside, just short of hitting the huge statue of Buddha that was in the back centre of the chamber.
Leaving Marble Mountain, we arrived in Hoi An in time for lunch. We stayed at the Greenfields Hotel, which is 2km away from town center, and the beach. At this hotel, bicycles were provided so we rode them all over the place. It’s such a convenient way to travel, especially in a very flat town! Too bad Seattle hilly, otherwise I would use my bike more often (ok, I will have to admit that my bike hasn’t been touched since I’ve moved there 4 years ago – yikes).
Hoi An is a nice town; it is catered towards tourists, which is usually a bad thing. However, it’s nice to be able to shop for souvenirs in a non-hassle environment. There is so much competition that the vendors are quite polite, and pretty much leave us alone. Prices are also reasonable so just a bit of bargaining was needed. The specialty of Hoi An is its abundance of tailor shops. You arrive in town with no intentions of getting anything made, and leave with several articles of clothing. Prices are very decent though, so it’s hard to turn down a custom fit silk cashmere suit! If you ever visit Hoi An, Mr. Xe is the person to see about getting clothes made (he’s very gay, extremely funny and nice, and turns out excellent clothes). You can find his shop by asking for Mr. Xe (that’s the name of his shop).
The city has a huge bustling local market, where it was fun to join the crowd. Everything is for sale, from meat to kitchen cleavers to clothing and shoes. The aisle way is very crowded, and the second time I visited, I went deep into the market where I found myself pushed and shoved from all sides. It seems strange to me where an aisle that fits at most 2 people can also take passing by motorbikes and carts. People have no problems with pushing me from behind, whether it’s a hand on my shoulders or buttocks. One of the lovely thing about Vietnam is the abundance of fresh fruits. I love seeing the wonderful array of colours: fuchsia dragon fruits, orange mandarins, green custard apples, brown longans, yellow nashi (pears), red apples, green/orange papayas and yellow/orange/green pineapples and green/yellow mangoes. A haven for fruit lovers!!
Hoi An has a great selection of restaurants. The local specialties include white rose (Chinese ravioli) and fried wontons. The architecture of the buildings in this town is very similar to the traditional Chinese buildings. High pointed ceilings, all with dark beams, red lanterns hanging outside underneath awnings and Chinese writing on walls reminded me of old kungfu movies.
For lunch on our second day in Hoi An, we biked to the beach and enjoyed wonderful seafood (I had a grilled crab and ended up getting a huge scratch of my thumb from the huge pincher on its claw). The beach was extremely quiet and beautiful; rows of lounge chairs and umbrellas on white sandy beach facing a blue wavy ocean. Of course there was the requisite vendors selling bracelets and snacks, and we were mostly successful at turning them away.
In the evening, a few of us participated in a cooking demonstration by Mr. Hai. We got recipes and tips for making spring rolls, fish in banana leaves and squid salad. It was a fun time and the food was excellent. Winston and I proclaimed the spring rolls the best we’ve ever had. Mr. Hai taught us how to pierce holes in the spring roll so all the oil drains out.
After lunch Friday, we drove back to Danang and boarded an overnight train to Phan Thiet. We ended up on the same train as the one we took from Hanoi (the S3) in the same carriage. Nothing out of the ordinary happened on the ride; we were more prepared this time and brought food along with us.
We got off in Phan Thiet, a fishing town. I noticed that we were the only passengers who got off at this station. We can see that this was a lesser used station as the road out of the station was not only just a dirt road, it was also full of bumps, so we drove at less than 10km/h for the first little while.
Driving north towards Mui Ne, we watched the local people busy at the markets and preparing for Tet. Marigolds were purchased in bunches, as were pots of yellow plum blossoms and kumquat trees. This whole area consist of fishing and fish sauce making villages, so we passed many parked boats along the way. The Nam Chau Resort was away from the main drag, so it was quite peaceful for two days.
Our rooms were bungalows, with mosquito nets, bamboo lounge chairs, balconies and wood furniture. Rustic, yet comfortable. We arrived early in the morning, and had breakfast at the resort. After that, it was relax time as we read outside underneath a cabana, on a lounge chair, facing the ocean. It was nice to just enjoy the sea breeze without actually being on the beach, or in a bathing suit.
We met for lunch, and walked about 2km or more along the beach to a restaurant in search of giant prawns. This restaurant was on the beach, with several hammocks hung around posts. We sat on plastic chairs, and attempted to order drinks. The people here spoke no English, and it took a while, but we eventually all had something to drink. Dave helped by writing down our orders (in Vietnamese) on their form. We did not realize that they had to go buy all the seafood from the market so we waited about 30minutes as they rode off in two motorbikes into town to get us fresh seafood.
Sure enough, when our prawns were served, they were huge. The biggest one on our plate was almost the size of Winston’s face (minus his forehead). We have a picture of it though I’m not sure if it’s going to make it to the website or not. Walking back to our resort, we noticed how dirty the beach actually was. It was unfortunate the amount of plastic and garbage up on the sand. In many cases, we saw light bulbs and plastic bottles that were already covered with barnacles, indicating that they had been there for a while. This beach was unique for us in that there were beautiful scallop shells, in a variety of colours: purple, orange, yellow, stripes, red, etc. There were also weird black blotches on the sand and we all got stained along the way (I had to scrub my feet with a scrubber to get most of it off).
It was very windy in the afternoon, so we just read on the lounge chairs outside of our hut. The next day, we didn’t do too much other than a lot of relaxing. I went in for a swim with Sarah. The water was very comfortable though the waves were quite strong. It was fun to swim with the surfs. We went into town and ate dinner at Good Morning Vietnam, an Italian restaurant. Food was very good here, and I really enjoyed my pizza. The crust was very nicely done.
