Saturday, February 28, 2009

Trip to Beijing

Less than 24 hours after getting back to Changzhou I was back in the hard sleeper car on an overnight journey to Beijing. Jocelyn Bonneau, a friend from TU had come to visit Dave and me. During his cross-country bike ride with Travis Ulrich (another friend from TU) last summer, Dave visited Jocelyn in Connecticut, and convinced her to come visit us in China. She had been wanting to visit China for some time, as her dad occasionally does business here, so our living here gave her a great chance. Bryan, one of the other teachers here (from Bartlesville, OK, an OU grad) also joined us on the trip.

We arrived in Beijing, found a nice, yet reasonable hotel very quickly and were on our way to the sites. We visited Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace, and the Mao Zedong mausoleum. Yes, I have now seen the preserved bodies of two of the major communist leaders in the world. I guess I’ll have to make the trek to Russia to see Stalin, and then wait for Castro to die and the Cubans and Americans to settle some issues and I’ll have the dead communist leader tour wrapped up. Mao’s preserved body looked a lot more wax like than that of Ho Chi Minh, so I can’t say for sure whether we saw the real thing or the wax model that was made as a precaution. The number of police and security cameras around Tiananmen Square was by far the most striking thing; clearly the Chinese government isn’t looking for a repeat of what happened twenty years ago. I was pretty impressed with the magnitude of the Forbidden City and some of the palaces were pretty ornate. It seems that the emperors did a good job of being emperors and devoting all the natural resources to personal enrichment. The Summer Palace wasn’t as impressive as I had hoped, but maybe I ought to visit it in the summer, when all the flowers are in bloom and the lake isn’t frozen over. One of the more amusing things that occurred at all the tourist sites was Jocelyn’s instant transformation into a celebrity. Her blonde hair is a prized commodity in China, and she was asked more than a few times to take pictures with Chinese children and teens. We were glad to have our claims to her that being a foreigner here is quite the ego boost prove so true.

Our second day in Beijing was one of the best I have had so far in China. We headed out early and made our way to the Great Wall, which is about an hour and a half outside of the city. We chose to start out at Jinshanling one of the less visited but still very accessible points on the wall. From there we walked along the wall for about ten kilometers to Simatai, a more popular spot on the wall. The Great Wall far exceeded my expectations, and I had pretty high expectations. Its magnitude was amazing, astounding, the surrounding hills were gorgeous-very simple, but it was the wall’s continuing presence against the consistent hills that made it so amazing. I know it sounds very basic and obvious, but I was most impressed by the fact that we walked for the good portion of a day, and the wall never stopped, either way we turned at any point, its simple, tan, brick essence continued. By covering a fair amount of ground we were able to see the many different states of the wall. It was well repaired and completely intact at some points, and at others had crumble to not much more than a five or six foot high pile of rocks. The destruction is not due to Mongol warriors or the rain and wind, but rather is due to the more recent trend of local farmers taking the bricks for personal use. Luckily, as it has turned into a tourist cash cow, there are now guards every kilometer or two with radios to make sure only the weather harms it any more. One of the main reasons that it was so enjoyable was due to the fact that although it’s one of the main sites in China, we were more or less alone on the wall. During our whole walk, we saw fewer than ten other tourists, a few guards, and maybe three or four vendors. We were able to explore all the abandoned guard towers in a sometimes-eerie silence. The weather was surprisingly warm and clear, so we got the off-season lack of crowds without the winter weather.
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During my time in Beijing I was able to pretty much bridge the gap in the food category. We ate dinner one night on a street filled with street vendors. Their offerings were more expensive and less filling than those outside the school gate in Changzhou, but I guess that should be expected in a touristy area of Beijing. While there, I noticed a woman with two young girls (probably her daughter and daughter’s friend). They were looking at the various items on a stick, which included lamb strips, beef strips, chicken strips, starfish, seahorses, scorpions, squid, eels, and beetles. Yes, for 5 or 10 yuan, you can have any of this scrumptious variety put on a stick and grilled. As Bryan and I were eating our lamb strips, I commented to the lady jokingly that the scorpion was good. She somehow understood my poor attempt at Chinese and responded. I told that they really were good, and then smiled and told her I was joking. But she wasn’t. The vendor then handed her the grilled beetles that she had ordered, unbeknownst to me. Apparently she was a little more adventurous than I thought. So, I couldn’t back down, and ate one of the beetles. It actually tasted okay, it was the texture and crunching that was more upsetting as I ate it. That was the low end of the food spectrum, in case you weren’t sure. Another night, we treated our taste buds right and went to one of the well-recommended Peking duck restaurants. It was quite fancy, and the food was absolutely great. We ordered an entire roasted duck, which was the best part. They bring the whole duck right out to the table and carve it for you, which was good, because I would’ve been up a creek without a paddle trying to cut up the duck. The night we ate there was Lantern Festival (marking the end of the Spring Festival period), which was great, because it showed Jocelyn the full affinity of the Chinese people towards fireworks.