Monday morning, we woke up early and took pictures of the sunrise. There was a group of fishermen out, hauling in their net. The resort staff cleaned up the beach on a daily basis, so it was always nice just stepping out there and not having to worry about the rubbish we’ve seen. After a quick breakfast, we said goodbye to our nice retreat, the lovely beach and turquoise ocean. We got on a mini bus and drove for 4 hours into the big city of Saigon, currently known as Ho Chi Minh City.
Just a few words about Tet (lunar new year). Things for sale: vinyl inflatable red lanterns, watermelons with red enveloped on the front, plants and blossoms of all colours, ducks and chickens, watermelon seeds, candied ginger, coconut and mandarin oranges, red boxes filled with cookies, peanut candies, red envelopes, and so on. It was neat to see the sidewalks filled with stalls selling all of the above, as well as the bustling market busier than usual as women prepare the last feast of the year. It was also incredible to see a boulevard or margin converted into a flower garden, with orchids, bougainvilleas, mums, chrysanthemums, and other plants. Many of them were bonsai-like, in beautiful ceramic planters.
Cu Chi, Cu Chi Coo?
Saigon, Vietnam
Hey folks,
I'm Mike, aka Gunga, and I'll be travelling with Jen and Winston for the next three weeks from Saigon through Cambodia to Thailand and down to Malaysia. They've given me a Guest account on their website, so I'm their first official Guest Blog Writer!
Today was an adventure. We took off to the Cu Chi tunnels (Ben Dinh for those reading the Lonely PLanet). A very nice adventure. These were a huge tunnel network that was used by the North Vietnamese Army in during the war (actually created by the South and used previously against the Americans. He). The network stretched to about 200 km and was 3 levels at points.
The ride there was a pretty nice ride on a speed boat down the Saigon River. One thing I discover is that you CAN'T Eat Yogourt on a speedboat (SORRY Winston, there was a cross breeze, honest!). The landscapes were mostly palm trees and such on the sides, but apparantly there are a lot more farms behind the palm trees.
We started with a pretty amusing propaganda film (circa 1967). The verbatim translation was pretty hokey and the anti-american slant was oozing from the scratchy footage (usually the anti-americanism is extremely thinly veiled). Pretty interesting how they were celebrating the "American Killing Heroes".
We wandered through the exhibits, and I really felt like a tourist. "Look, here you can take a picture on the tank. Look, you can take a picture with the fake vietnamese soldiers (in "uniform" too)." The barbaric traps were ingenious and extremely deadly. An interesting trap was the "souvenir trap". It's a metal cage with angled barbed spikes. Once you punch through the spikes with your leg, your foot is impaled on the spike at the bottom. You then have to get yourself to a hospital with the trap on your leg (can't remove it in the field due to the spikes, ouch!).
The rest of the exhibits were decent, but the highlights were the actual (and renovated) tunnels. Most of the real tunnels have collapsed due to disuse and lack of maintenance. Our guide showed us a tunnel entrance and demonstrated the entry and exit (think of hole about the size of a sheet of paper. Now try and get through it, while a bunch of people are shooting at you.).
The actual tunnels were about 3 feet high and 2 feet wide. We wandered through "renovated" sections which were bigger. Very hot, tight, dark and not a good thing for claustrophobic people like me).
A funny side note, the monitor button just stopped working on the cafe, so Ming is holding the button down as I type. Thanks Ming!
I got pretty jammed up in some of the tunnels (they ran about 100 meters underground), banged my camera, scraped my pack and dropped my sunglasses all in 30 seconds of darkness. Nasty. "Take off your pack!" shouts Ming (who is like 8 inches shorter than me). You ever try to take off a backpack in a tunnel?!
Overall it was fun and interesting. I'd say one of the most interesting parts was listening to our guide 's stories. He fought in the war and was a translator for the 101'st airbourne Division. He had many stories and insights. He didn't enter the tunnels with us since he spent like 2 years, mostly underground. The tunnels bring back too many bad memories. Overall, a very enlightening experience (we were lucky we didn't get the talk show host guide).
War is just a horrific concept that no one seems to remember after a few years. THose who have not lived it, are all for it. I'll stay off the soapbox for now tho, and save the retoric for a better time.
Tonight will be my last night in town, I'll be chillin' with the folks before I head of to Cambodia tomorrow!
Here are some last minute observations:
- Where ever you go, there is a cute dog to photograph, too bad some have FREAKIN FLEAS (ARGH!)
- How come japanese cars have wimp ass horns in Canada (meep meep) but in Vietnam they have REAL HORNS
(HOOOOOOOONK!).
I'm sure I had lots more, but am at a bit of a loss right now. Sorry if my e-mails are too huge ass. They are fun to write, but let me know and I can edit my thoughts before I spill all over the keyboard.
I have no good way to get digital photos up right now. May be able to e-mail a couple at a later, or you may have to wait for the post trip party (and slide show he he he).
See you for now (not sure what internet access will be like in the rest of the trip).
Mike/Gunga
That miscellaneous Asian guy wandering around.
Saigon, Vietnam
Hey folks,
I'm Mike, aka Gunga, and I'll be travelling with Jen and Winston for the next three weeks from Saigon through Cambodia to Thailand and down to Malaysia. They've given me a Guest account on their website, so I'm their first official Guest Blog Writer!
Today was an adventure. We took off to the Cu Chi tunnels (Ben Dinh for those reading the Lonely PLanet). A very nice adventure. These were a huge tunnel network that was used by the North Vietnamese Army in during the war (actually created by the South and used previously against the Americans. He). The network stretched to about 200 km and was 3 levels at points.
The ride there was a pretty nice ride on a speed boat down the Saigon River. One thing I discover is that you CAN'T Eat Yogourt on a speedboat (SORRY Winston, there was a cross breeze, honest!). The landscapes were mostly palm trees and such on the sides, but apparantly there are a lot more farms behind the palm trees.