One last thing to note from our trip to Beijing was, oddly enough, manners. I think I have alluded once or twice to the general lack of manners of the Chinese people. Spitting in public is okay, as long as the person spitting makes sure to clear his throat at rock concert volume. This isn’t really that problematic, though, as I have quickly learned to heed the throat clearing warning and get out of the loogie path. Talking loudly on the cell phones and playing music out loud is something that can be tuned out. For me, the most frustrating thing associated with manners is the complete lack of lines in China. When loading the bus, train, or subway, buying tickets, getting food at restaurants, and many more things; there are no lines. It is push to the front or be pushed to the back. Even where lines are formed (by gates, fences) I can always count on a fair number of people simply going to the front of the line, hopping the barrier, and squeezing to get in front. I generally just wait around the back of lines and let all the Chinese people go in front of me. I see absolutely no value in pushing to get on a train with assigned seats. The Chinese world was turned on its axis when we waited for our first bus in Beijing. Without instruction, or barriers, everyone formed a neat, single file line. It was like I was back in the States, or even better, England, where lining up (queuing) is paramount. Later on, on the subway, we were amazed as almost everyone would allow the alighting passengers time and space before getting in the cars. It was nuts. Some of this may be due to the fact that Beijing is much better educated, developed, and cosmopolitan than most of China. But, Shanghai is much more Western, and by far the most cosmopolitan city in China (I exclude Hong Kong and Macau by colonial default). The reason for this, according to an American who has lived there for four years was the deluge of public service announcements in Beijing before the Olympics. He said the change was day and night. Leading up to the Olympics, the government ardently informed its citizens that spitting, smoking, pushing, and crying would not be tolerated during the Olympics. Basic manners instructions were also given. Now, China was a mostly closed empire for centuries, then suffered through a civil war and war with Japan, and then, from 1949 to 1978, was essentially closed off to the outside world (save a ping pong team or two). So, they care a lot about how they are perceived by foreigners, and are incredibly patriotic. Thus, the public service announcements were heeded, and getting around Beijing is much, much more comfortable than in the rest of China. Now, if only the Olympics were coming to Changzhou…

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Back to Changzhou

Well, my trip is almost complete. I am only an hour or so outside of Nanjing, where I will grab a quick train back to Changzhou. Danthemanstan flew back to Shanghai from Hanoi. Dave and I left before him and took an overnight train across the border to Nanning, a city in south-central China, in Guangxi Province. One note about the border crossing: we had to alight the train and get our passports checked slowly but surely on the Vietnamese side. On the other hand, the Chinese, who at least consider efficiency in transport, instead had the border officials board the train, and check and stamp all documents while the train moved along. I assume if there were problems, they would just detain you at the station. From Nanning, Dave flew back to Shanghai, to meet our college friend Jocelyn, who Dave had convinced to visit. I opted for the economical transport: a train ride across more than half of China. Unfortunately, I was again a victim of the Chinese rail system of not selling tickets by Internet or outside the city of departure. So I had to wait a day to get a train to either Nanjing or Shanghai (remember, these are the two major cities on either side of Changzhou). It wasn’t a big problem; I met a nice American girl with Chinese parents (I don’t like to say Chinese American, because that’s really what her parents are) waiting for a train. So we grabbed breakfast and compared notes on living in China-she works in Beijing. I spent a good amount of time at an Internet cafĂ©, found a nice hotel, and relaxed. I was still a little exhausted and weak from my sickness, so I laid around and caught up on world news (with Chinese characteristics) on the CCTV English station. (The picture to the left is something you only can find in these great Asian communist countries. Even the napkin holders are praising the proletariat there).

My train ride has been delightful. I am in the hard sleepers, which aren’t as luxurious as the soft sleepers, but are cheaper and have much more of a community feel. I met some very nice people, and it gave me a good chance to practice my (abysmal) Chinese. I spent most of the time chatting (or trying to chat) with two middle-aged women from Nanjing who took a husband free trip to Hainan (a tropical Chinese island) for a little Spring Festival getaway. Guo Haiyan and Gong Zhiying were there names, and we chatted about our families, jobs, and travels. They were really helpful and patient as I tried to piece together their questions with my phrase book. I could tell they were fairly wealthy for Chinese, as they both knew how to drive and shared a car with their husbands and the fact they were traveling just to travel, not seeking a job or visiting relatives. A nice, quiet, young man joined our conversation. He was going back to the police academy, which is a four year process in China. I also met a very kind factory manager/quality inspector who spoke excellent English. He and his wife were headed to Shanghai to seek employment. I figured he was doing better than most migrant workers, as he was university educated and apparently had enough money to take a six month vacation to visit relatives back home he had lost touch with when previously working in Shanghai. He confirmed my fears about much of what I buy when he told me that the products that fail inspection for export to the U.S. or Europe are simply sold in China. So I guess that means all the toys here have some lead in them…. A very astute young man also talked with me in English. He only looked about 16 or 17, but was in fact the same age as I. He works as electrical engineer, designing new electrical lines. He saw my book (on cosmology and time) and commented that he had read Hawking’s “Brief History of Time” and recommended it to me. When I asked him, he said he didn’t get paid enough and worked too much. It’s a funny thing, all my engineering friends in the States (unlike almost everyone else) are making lots of money and have plenty of job offers. But here in China, where math and science skills are a dime a dozen, people like this guy have to live in somewhat undesirable places and can’t make much money. To top it all off, I was caught off guard when a young woman started talking to me, and then asked if I was headed to Nanchang (one of the large cities on the route). When I told her I was not, she said, too bad, she would’ve offered me a job. She spoke great English, the reason of which she worked at a foreign language institute. It’s a little crazy having jobs offered to me on the train, as close to 25 million migrant workers went home for Spring Festival without a job. But it’s the age-old supply and demand model, and there sure are a lot more uneducated rural Chinese than there are native English speakers here. Everyone is packing their bags and putting on the winter clothes, so it looks like our 33-hour journey is about to end. Don’t worry, 33 hours in the hard sleeper car is quiet comfortable and I was able to meet some great people.

Hanoi

Yesterday was by far the worst day of the trip for me. I woke up early in the morning with a bad case of food poisoning, or some other gastrointestinal infection. I spent the morning in bed, catching up on Asian news (the most interesting of the English channels) and in the afternoon got some medicine at a pharmacy and vitamin enhanced fruit juice at a supermarket (no Pedialyte in Vietnam, apparently). By nighttime, I felt good enough to go to the guidebook recommended water puppet show. It was entertaining, although I think the guidebook was pretty far off with the recommendation. I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I were five. We got up early today to head to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum. We filed through, two by two, silent, with our hands at our sides (yes, a guard tapped me both for a hand in the pocket and crossing my arms). Honestly, seeing the preserved body of “Uncle Ho” was a bit creepy. The giant mausoleum is a bit ironic, as he requested to be cremated. But the Vietnamese lined up numerously to catch a glimpse of the demagogue-ish national icon. We spent the remainder of the day wandering around the old quarter and enjoying some cheap ‘bia hoi’ (draft beer) on a street corner. Hanoi was an okay city; it seemed more crowded and more serious than Ho Chi Minh City and lacked the tropical feel that most of the other Vietnamese cities we visited embodied. To me, the most interesting part of the city was the crowded streets in the old quarter. Although filled with tourists and souvenir shops, they still seem to hold a little bit of a more simple, slow paced way of life. There were enough old Vietnamese men enjoying a ‘bia hoi’, cigarette, and sunflower seeds or women chatting, playing cards, and chewing sunflower seeds for me to get a sense of the relaxed Vietnamese culture.

Yesterday was by far the worst day of the trip for me. I woke up early in the morning with a bad case of food poisoning, or some other gastrointestinal infection. I spent the morning in bed, catching up on Asian news (the most interesting of the English channels) and in the afternoon got some medicine at a pharmacy and vitamin enhanced fruit juice at a supermarket (no Pedialyte in Vietnam, apparently). By nighttime, I felt good enough to go to the guidebook recommended water puppet show. It was entertaining, although I think the guidebook was pretty far off with the recommendation. I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I were five. We got up early today to head to the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum. We filed through, two by two, silent, with our hands at our sides (yes, a guard tapped me both for a hand in the pocket and crossing my arms). Honestly, seeing the preserved body of “Uncle Ho” was a bit creepy. The giant mausoleum is a bit ironic, as he requested to be cremated. But the Vietnamese lined up numerously to catch a glimpse of the demagogue-ish national icon. We spent the remainder of the day wandering around the old quarter and enjoying some cheap ‘bia hoi’ (draft beer) on a street corner. Hanoi was an okay city; it seemed more crowded and more serious than Ho Chi Minh City and lacked the tropical feel that most of the other Vietnamese cities we visited embodied. To me, the most interesting part of the city was the crowded streets in the old quarter. Although filled with tourists and souvenir shops, they still seem to hold a little bit of a more simple, slow paced way of life. There were enough old Vietnamese men enjoying a ‘bia hoi’, cigarette, and sunflower seeds or women chatting, playing cards, and chewing sunflower seeds for me to get a sense of the relaxed Vietnamese culture.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Hanoi

What a journey. That’s about all I can say. I am now in Hanoi, we made it here, found Danthemanstan via email, and had a delightful dinner at a restaurant that is located in a restored old house. The process of getting here was quite the experience though. All in all, the trip took 26 hours from when we were picked up at our hotel to the time we arrived at the bus station here in Hanoi. Our bus was probably moving for only 13 or 14 hours of the trip. This isn’t exactly what I would consider an efficient ratio when traveling.

The trip got off to what I later realized was a very typical start. We got on a mini-bus because it showed up to where we were, and the driver said “bus to Hanoi?” This took us to a very shady looking bus barn/repair shop where we loaded a bus. One of the staff members actually said that he wanted the foreigners to sit in the back because we would be “better protected in a crash.” Apparently it’s okay for the Lao to die in a crash, but not the tourists. Needless to say, such a warning doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in the safety of the journey. We then went to the main bus station, where we waited (on and off the bus) for three hours before we actually left. Why we couldn’t have just been told to be at the bus station at that time, instead of wasting four hours going to the edge of town, is simply beyond me. The rest of the trip followed this pattern: frequent, long, unexplained stops. Each stop was long enough for a slow, sit down dinner, which of course wasn’t what any of the passengers were looking for. My trip was made even less enjoyable by the two men in front of me. They were two older European men, one a Swede and the other I think Italian. Not only did they lean their seats all the way back almost the entire ride, but also both had bad body odor (the Swede was just plain repugnant). I couldn’t ever get comfortable enough to gain much sleep, but so is life on the Viang Chan-Hanoi bus route. I chatted with a very nice Irish couple that was almost done wrapping up a three-continent, seven-month world tour.

The main event of the trip was the border crossing. It was an absolute mess. This occurred between 6:45 and 10:00 AM. Yes, it took more than three hours. The Lao side wasn’t bad, just quite odd. I honestly couldn’t believe it when we entered the building, but candles lit the entire building. I don’t know how all the passports, forms, or money being exchanged didn’t catch on fire, (as like China, lines don’t exist, just pushy mobs). Now, the lack of electricity (or use of it) is made even more odd by the fact that hydroelectric power is a huge industry in Laos, and counts among its biggest exports. But we got the stamps in a relatively quick manner, after paying the weekend fee, which apparently only applies to foreigners. The Vietnamese side was another story. Apparently the bus company doesn’t really care if the border isn’t open when the bus gets to the border (I guess it fits with its ‘inefficiency’ policy). So we waited almost two hours for the Vietnamese border office to open, and by then there were four or five busloads of people waiting to get their passports stamped. As a result, it took quite awhile to make our way to the front of the mob. We slipped some money into our passports (because everyone else did, and the guidebook said a “stamp fee” was common) but I’m not really sure if it was necessary, or even did any good. So go ‘official’ processes in Vietnam. Once across the border though, our trip picked up speed and we did most of the 13 hours of driving. The trip was quite the experience, but not one I am looking to repeat any time soon. I certainly wouldn’t give it anything close to a thumbs up, but it certainly broadened my horizons, which is always a good thing.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Viang Chan