We started with a pretty amusing propaganda film (circa 1967). The verbatim translation was pretty hokey and the anti-american slant was oozing from the scratchy footage (usually the anti-americanism is extremely thinly veiled). Pretty interesting how they were celebrating the "American Killing Heroes".
We wandered through the exhibits, and I really felt like a tourist. "Look, here you can take a picture on the tank. Look, you can take a picture with the fake vietnamese soldiers (in "uniform" too)." The barbaric traps were ingenious and extremely deadly. An interesting trap was the "souvenir trap". It's a metal cage with angled barbed spikes. Once you punch through the spikes with your leg, your foot is impaled on the spike at the bottom. You then have to get yourself to a hospital with the trap on your leg (can't remove it in the field due to the spikes, ouch!).
The rest of the exhibits were decent, but the highlights were the actual (and renovated) tunnels. Most of the real tunnels have collapsed due to disuse and lack of maintenance. Our guide showed us a tunnel entrance and demonstrated the entry and exit (think of hole about the size of a sheet of paper. Now try and get through it, while a bunch of people are shooting at you.).
The actual tunnels were about 3 feet high and 2 feet wide. We wandered through "renovated" sections which were bigger. Very hot, tight, dark and not a good thing for claustrophobic people like me).
A funny side note, the monitor button just stopped working on the cafe, so Ming is holding the button down as I type. Thanks Ming!
I got pretty jammed up in some of the tunnels (they ran about 100 meters underground), banged my camera, scraped my pack and dropped my sunglasses all in 30 seconds of darkness. Nasty. "Take off your pack!" shouts Ming (who is like 8 inches shorter than me). You ever try to take off a backpack in a tunnel?!
Overall it was fun and interesting. I'd say one of the most interesting parts was listening to our guide 's stories. He fought in the war and was a translator for the 101'st airbourne Division. He had many stories and insights. He didn't enter the tunnels with us since he spent like 2 years, mostly underground. The tunnels bring back too many bad memories. Overall, a very enlightening experience (we were lucky we didn't get the talk show host guide).
War is just a horrific concept that no one seems to remember after a few years. THose who have not lived it, are all for it. I'll stay off the soapbox for now tho, and save the retoric for a better time.
Tonight will be my last night in town, I'll be chillin' with the folks before I head of to Cambodia tomorrow!
Here are some last minute observations:
- Where ever you go, there is a cute dog to photograph, too bad some have FREAKIN FLEAS (ARGH!)
- How come japanese cars have wimp ass horns in Canada (meep meep) but in Vietnam they have REAL HORNS
(HOOOOOOOONK!).
I'm sure I had lots more, but am at a bit of a loss right now. Sorry if my e-mails are too huge ass. They are fun to write, but let me know and I can edit my thoughts before I spill all over the keyboard.
I have no good way to get digital photos up right now. May be able to e-mail a couple at a later, or you may have to wait for the post trip party (and slide show he he he).
See you for now (not sure what internet access will be like in the rest of the trip).
Mike/Gunga
That miscellaneous Asian guy wandering around.
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Vehicles in Vietnam
Chau Doc, Vietnam
Every country we’ve visited seems to impress us in terms of their vehicular traffic in one way or another, whether it’s in the number of cars on the road or the absence of vehicular traffic altogether. Vietnam is no exception, where we have been most impressed by the roads that are completely teeming with motorbikes. Scooters, mopeds, motorcycles, however you name it, if it has two wheels and is motorized, in can be found in Vietnam, from the cities to the countryside, from the North to the South.
The road infrastructure shows evident signs of the popularity of motorbikes, as there are ramps built into the curbs in front of shopfronts, special motorbike pathways across bridges, and hundreds of “rua xe,” or motorbike washing, signs all along the roadside.
When it comes to figuring out the maximum capacity of these 150cc motorbikes, every time we think we’ve seen it all, we see something else that astounds us. First we couldn’t believe there were three people squeezing onto one bike, then we commonly started seeing families of four all on one bike, and then we saw even five and six people on one bike. Mothers with babies facing backwards fast asleep, oblivious to the din of traffic, toddlers dangling off the ends of the seats waving madly at us as they zoomed by—it seemed like our need for the “family sedan” back at home for a family of four became rather redundant.
Then comes the cargo; how many boxes can fit on the back of a motorbike? How much firewood? How many cages filled with squawking chickens? How many massive grunting pigs rolled up in bamboo? We saw single riders carrying 14 foot plumbing tubes balance precariously on their shoulders, other motorcyclists holding big bands of rebar with their metal ends bouncing wildly up and down as the riders tried to avoid potholes with just one hand on the controls. We’d even see a few motorcycles go by with a second fellow clutching a large pane of glass stretching ten feet into the sky, balanced precariously on the bike seat perched against the driver’s back.
I think Cairo still wins the “Worst Traffic” award among the cities that we’ve visited so far, Hanoi and Saigon are definitely in the top ten, not in terms of the slowest of the traffic, but in terms of the density of vehicles that jam up the city streets. In Hanoi, the first large Vietnamese city we encountered, just crossing the street was an eye-opening experience on the first day. There never seemed to be a lull in the constant stream of motorcycles that were coming down the road; there was simply no end. In order to cross the street, you simply have to step into the road and confidently and calmly step across without making any sudden movements. It was amazing to see how the motorcycle traffic would part and split around you like the flow of a river, nobody stopping or even slowing down much, just making their way around and behind you as you walked across the street. If you panicked and tried to run, you’d surely be roadkill. After the first day, we had just as amazingly become used to the whole phenomenon, not ever really being fazed by some close calls as we could feel the wind of passing motorbikes who were cutting things just a wee bit close.
Motorbike traffic in Saigon was much the same as what we experienced in Hanoi, except on a somewhat larger scale, with more bikes involved, and larger roads to cross. However, there did seem to be a bit more order to the chaos, as there were more traffic lights in the city, and you would sometimes be able to experience a lull in the traffic every now and then. When we contemplated about the difference in traffic between Saigon and Hanoi, we couldn’t tell which one was better or worse, or if our first experience in Hanoi made a stronger impression whereas we were used to it by the time we reached Saigon.