Viang Chan was the locale for our explorations the last day and a half. We checked out a neat old Buddhist temple, the Phat That Luang, a giant golden monument dedicated to Lao Buddhism, a huge arch over a traffic circle similar to the Arc d’Triomphe, and a really neat/far out Buddhist/Hindu park. The giant arch, which has mostly Buddhist decorations, is especially thought provoking, as it was built with American money. The U.S. gave Laos the money in the 60s for a new runway at the airport, but the Lao government used it instead for the arch. I’m not sure which is greater, the money from the arch or the potential revenue from more visitors which a better airport would attract. Nonetheless, the views from the top were pretty cool, so I guess the money wasn’t put to total waste. Dave and I also took in a delightful sauna and massage at a bungalow in the woods near the ground of a Buddhist temple (yes, there are more than a few Buddhist temples in Viang Chan). While at the massage, we ran into the Canadian guys we met on the bus, and a guy and a girl who were traveling separately, but both lived in Beijing. He was from Chicago and she from Toronto, and they joined us and Danthemanstan for a delightful dinner at a very good Japanese restaurant. We then enjoyed some good Beerlao at a rooftop bar on the Mekong River. Viang Chan was a really cool city and well worth visiting. It is very touristy, but also has lots of good restaurants, and provides a good look into what a growing city is like in a truly developing nation. Its infrastructure is less developed than Vietnam’s and well behind that of China, but there are plenty of tuk-tuk drivers, so it was never hard to get around. Dave and I are now setting off for our-possibly awesome or possibly horrible (time will tell)-24 hour bus ride to Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam. Danthemanstan opted to take a flight tomorrow afternoon and should still beat us there.

Viang Chan-Lak 52

We spent last night in Lak 52, which was an incredibly enjoyable experience. Lak 52 is a village north of Viang Chan along Route 13. It is the home to the extended family of John Thao, one of my fraternity brothers at TU. John Thao’s parents immigrated to the US from Laos, but his dad’s cousin (and many other family members as we found out) still live in Lak 52, a Hmong village. We were able to get a bus ride there without much trouble. We arrived with one very, very useful thing. A picture of the address sign that hangs above John’s relative’s door. With the help of a person at every corner (pointing one way or the other) we thought we were getting close. But then it seemed like the addresses skipped the address we were looking for. So we walked up to the porch of a house and asked the couple sitting there if they knew where the house was. Now, to be honest, our asking consisted of pointing to the paper and trying to pronounce some phrase out of the guidebook. They didn’t seem to be quite sure where it was, but it clearly wasn’t near them. So, in an act of incredible kindness and hospitality, the man loaded us into his van, and after asking directions from a few people along the way, took us to the front door of the house. Once there, we played the .mp3 file John Thao had recorded for his relatives, showed them a printed off picture of John Thao, and that was more than enough for our ticket in.

Staying at the village was lots of fun and very interesting. Luckily, one of John’s relatives is an English teacher, so he had sufficient English to explain things to us and have some conversations. He even took us to attend one of his classes. It was cool to meet his students and talk with them; they were pretty funny and happy to talk to us, but not nearly as impressed by our ‘foreigness’ as our students in Changzhou. I got a little more practice driving a motorcycle here as well, although this one was a little touchier than the other one. I thus unintentionally let the throttle out about three times and had to restart. We had very good food while there, the main staples being sticky rice and spinach. Sticky rice really lives out its name, and is so sticky that its customary to just grab a clump with your hands from the central bowl. They cook the food in a small hut alongside the house, using wood fires. The house though, was pretty modern. It had nice tile floors, and electricity was installed 8 years ago, but no running water yet. There was a faucet in the outhouse, which was shared by about three or four households. Our bed even came with a mosquito net, which was quite useful. One very interesting thing about the house was the eclectic wall decorations. There were posters of famous European footballers, Lao or Thai movie stars, and portraits of the family’s ancestors. I guess in Laos it’s not a big problem to tape a picture of David Beckham or Ronaldinho on top of the only remaining photograph of your grandmother. A really cool person was the father of Nha Yang (John’s dad’s cousin, the head of the household). He was 88 and still kicking it, his outfit this morning was an old navy blue suit on top of a purple and yellow football jersey, and needless to say he wore it well. Apparently he has paid his dues, so his life consists of sleeping all day, waking for meals, and the occasional chat on the front porch.

Probably the biggest difference I noticed was how incredibly patriarchal the village culture was. We ate each of our meals together with the men at the table. The women only ate after the men, and did so in the kitchen/hut. During the meal the wife and daughter/niece of Nha Yang would frequently come to refill any of the dishes which were empty or becoming empty. I did my best to try and thank Nha Yang’s wife after each meal, but still felt pretty odd not eating wit them. Another interesting thing happened when we had breakfast. As we ate, the English teacher encouraged us to eat until we were full. So we did. After this, we were headed to his house and then were headed to a party for a cousin who was recently married. When we got to his house, we sat down for another breakfast. His wife and mother had cooked us another delicious feast. Despite our protests that just 20 minutes prior we had eaten “until we were full” we went along and ate what we could. We then walked across some fields and part of the village to the party, passing plenty of chickens, ducks, turkeys, and cattle along the way. The party was essentially a bunch of women butchering a pig, cutting vegetables, and cooking rice and soup. True to the patriarchal way of life, the men sat around, talked, and ate whatever the women were done cooking. Immediately upon arrival, we were placed at the main dining table and given more food. We ate a little to be respectful, but made sure the teacher told everyone that we had already eaten two full meals. By about 11 in the morning we were stuffed beyond belief, gave gracious thanks to all of the extended Thao family and made our way out of the village, very happy that we had decided to visit. To get back to Viang Chan, we walked to the main road, stuck our thumbs up, and rode in style. We were able to ride on an empty, air-conditioned bus for half the price of the ride to the village. Apparently the driver was returning the bus empty for some reason, and welcomed the opportunity to make some easy, fast cash.

Viang Chan (Vientiene)

Sometimes traveling takes a lot of traveling. Today was one of those days. We headed out and took a tuk-tuk (three wheeled motorcycle/cart contraption which serves as the main taxi vehicle in Laos) to the bus station. We quickly grabbed seats on the next bus. And that’s how we spent the next nine hours. It wasn’t the most pleasant journey, but long distance travel is becoming almost secondhand, so it went fairly quickly. The worst part of it was my seat mate, an oversized Lao woman who didn’t give me anything close to my fair share of the seat. But, later she offered me some fruit and corn on the cob, so I can’t say too many bad things about her. One of the more interesting parts of the ride (aside from the bathroom breaks literally ‘in the bushes’-men and women both) was the food vending process. Food vendors would simply load the already crowded bus at the stops, hawk their goods, and then disembark just as we left. It sure did make buying drinks and snacks easier. By the by, we made it to Viang Chan just fine and on the low side of the 8-11 hour guidebook range, albeit a bit sweaty (there was no AC, who am I kidding). A quick tuk-tuk ride into town with two Canadians who were on the bus and we were set. The bus ride allowed me to see a lot of Laos, as we covered about a third of the country. Almost ¾ of the country lives on $2-$3 a day and it was apparent by the thatched roof shacks and dirt roads that dominated the countryside. Its infrastructure also leaves much to be desired, as we were on Route 13, the supposed best highway in Laos, which wasn’t much better than a run down country road in rural Iowa. Most of our traveling in Vietnam was near the shore, and thus the land was fairly moist and fertile. But much of the land in Laos (and we were even close to the Mekong River) was fairly dry. It seemed to be used mostly for cattle, goat, chicken, and water buffalo grazing. I would often see people around drinking beer or eating, and the children playing football or some odd form of volleyball using a futsal ball. I don’t know if the Lao people we passed in the countryside were happy, but they all seemed very relaxed. In another difference from travel in the States (or at least the last 50 years) was that there were at least three times when the driver honked, swerved, or stopped to allow cattle to cross the road. Once again, this is the busiest/best-developed highway in the country.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Hue-Demilitarized Zone-Laos


Today was a busy, interesting, challenging, and amusing day. Up before the crack of dawn, we waited for 45 minutes for our “6:00 AM” bus to finally arrive (more of the Vietnamese ‘hurry up and wait’). We took the bus to Dong Ha, a city just south of the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ). We didn’t have time for a full DMZ tour, so after checking other options, (all closed for Tet) Dave and I rented a motorbike from an enthusiastic hotel owner/tour organizer. Generally, the overaggressive sellers are this way because their products lack the value of the better recommended vendors in the guidebook. Danthemanstan wasn’t too keen on checking out the Vinh Moc tunnels, so he stayed back to take care of a few errands. The tunnels were similar to those at Cu Chi, but we were the only people at the entire site (save a few staff members) so we had a good time exploring the tunnels for about an hour. Being completely unoccupied gave the tunnels a very eerie feel. We even partook of some rice wine and sweetened ginger with one of the few snack vendors; I think because she was just plain bored…but that’s Tet. The fact that I am writing this is proof that Dave and I traversed the 90 km trip to and from the tunnels without a scratch. I even successfully learned how to drive a manual motorcycle (well actually some Vietnamese auto-manual hybrid) on a dirt road and Highway 1A in the DMZ.

After returning we bought tickets to Savannakhet, Laos and boarded a mini-bus/large van. The ride went smoothly (figuratively speaking-it was actually super curvy and bumpy) until we hit the border. At this point we were informed that the driver was only paid enough from our “trusty” tour organizer to take us to the border. He made it clear to us that he had no intention (and probably no permission) to cross the border. After some discussion, phone calls back and forth to the “trusty” travel guy back in Dong Ha, we realized we weren’t getting a ride any further, or any money back. I can’t really complain, I’ve lived a pretty worry-free, affluent, peaceful life, so if some hotel owner (and possibly bus driver) in Dong Ha, Vietnam are going to swindle me for a little bit (to me) of money, I’ll be just fine. So they did. And I crossed an international border by foot (the first time in my life). Laos gave us an appropriate welcome with some goats grazing the field next to the border inspection building. Because the buses only ran in the morning, and we had no plans to stay the night in a border town; we walked on down the road hoping to catch a ride on one of the many pickup truck taxis for which Laos is known. Instead, as quickly as our luck had turned sour, it turned around. We hailed a man driving a very nice Toyota Tacoma (with the steering wheel mysteriously on the right) who agreed to take us all the way to Savannakhet for a very reasonable price. He turned out to be a Thai businessman who was dropping his brother off at the Vietnamese border. He was heading through Savannakhet on his way to Thailand; so it was a great match. He drove like a bat out of hell, and his pickup could handle the occasional rock piles in the middle of the highway. He spoke pretty good English and had a hearty laugh, and because of his hurry, we arrived in town for a nice dinner alongside the Mekong River, looking across to Thailand. We walked around the simple, slow paced town a little bit and now are hitting the sack in a cheap and suitable hotel.