However, all bets were off in the evening that we first entered Saigon just two nights before Tet, the Vietnamese New Year festival, when the whole country erupts into celebration for five days. Some streets around the main square opposite City Hall and the Opera House were shut down to vehicular traffic and quickly filled with walking families out to see the fabulous night lights and colours of the festival. However, it seemed that every other family was out on their motorbike driving on the open streets creating a low but rumbling roar that filled all your senses. The din of little engines combined in cacophony of honking and beeping that filled your chest with reverberating noise and your ears with a deafening raucous growl. You had to shout so the person walking beside you could hear you. People rode around in one large sinewy pack of bikes that had to beginning and no end, just a constant blur of motion and noise and hot fumes. It was fascinating to watch and hear, and we simply stood there and watched, transfixed by the sheer volume of motorbikes and people in one area. Where they were all going, we don’t know, but we won’t forget the pulsating motorbike excitement of Tet in Saigon any time soon.
Traveling up and down the roads of Saigon reinforces the fact that Vietnam is a country on the verge of a boom of expansion and development some time in the near future. Not only are roads being constantly repaired and constructed everywhere we’ve been (although there are many roads that are in dire need of improvement as well), but there are hardly any patches of road that don’t have villages, huts, and people nearby or right alongside them. One town seems to blend into another, areas of farmland will have vegetable stalls along the road; it is difficult to think of areas we’ve driven past where we didn’t seem people selling or making something for more than a few hundred meters. Even when we got off the main roads and headed into the villages we saw all kinds of activity by the side of the dirt tracks we were on; not until we headed into a national park or the deep countryside of the North did we go a few minutes without encountering a shop or stall.
Safety in vehicles is obviously not a major concern here, as evidenced by the incredible capacity of motorbikes. Seat belts seem to be an afterthought, as most of the taxis and busses we’ve been in have not even had any. Although, there was the odd occasion where our bus driver would click into his own seat belt, which was really concerning, considering how the rest of us didn’t have any. What is completely odd though, is how we religiously wear our seatbelts at home, in either the driver or passenger seats, but when we step into these other countries, we don’t really give much thought about it at all. It doesn’t really make much sense, but I suppose when in Rome, do as the Romans do, or something to that effect anyway.
As in most developing countries we’ve visited so far, road rules seem to go by the basic premise that the bigger your vehicle is, the more right of way you have. The drivers of the public busses must feel that the more people in their bus they have, the more mass they must have, thus the more power they must have with which to ram their way through slower traffic. Horns are used with wild abandon, although not with the constant frequency of horns in India. Passing slower vehicles happens every 30 seconds or so, and near misses with oncoming passing vehicles are quite common. In fact, the government has seen fit to lay down strips of speed bumps in certain areas that they felt required slower traffic; rather than slow vehicles down, all these speed bumps serve to do is make traffic move into oncoming traffic in order to avoid them altogether; we’ve lost count of the number of times we grabbed our seats as our bus driver would swerve into the opposite lane to avoid having to go over speed bumps, almost clipping the oncoming traffic in the process.
I wonder how our driving will be when we get home, and whether we will take a day or a month to get used to the rules and regulations of the road. I also wonder if there are many accidents here, relative to the number of vehicles there are on these crazy roads; our guide tells us that there are fewer accidents per capita here than the US, because everybody knows what everyone else is doing. While I know that drunk driving here is as much as problem as it is anywhere else, I think about road rage and the resulting accidents, I-5 traffic jams, single drivers in the carpool lane, and slowpokes in the passing lanes, and I don’t really have an argument against that statement.
Chau Doc, Vietnam
Every country we’ve visited seems to impress us in terms of their vehicular traffic in one way or another, whether it’s in the number of cars on the road or the absence of vehicular traffic altogether. Vietnam is no exception, where we have been most impressed by the roads that are completely teeming with motorbikes. Scooters, mopeds, motorcycles, however you name it, if it has two wheels and is motorized, in can be found in Vietnam, from the cities to the countryside, from the North to the South.
The road infrastructure shows evident signs of the popularity of motorbikes, as there are ramps built into the curbs in front of shopfronts, special motorbike pathways across bridges, and hundreds of “rua xe,” or motorbike washing, signs all along the roadside.
When it comes to figuring out the maximum capacity of these 150cc motorbikes, every time we think we’ve seen it all, we see something else that astounds us. First we couldn’t believe there were three people squeezing onto one bike, then we commonly started seeing families of four all on one bike, and then we saw even five and six people on one bike. Mothers with babies facing backwards fast asleep, oblivious to the din of traffic, toddlers dangling off the ends of the seats waving madly at us as they zoomed by—it seemed like our need for the “family sedan” back at home for a family of four became rather redundant.
Then comes the cargo; how many boxes can fit on the back of a motorbike? How much firewood? How many cages filled with squawking chickens? How many massive grunting pigs rolled up in bamboo? We saw single riders carrying 14 foot plumbing tubes balance precariously on their shoulders, other motorcyclists holding big bands of rebar with their metal ends bouncing wildly up and down as the riders tried to avoid potholes with just one hand on the controls. We’d even see a few motorcycles go by with a second fellow clutching a large pane of glass stretching ten feet into the sky, balanced precariously on the bike seat perched against the driver’s back.