Hue

We spent the last three nights in Hue. Hue is just farther up the coast from Hoi An, although it’s a little removed from the coast, so doesn’t have a beach town feel. Hue was the capital city of the Nguyen dynasty, which ruled much of Vietnam during the 1800s and early 1900s. Unfortunately, the weather was quite poor during our entire stay in Hue. It was either raining, drizzling, cloudy, windy, or some combination. Luckily, our first day there, the hotel receptionist told us that there was a “happy evening festival” to celebrate Tet. After a good lunch of western food (plentiful in this tourist hot spot) we asked her when the party would start. Well, apparently she didn’t quite get the meaning of ‘evening’ so we joined the party in progress. It was an absolute blast. It amounted to continuous toasting with four hotel promoters on the second floor lobby of the hotel. The hotel promoter who took us to our hotel was there, as well as the hotel promoter we had turned down; luckily he didn’t take our refusal personally. With the weather being so poor, it was a great way to spend an afternoon, learning some Vietnamese and enjoying the local Huda beer. Now, if a hotel promoter is a strange profession to you, then you haven’t been to a tourist town in Vietnam. Immediately upon unloading the bus, you are confronted with moto-taxi drivers, taxi drivers, and hotel promoters clawing at you like cats claw at birds in a tree. So, it was cool to see these business competitors hanging out and having fun, due to the holiday season. That night, Tran, the promoter (and owner’s son) of our hotel, took us to the popular spot in the city center to watch the Tet fireworks. It was a great show, and the unbelievable motorcycle traffic to and from the center of town was amazing on its own.

The next day we checked out the Citadel, which contains all the old imperial palaces, forts, buildings, etc. inside its walls. There were some pretty cool structures and the many gardens and minor buildings still in ruins from the war gave it all a very Vietnamese feel. One of the most enjoyable parts of our three nights in Hue was the culinary experience. We had two delicious meals at pretty classy joints. Vietnam is the place to go if you are looking for a well-presented, eight-course meal for less than $12 (including the fantastic fresh fruit shakes). The place where we had this meal was a little classy for our t-shirt and dirty cotton shorts with flip flops attire, but luckily Vietnam is laid back and we’re tourists, so it wasn’t an issue. Another night we had a delectable, candle light meal at the Tropical Garden restaurant. It had a cool environment of white tablecloth and tie-clad waiters combined with an open-air thatched roof. The good food was enhanced by traditional Vietnamese musicians who played throughout the evening. Dave even bought their CD, so contact him if you’re curious. In addition to some good burgers and sandwiches, I had a few of the Hue “pancakes” (fried ground rice stuffed with shrimp, pork, and vegetables) which were quite tasty.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Hoi An

Today was an absolute pleasure, a really great day. We headed out early to go for our bike tour with Steve, the British guy we met last night. He owns a restaurant-bar on an island connected to Hoi An, and also does bike and motorbike tours during the day. He was a great host and quite a humorous fellow. He promised to take us where few tourists go, and that he did. We took a ferry to an island further from the city and spent the day riding around the island. We rode on the dirt trails between rice paddies, by homes with cows grazing and chickens pecking around the motorbikes, to a beautiful, untouched white sand beach, and so much more that rural Vietnam had to offer. One of Steve’s friends, an Irishman also named Steve was with us for some of the day until (in true Irish fashion) he became entrenched drinking beers with the locals. We had delicious fried squid on a floating restaurant and drank plenty of rice wine (much better here than in China) with some local guys about our age. As we rode by, they called out and welcomed us for some wine and food. They were having a small feast on one of the guy’s porch, celebrating Tet and the fact they didn’t have to work. It really was a beautiful and enjoyable day, and the flat terrain made the biking very relaxing. Steve’s Vietnamese wife made some great barbecue ribs and pork chops on our return and even some potato salad, which they definitely don’t have in China (it’s not electronic, so they haven’t been able to copy it).

At night, after some well needed showers, Dave and I hit up one of the few bars in town and via invitation, from some British bar promoters went on a minibus to a beach bar. We chatted for a while with the bar promoters, who seem to have figured it out. They spend their days hanging out in a gorgeous beach town and then get to party and drink for free or at a discount at night. Like one would expect, the beach bar geared towards tourists was expensive, but we had a few beers, hung out with some Australians, Canadians, and Brits, and then grabbed a motorcycle taxi home. I really liked Hoi An because it wasn’t too big, and although pretty touristy, it still had more of a less developed, rural feel. The city was also prettier because it was full of yellow and red flowers and kumquat trees. These are plants somehow involved with Tet, so there are vendors lining almost every street. Steve commented that some Vietnamese make a small fortune selling these items. I am excited to see all the Tet celebrations. It is primarily a family holiday, so I might not get much insight, but should be able to see the fireworks at least. Steve also noted that Tet spending is so great it affects the rates the banks give on short term loans and savings investments. In Full Metal Jacket, I think they describe it as Christmas, your birthday, and New Year’s all wrapped into one. I’m just glad all the decorations made Hoi An even prettier and festive when I visited.

Quy Nhon-Hoi An


Yesterday was a fairly uneventful day in Quy Nhon. We spent a fair amount of time trying to figure out some plane tickets for later in our trip. Like China, Vietnam seems to have many odd quirks that make it unnecessarily difficult to arrange travel. I tend to think that if the middle school kids can afford to go to Internet cafes to play Dance Dance Revolution or FIFA, then Vietnam Airlines ought to be able to use it to book flights, but we were told otherwise. Other than that, Dave and I read on the beach for a while. Quy Nhon was a delightfully peaceful beach town compared to the outrageous hustle of Ho Chi Minh City and the permeating tourism of Nha Trang. One of the restaurants had snake on the menu, so Dave ordered snakehead soup, and we all tried a piece. It tastes a lot like fish.

Today we headed on the bus to Hoi An. The bus ride was dominated by three things: rice paddies, propaganda signs, and bad music via cell phone. Once again it was a minibus, which held about 15 passengers. Ours wasn’t quite full, so we had comfortable space the whole journey. Rice is everywhere in Vietnam. It is the world’s biggest exporter of rice, and it’s easy to see why. Dave read that over 50% of the working population here is involved in rice production. The scenery was nice, and the trip was not as hilly as our previous one, but the rice only scenery can get a bit dull. One interesting thing along the highway is all the government propaganda signs. There are few commercial billboards; but the roadside is dotted with government signs, large and small. I know not what they say, but the government seal and the pictures of cheery citizens make their content clear. Many also incorporate a picture of Ho Chi Minh in the scene or in the background looking over the happy citizens. The third and least enjoyable aspect of the ride was the Vietnamese guy blasting music from his cell phone. There was the occasional traditional Vietnamese song, which was okay, but mainly he played hard rock, and bad hard rock at that. For some reason this is totally okay here (the same in China). Hopefully, headphones will catch on in future generations, but for now, it’s just one more sound (along with incessant honking) to tune out during transport. After the bus ride, we grabbed motorcycle taxis into town and found a hotel.

We enjoyed the sunny afternoon by renting bicycles and exploring the town. Hoi An is very touristy, but also very pretty. It is full of little alley-ways and old houses. On the bike ride we had a nice chat with a Californian named Randy, who relocated to Vietnam and has a bookshop. Upon his recommendation, we booked a bike tour for the next day and had dinner at a scrumptious Indian restaurant. My dish was really good and much like the Indian food I’ve had in Tulsa, so apparently the foreign Indian places are doing a good job with consistency. We also ran into some of the Australians we had met in Nha Trang. Unfortunately, they were in a hurry to return some rented motorbikes and we didn’t see them that night at the bar where they said they might be.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Nha Trang to Quy Nhon

Last night we met up with some of the Australians we met on the boat. The bar was named “Why Not” and served cocktail “buckets” which had all sorts of liquor and enough pineapple juice to make it pretty good. The Australians were a lot of fun and have an awesome song they sing when someone takes a shot. It definitely needs to come back to America. Today started late on account of the “buckets”. After a lunch of pho (it’s hard to find anything else) we headed to the Po Nagar Cham towers. They are a collection of brick structures built on a seaside hill in the 700s dedicated to a Buddhist god. They were pretty impressive and had great views of the ocean. Most of the day was spent on a minibus traveling to Quy Nhon, another coastal town to the north. The bus ride was actually much more exciting than you might think. Although this was not a good thing, as the excitement came from the absolute chaos that is a Vietnamese highway. The concept of lanes hasn’t seemed to catch on in Vietnam, so looking out the front of the bus was fairly terrifying. It seemed like we spent half the ride looking into oncoming traffic; only to dart out of the way at the last second. But we arrived here safely and got a nice hotel room for $12. It is unbelievable how large of a room one can get here for such a low price. It even has a balcony. We had dinner at Barbara’s Kiwi CafĂ©, which had very good and inexpensive Western food. We were even able to meet Barbara, the owner, an expat from New Zealand. She was able to give us some helpful travel tips as well. On our way back we were lucky enough to walk by an open air butcher shop and see them slaughtering pigs. Apparently, the Vietnamese version of OSHA or the FDA isn’t as strict as they are back home.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Nha Trang

After a long and delightful night of sleep, we got up today and headed downstairs to wait for the bus to take us to our boat tour. We did the old Vietnamese hurry up and wait, and then hit the dock for the boat tour. It was a whole lot of fun. We went to one beach for swimming and snorkeling, and like many other water activities, I didn’t do too well. But, the little bit of coral I was able to see was quite spectacular. We also visited two other beaches, which both had entry fees, so the three of us, and some others, decided to just chill on the upper deck and enjoy some Tiger beer. Following lunch, was the “floating bar” portion of the tour, which was a blast. Our very personable tour guide settled onto a large inner tube with a crate of red wine and pineapple slices, and poured it quite liberally into our cups. We all had to manage to float on the inner tube and not spill our wine. All I can say is that life is pretty good when this is the largest of your worries! The aforementioned tour guide was quite a riot. His English was good and he made plenty of fairly good jokes as we went along the tour. I don’t know if he gets tired of doing the same thing every day, but he had a great attitude, which made the tour really fun. Most of the people on the tour were pretty friendly and I met some pretty affable Australians, a funny French guy, and chatted a bit with a middle aged Chinese guy traveling on his own. The Australians were by far the majority on the boat, as Christmas, New Year’s, and summer break all coincide there for the main vacation season. We also met two American girls who were also teaching English in China. All in all, the boat tour was beautiful, very fun, and well worth the time and cost.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Nha Trang


We began today rolling into Nha Trang at 7:30 in the morning, an hour behind schedule. Our first mission was to the train station, where all the tickets were sold out, but we procured tickets to our next locale at the bus station. After that we got a delightful hotel room, just a five minute walk from the beach, at an incredibly low rate, hopefully there will be more of that in the future. Because we were all short of rest from the trip, we took our books to the beach and chilled out. It was gorgeous, perfect weather, and quite peaceful. I even caught up on some sleep from the night before. I would even go to say that it was about as relaxing a day at the beach as one could have. We grabbed dinner at a delicious Vietnamese-Italian restaurant and walked along the town for a bit before heading in for the night.