I think Cairo still wins the “Worst Traffic” award among the cities that we’ve visited so far, Hanoi and Saigon are definitely in the top ten, not in terms of the slowest of the traffic, but in terms of the density of vehicles that jam up the city streets. In Hanoi, the first large Vietnamese city we encountered, just crossing the street was an eye-opening experience on the first day. There never seemed to be a lull in the constant stream of motorcycles that were coming down the road; there was simply no end. In order to cross the street, you simply have to step into the road and confidently and calmly step across without making any sudden movements. It was amazing to see how the motorcycle traffic would part and split around you like the flow of a river, nobody stopping or even slowing down much, just making their way around and behind you as you walked across the street. If you panicked and tried to run, you’d surely be roadkill. After the first day, we had just as amazingly become used to the whole phenomenon, not ever really being fazed by some close calls as we could feel the wind of passing motorbikes who were cutting things just a wee bit close.
Motorbike traffic in Saigon was much the same as what we experienced in Hanoi, except on a somewhat larger scale, with more bikes involved, and larger roads to cross. However, there did seem to be a bit more order to the chaos, as there were more traffic lights in the city, and you would sometimes be able to experience a lull in the traffic every now and then. When we contemplated about the difference in traffic between Saigon and Hanoi, we couldn’t tell which one was better or worse, or if our first experience in Hanoi made a stronger impression whereas we were used to it by the time we reached Saigon.
However, all bets were off in the evening that we first entered Saigon just two nights before Tet, the Vietnamese New Year festival, when the whole country erupts into celebration for five days. Some streets around the main square opposite City Hall and the Opera House were shut down to vehicular traffic and quickly filled with walking families out to see the fabulous night lights and colours of the festival. However, it seemed that every other family was out on their motorbike driving on the open streets creating a low but rumbling roar that filled all your senses. The din of little engines combined in cacophony of honking and beeping that filled your chest with reverberating noise and your ears with a deafening raucous growl. You had to shout so the person walking beside you could hear you. People rode around in one large sinewy pack of bikes that had to beginning and no end, just a constant blur of motion and noise and hot fumes. It was fascinating to watch and hear, and we simply stood there and watched, transfixed by the sheer volume of motorbikes and people in one area. Where they were all going, we don’t know, but we won’t forget the pulsating motorbike excitement of Tet in Saigon any time soon.
Traveling up and down the roads of Saigon reinforces the fact that Vietnam is a country on the verge of a boom of expansion and development some time in the near future. Not only are roads being constantly repaired and constructed everywhere we’ve been (although there are many roads that are in dire need of improvement as well), but there are hardly any patches of road that don’t have villages, huts, and people nearby or right alongside them. One town seems to blend into another, areas of farmland will have vegetable stalls along the road; it is difficult to think of areas we’ve driven past where we didn’t seem people selling or making something for more than a few hundred meters. Even when we got off the main roads and headed into the villages we saw all kinds of activity by the side of the dirt tracks we were on; not until we headed into a national park or the deep countryside of the North did we go a few minutes without encountering a shop or stall.
Safety in vehicles is obviously not a major concern here, as evidenced by the incredible capacity of motorbikes. Seat belts seem to be an afterthought, as most of the taxis and busses we’ve been in have not even had any. Although, there was the odd occasion where our bus driver would click into his own seat belt, which was really concerning, considering how the rest of us didn’t have any. What is completely odd though, is how we religiously wear our seatbelts at home, in either the driver or passenger seats, but when we step into these other countries, we don’t really give much thought about it at all. It doesn’t really make much sense, but I suppose when in Rome, do as the Romans do, or something to that effect anyway.
As in most developing countries we’ve visited so far, road rules seem to go by the basic premise that the bigger your vehicle is, the more right of way you have. The drivers of the public busses must feel that the more people in their bus they have, the more mass they must have, thus the more power they must have with which to ram their way through slower traffic. Horns are used with wild abandon, although not with the constant frequency of horns in India. Passing slower vehicles happens every 30 seconds or so, and near misses with oncoming passing vehicles are quite common. In fact, the government has seen fit to lay down strips of speed bumps in certain areas that they felt required slower traffic; rather than slow vehicles down, all these speed bumps serve to do is make traffic move into oncoming traffic in order to avoid them altogether; we’ve lost count of the number of times we grabbed our seats as our bus driver would swerve into the opposite lane to avoid having to go over speed bumps, almost clipping the oncoming traffic in the process.
I wonder how our driving will be when we get home, and whether we will take a day or a month to get used to the rules and regulations of the road. I also wonder if there are many accidents here, relative to the number of vehicles there are on these crazy roads; our guide tells us that there are fewer accidents per capita here than the US, because everybody knows what everyone else is doing. While I know that drunk driving here is as much as problem as it is anywhere else, I think about road rage and the resulting accidents, I-5 traffic jams, single drivers in the carpool lane, and slowpokes in the passing lanes, and I don’t really have an argument against that statement.
Adverse Attitudes toward America
Chau Doc, Vietnam
I'm going to part momentarily from the typically neutral nature of my postings, and delve into some subjective territory for a change. The reason for having this blog is primarily for Jen and I to record our journey around the world in written format, and I think this should also include how travelling and meeting people affects how we feel about certain issues. There is certainly no intention to offend, so hopefully none is taken.
Chatting with our last group of tour mates during the past three weeks has made me think more about the pervasive anti-American sentiment that seems to exist throughout the rest of the world. This sentiment is not restricted to Muslim or Middle Eastern countries, but is really everywhere… from Europe to Africa to Asia to Australia. This latter continent was strongly represented by our tour mates, all of whom are from Australia, and in one case, New Zealand. Throughout our numerous friendly discussions over dinner, most of them seemed to harbour a robust sense of enmity towards the United States of America. Like most other people we’ve met on this journey so far, upon finding out that we weren’t American (although we sound like it as most Canadians sound the same apparently), they suddenly made us privy to a whole slew of anti-American opinion.
Much of this unchecked hostility was directed at current US president George W. Bush, who according to some, apparently has all the brains of a “retarded monkey.” His foreign policies serve to “split up the civilized world,” and it is unbelievable how Americans “blindly follow this war-monger to conflict like lemmings over a cliff.” Now, although I’m no big fan of Mr. Bush myself, this is pretty harsh rhetoric coming from those who aren’t really any more educated about him than from what they are fed by the news media. I find myself often mildly suggesting that one man doesn’t make a whole country, and that we have many American friends who are just as peace-loving and friendly as the next “civilized” person.
Unfortunately, whether or not the US President or Americans themselves deserve to be regarded as the world’s nemesis, the fact remains that there is certainly a great deal of antagonism towards all things American. We have had our fair share of experiences over the last few years and on this trip that have clearly demonstrated this. In Nairobi, a taxi driver spat at the US Embassy as we drove by, telling us that US Marines tossed local wounded Kenyans out of the way to tend to the injured Americans who were hurt during the embassy bombing incident. In Egypt, a tourist policeman says that Americans need special protection because everyone hates Americans, and so does he, but it is his job to protect them, so he does. Our Australian friends tell us that they are disillusioned with their Prime Minister for being a puppet of the US war-mongers, like being a wimpy puppy being led around by a big, bullying dog.
Certainly various wars and battles that the US has been involved with over the last few generations have done much to create the sense of anti-Americanism that exists throughout the world. Being in Vietnam now, it is difficult to look at the countryside through the bus windows without wondering how things were thirty years ago when B-52’s were dropping their ammo loads over fields that look idyllic today. However, why is it that in terms of international attitudes towards America, things seem to be getting worse in the last decade or so, instead of getting better?
I’m sure there are those in the States who would say that, “they’re just jealous, they want what we have, they know we’ve got the best economy, the smartest people and the most powerful weapons.” Well, maybe that’s true, maybe it isn’t, but that kind of attitude certainly won’t help the situation. There are also probably those who might say well, the American government is bad, but they don’t equate to the American people. That also may or may not be true, but I would submit that that’s at least a bit more of an open-minded viewpoint. We’ve encountered many people who seem to base their opinions and feelings on what they see on CNN or their favourite news media source, and then lump the fate of an entire country or people into the same pot that perhaps only a handful of politicians belong in.
In fact, we all do this to a certain extent, and it irks me to no end to see how much my fellow Canadians seem to enjoy slagging the US and Americans in general. Speaking to some of my friends in Canada, you’d think that Americans were devil-spawn or something like that. I remember how anti-American I used to be myself before I moved down to the States seven years ago. In fact, the first day of my Canadian literature class in high school was a lesson on anti-Americanism, and how we needed to focus on Canadian literary masterpieces in order to free our minds. Back then, I thought Canadians were by far the better people; we were peacekeepers, we didn’t pick fights, we weren’t bullies. But after the bike trip that my buddy Andy and I did from Coos Bay, Oregon down the West Coast to the Mexican border where we met countless numbers of friendly, helpful American people, I had to question my Canadian sense of moral superiority. And of course, after living in the States for several years now, it is clear to me that many Americans are just as normal and peace-loving as Canadians, and I wish that some of my more vocal Canadian friends would open their minds to the concept that our neighbours to the south are far more similar to us than we want to believe.
We met a couple from Vancouver the other day in Hoi An, who were delighted to meet two other Canadians, but were quite confused when they found out we lived in Seattle. “You LIKE it there?” they asked incredulously. “You CHOSE to go to the US yourself?” as if to imply that some kind of evil force brought us down to Washington against our will. I’m afraid that kind of close-mindedness is as exasperating as the classic redneck “We’re Number One” attitude of the archetypical arrogant American.
There’s a famous Molson Canadian beer commercial that I love that’s often referred to as the “Joe, I am Canadian,” commercial. It pokes fun at the differences between Canadians and Americans, but doesn’t turn the whole conflict into a 49th Parallel pissing match. “We believe in peacekeeping, not policing… and it’s pronounced “ABOUT” not “A-BOOT!” In fact, I even used it a few times at various client sites at work, to introduce myself to others during presentations; it always generated grins and lightened the mood before I would start my boring PowerPoint presentation. It’s a shame that we can’t seem to view our differences in that light, with a bit more of a humourous acceptance.
Like most traveling Canadians, we wear our Canadian flag patches on our packs with a great deal of pride. Unlike many Canadian travelers though, we’re not trying to tell everyone else that we’re not American; we’ve long since learned that people around the world don’t think we’re American, they think we’re Japanese, of course. I’ve given up on trying to explain to people that we’re Canadian Chinese, and Jen was born in Malaysia, as was my mom, but my parents met and married in Australia, and now we live in the United States… Now, I just say, “Hai, arigato!”
What does this worldwide anti-American issue mean for the common bloke on the ground, the average Joe who doesn’t really care too much about International Relations, but feels vaguely uneasy about all this international hostility? Well, I personally think that it’s a shame that more Americans don’t travel more internationally, for one. Somebody once told me that less than ten percent of American citizens hold a passport, which is an astounding figure, if it’s true. You can’t promote global acceptance and understanding if you aren’t willing or interested in taking a peek at what lies beyond your own borders. I was amazed to hear that the esteemed Mr. Bush hadn’t even traveled internationally before his Presidency, with the exception of taking a vacation in Cancun, Mexico. The Leader of the Greatest Nation in the Free World, and he hasn’t set foot in another country before being elected (supposedly) President? Isn’t that like asking a person to play a Beethoven concerto without having sat down at a piano before? Hopefully the advisors around them have held passports before they took up their bureaucratic positions.
Mind you, I’m contradicting myself somewhat, pointing out the blemishes of a single leader and implying that the people are somewhat responsible for that. Not that this doesn’t bring the whole electoral process into question though; how can we forget the irony of the most technologically advanced nation dealing with “hanging chads.” Too often we conveniently suffer from attention deficit disorder, and forget our mistakes of the recent past.
For the regular non-American individual, whether he/she is Swedish, Australian, or Tanzanian, this pervasive anti-Americanism means that normal open-minded people can turn pretty ugly in the blink of an eye, which is a real shame. How this can be addressed and corrected, I don’t know; it can probably only happen with a great deal of change in US foreign policy, and a good chunk of time. Maybe it might be healthier if the US let others deal with their own problems for a change, and lend a hand when it’s asked for, as opposed to when they think it’s required. Maybe it might mean spending more funds on dealing with their own domestic issues first and creating an example of themselves for others to follow rather than pouring billions of dollars into a conflict with no indisputably justifiable reason. There are no easy answers, and with terrorism being so commonplace these days it has almost become routine in some areas, I fear that things are going to get worse before they get better.
It’s not a question that can easily be answered in a day or a month or a year, getting a group of experts in sociology together to come up with an action plan isn’t going to solve anything, there are far too many grey areas. It will unfortunately be a while before tensions stemming from anti-American sentiment subside. But one thing is certain, there are very few who can escape blame or responsibility for promoting this situation, until we all start to focus on our commonalities rather than our differences. Hopefully the next generation will able to think more globally rather than confine their frame of reference to the imaginary lines and borders that perpetuate the concept of Us and Them.
The words of a Moroccan man I chatted with in Marrakech echo in my ears. “The Moroccan government is not very good; many people have a difficult life here. The American government is not good; they make many bad decisions for the world. The Moroccan people and the American people and people all over the world are the same; we are all mostly good people but we all suffer together for the misdeeds of our politicians.”
Chau Doc, Vietnam
I'm going to part momentarily from the typically neutral nature of my postings, and delve into some subjective territory for a change. The reason for having this blog is primarily for Jen and I to record our journey around the world in written format, and I think this should also include how travelling and meeting people affects how we feel about certain issues. There is certainly no intention to offend, so hopefully none is taken.
Chatting with our last group of tour mates during the past three weeks has made me think more about the pervasive anti-American sentiment that seems to exist throughout the rest of the world. This sentiment is not restricted to Muslim or Middle Eastern countries, but is really everywhere… from Europe to Africa to Asia to Australia. This latter continent was strongly represented by our tour mates, all of whom are from Australia, and in one case, New Zealand. Throughout our numerous friendly discussions over dinner, most of them seemed to harbour a robust sense of enmity towards the United States of America. Like most other people we’ve met on this journey so far, upon finding out that we weren’t American (although we sound like it as most Canadians sound the same apparently), they suddenly made us privy to a whole slew of anti-American opinion.
Much of this unchecked hostility was directed at current US president George W. Bush, who according to some, apparently has all the brains of a “retarded monkey.” His foreign policies serve to “split up the civilized world,” and it is unbelievable how Americans “blindly follow this war-monger to conflict like lemmings over a cliff.” Now, although I’m no big fan of Mr. Bush myself, this is pretty harsh rhetoric coming from those who aren’t really any more educated about him than from what they are fed by the news media. I find myself often mildly suggesting that one man doesn’t make a whole country, and that we have many American friends who are just as peace-loving and friendly as the next “civilized” person.
Unfortunately, whether or not the US President or Americans themselves deserve to be regarded as the world’s nemesis, the fact remains that there is certainly a great deal of antagonism towards all things American. We have had our fair share of experiences over the last few years and on this trip that have clearly demonstrated this. In Nairobi, a taxi driver spat at the US Embassy as we drove by, telling us that US Marines tossed local wounded Kenyans out of the way to tend to the injured Americans who were hurt during the embassy bombing incident. In Egypt, a tourist policeman says that Americans need special protection because everyone hates Americans, and so does he, but it is his job to protect them, so he does. Our Australian friends tell us that they are disillusioned with their Prime Minister for being a puppet of the US war-mongers, like being a wimpy puppy being led around by a big, bullying dog.
Certainly various wars and battles that the US has been involved with over the last few generations have done much to create the sense of anti-Americanism that exists throughout the world. Being in Vietnam now, it is difficult to look at the countryside through the bus windows without wondering how things were thirty years ago when B-52’s were dropping their ammo loads over fields that look idyllic today. However, why is it that in terms of international attitudes towards America, things seem to be getting worse in the last decade or so, instead of getting better?
I’m sure there are those in the States who would say that, “they’re just jealous, they want what we have, they know we’ve got the best economy, the smartest people and the most powerful weapons.” Well, maybe that’s true, maybe it isn’t, but that kind of attitude certainly won’t help the situation. There are also probably those who might say well, the American government is bad, but they don’t equate to the American people. That also may or may not be true, but I would submit that that’s at least a bit more of an open-minded viewpoint. We’ve encountered many people who seem to base their opinions and feelings on what they see on CNN or their favourite news media source, and then lump the fate of an entire country or people into the same pot that perhaps only a handful of politicians belong in.
In fact, we all do this to a certain extent, and it irks me to no end to see how much my fellow Canadians seem to enjoy slagging the US and Americans in general. Speaking to some of my friends in Canada, you’d think that Americans were devil-spawn or something like that. I remember how anti-American I used to be myself before I moved down to the States seven years ago. In fact, the first day of my Canadian literature class in high school was a lesson on anti-Americanism, and how we needed to focus on Canadian literary masterpieces in order to free our minds. Back then, I thought Canadians were by far the better people; we were peacekeepers, we didn’t pick fights, we weren’t bullies. But after the bike trip that my buddy Andy and I did from Coos Bay, Oregon down the West Coast to the Mexican border where we met countless numbers of friendly, helpful American people, I had to question my Canadian sense of moral superiority. And of course, after living in the States for several years now, it is clear to me that many Americans are just as normal and peace-loving as Canadians, and I wish that some of my more vocal Canadian friends would open their minds to the concept that our neighbours to the south are far more similar to us than we want to believe.
We met a couple from Vancouver the other day in Hoi An, who were delighted to meet two other Canadians, but were quite confused when they found out we lived in Seattle. “You LIKE it there?” they asked incredulously. “You CHOSE to go to the US yourself?” as if to imply that some kind of evil force brought us down to Washington against our will. I’m afraid that kind of close-mindedness is as exasperating as the classic redneck “We’re Number One” attitude of the archetypical arrogant American.
There’s a famous Molson Canadian beer commercial that I love that’s often referred to as the “Joe, I am Canadian,” commercial. It pokes fun at the differences between Canadians and Americans, but doesn’t turn the whole conflict into a 49th Parallel pissing match. “We believe in peacekeeping, not policing… and it’s pronounced “ABOUT” not “A-BOOT!” In fact, I even used it a few times at various client sites at work, to introduce myself to others during presentations; it always generated grins and lightened the mood before I would start my boring PowerPoint presentation. It’s a shame that we can’t seem to view our differences in that light, with a bit more of a humourous acceptance.
Like most traveling Canadians, we wear our Canadian flag patches on our packs with a great deal of pride. Unlike many Canadian travelers though, we’re not trying to tell everyone else that we’re not American; we’ve long since learned that people around the world don’t think we’re American, they think we’re Japanese, of course. I’ve given up on trying to explain to people that we’re Canadian Chinese, and Jen was born in Malaysia, as was my mom, but my parents met and married in Australia, and now we live in the United States… Now, I just say, “Hai, arigato!”
What does this worldwide anti-American issue mean for the common bloke on the ground, the average Joe who doesn’t really care too much about International Relations, but feels vaguely uneasy about all this international hostility? Well, I personally think that it’s a shame that more Americans don’t travel more internationally, for one. Somebody once told me that less than ten percent of American citizens hold a passport, which is an astounding figure, if it’s true. You can’t promote global acceptance and understanding if you aren’t willing or interested in taking a peek at what lies beyond your own borders. I was amazed to hear that the esteemed Mr. Bush hadn’t even traveled internationally before his Presidency, with the exception of taking a vacation in Cancun, Mexico. The Leader of the Greatest Nation in the Free World, and he hasn’t set foot in another country before being elected (supposedly) President? Isn’t that like asking a person to play a Beethoven concerto without having sat down at a piano before? Hopefully the advisors around them have held passports before they took up their bureaucratic positions.
Mind you, I’m contradicting myself somewhat, pointing out the blemishes of a single leader and implying that the people are somewhat responsible for that. Not that this doesn’t bring the whole electoral process into question though; how can we forget the irony of the most technologically advanced nation dealing with “hanging chads.” Too often we conveniently suffer from attention deficit disorder, and forget our mistakes of the recent past.
For the regular non-American individual, whether he/she is Swedish, Australian, or Tanzanian, this pervasive anti-Americanism means that normal open-minded people can turn pretty ugly in the blink of an eye, which is a real shame. How this can be addressed and corrected, I don’t know; it can probably only happen with a great deal of change in US foreign policy, and a good chunk of time. Maybe it might be healthier if the US let others deal with their own problems for a change, and lend a hand when it’s asked for, as opposed to when they think it’s required. Maybe it might mean spending more funds on dealing with their own domestic issues first and creating an example of themselves for others to follow rather than pouring billions of dollars into a conflict with no indisputably justifiable reason. There are no easy answers, and with terrorism being so commonplace these days it has almost become routine in some areas, I fear that things are going to get worse before they get better.
It’s not a question that can easily be answered in a day or a month or a year, getting a group of experts in sociology together to come up with an action plan isn’t going to solve anything, there are far too many grey areas. It will unfortunately be a while before tensions stemming from anti-American sentiment subside. But one thing is certain, there are very few who can escape blame or responsibility for promoting this situation, until we all start to focus on our commonalities rather than our differences. Hopefully the next generation will able to think more globally rather than confine their frame of reference to the imaginary lines and borders that perpetuate the concept of Us and Them.
The words of a Moroccan man I chatted with in Marrakech echo in my ears. “The Moroccan government is not very good; many people have a difficult life here. The American government is not good; they make many bad decisions for the world. The Moroccan people and the American people and people all over the world are the same; we are all mostly good people but we all suffer together for the misdeeds of our politicians.”
- 05/18/2003 - 05/24/2003
- 05/25/2003 - 05/31/2003
- 06/08/2003 - 06/14/2003
- 06/15/2003 - 06/21/2003
- 06/22/2003 - 06/28/2003
- 06/29/2003 - 07/05/2003
- 07/06/2003 - 07/12/2003
- 07/13/2003 - 07/19/2003
- 07/20/2003 - 07/26/2003
- 07/27/2003 - 08/02/2003
- 08/03/2003 - 08/09/2003
- 08/10/2003 - 08/16/2003
- 08/17/2003 - 08/23/2003
- 08/24/2003 - 08/30/2003
- 08/31/2003 - 09/06/2003
- 09/07/2003 - 09/13/2003
- 09/14/2003 - 09/20/2003
- 09/21/2003 - 09/27/2003
- 09/28/2003 - 10/04/2003
- 10/05/2003 - 10/11/2003
- 10/12/2003 - 10/18/2003
- 10/19/2003 - 10/25/2003
- 10/26/2003 - 11/01/2003
- 11/02/2003 - 11/08/2003
- 11/09/2003 - 11/15/2003
- 11/16/2003 - 11/22/2003
- 11/23/2003 - 11/29/2003
- 11/30/2003 - 12/06/2003
- 12/07/2003 - 12/13/2003
- 12/14/2003 - 12/20/2003
- 12/21/2003 - 12/27/2003
- 12/28/2003 - 01/03/2004
- 01/04/2004 - 01/10/2004
- 01/11/2004 - 01/17/2004
- 01/18/2004 - 01/24/2004
- 01/25/2004 - 01/31/2004
© 2003-2004 Winston & Jennifer Yeung. All Rights Reserved.