Ho Chi Minh City

Today started off with quite an adventure. Dave and I had decided the night before to get a massage in the morning, as it is something which prevalent and cheap here. We weren’t really interested in the ‘special’ massages, so we decided to go to the Vietnamese Institute for Traditional Massage. It was very close to our hotel, and cheap, so it was just up our alley (literally and figuratively). It is run by the Ho Chi Minh City Blind Association and all the masseurs are blind. Se we had another good complimentary breakfast and headed out, Danthemanstan was happy to stay at the hotel and sleep in. Dave said he knew where it was, but we couldn’t find it, so we went back to the hotel, looked again, and again were unsuccessful. Now, Dave has a very good sense of direction and we have done fine on all our trips, but we just couldn’t find this place. So we jumped on the Internet at a cafĂ© and got the address (or so we thought). We went to the address, which was a hair salon. At this point, I was intent on getting a massage, given all our searching. So I went in, and tried to “charade” a blind massage parlor to them, but this proved fruitless, albeit quite humorous for the ladies at the salon. As we stepped out of the salon, without a clue where to go, we noticed two blind women walking down the street. We decided that there probably weren’t two blind institutes on one street, so we followed them. Yes, the sighted following the blind. We were amazed how they made it through the absolutely crazy traffic, with the help of a few of the street merchants. We felt a little strange, but it worked, and they led us directly to the massage parlor. The massage was the first in my life and I thought it was pretty good, but I tend to think that it might not be quite top notch. But at only $3 for an hour, it was quite the bargain.

We had a great lunch of pho, the national dish, at a restaurant which the hotel receptionist recommended-Danthemanstan had joined us by now. Pho is rice noodles with onions, green onions, and meat. Fresh greens, hot peppers, sprouts, and lime juice are at every table and can be added at the eater’s desire. It is pretty good and it seems the Vietnamese might eat it for all three meals every day. In the afternoon, we took the tour of the ‘Independence’ or ‘Revolution’ Palace, which is where the Viet Minh stormed their tanks to win the Vietnam War. The highlight of our afternoon though, was a visit to the Laotian consulate. Since we are headed there later in our journey, and we walked right by it, we figured we would inquire about our visas. We showed the guard our passports and entered a very nice set of buildings. We went into the building and all the lights were off. The sign said “open”, but no one was in sight. We hollered hello, and went into the hallway and eventually a few men came out to help us. We partially filled out the forms, but didn’t have any photos. No problem for the Laotians, they just made copies from our passport pictures. We waited awhile, and just like that had visas. Apparently our shoddy paperwork (we weren’t sure of our date of arrival, place of arrival, or final destination in Laos) was good enough for Laos (we think the $50 visa fee was the only important part). The staff at the consulate weren’t exactly in ‘consul’ clothes, but instead board shorts and pastel beach shirts.

An additional highlight of the day was dinner with Tho, the hotel receptionist. She eagerly accepted our invitation to dinner, and showed us to a delicious pho restaurant (big surprise). After dinner, we were off on another journey. We had purchased “sleeper” bus tickets to Nha Trang, a town on the southeastern coast. The bus we loaded didn’t really seem like a sleeper. The seats reclined a lot, so it wasn’t horrible. On the other hand, we had paid for a sleeper bus, and this was not conducive to sleeping. We picked up some other people at stops around town, and the crawled through Ho Chi Minh City traffic for a while. The bus was all about change; it changed from hot to cold and lit to dark at the driver’s (or someone else’s) whim. Then, for the kicker on the unpleasant trip, at about 2 in the morning, the bus stopped. This was customary, but at this stop we all had to get out. Apparently, we were getting on to a real sleeper bus. The second bus was much more comfortable, but of course took over an hour to load, with some less fortunate passengers stuck sleeping on the floor. I did my best to sleep, but it was a pretty poor night’s sleep, even by transportation standards.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Ho Chi Minh City


Today started off the right way with a delightful breakfast of bread, fried eggs, bananas, and pineapple juice. The hotel staff continues to be very helpful, and Tou, a young woman with pretty good English, is super cheery. We then headed over to one of the many tourism companies lining the street in our touristy district and waited for our bus. Eventually we loaded our bus (things are considerably more relaxed time-wise here than in China or the US). Our tour guide, Minh, was a very interesting character. His English vocabulary was stellar, although his accent was pretty thick. His family had moved from North Vietnam to South Vietnam as the VietMinh consolidated power during and after the war with the French. He then studied English and worked as a translator with the 101st Airborne during the war. His story seemed very plausible, but you never know completely what all is true when on a tourist bus. He was not bashful at all with his criticisms of the communists then or the current government. Our first stop was a Cao Dai temple in Tay Ninh, northeast of HCMC. Cao Dai is some wacky conglomeration of about four or five religions. There was a service going on when we visited (I think that all the tours schedule visits according to this) which was kind of interesting. It consisted of a lot of people in white robes (colored for the leaders) chanting and praying continuously. It didn’t seem like a great use of time to me, but I guess that’s why I’m not Cai Dao. Our small tour group then headed to a restaurant for lunch, which was inexpensive (a shock when on a guided tour) and my fried fish was very good. After some more bus time, we went to the Cu Chi tunnels historic area. During the Vietnam War (which has many names here-although not the Vietnamese Civil War) the people of this area and the Viet Minh guerrillas established a system of tunnels. The area has many different outdoor displays scattered throughout the woods/jungle. It displayed some of the different types of tunnels, guerrilla warfare techniques, leftover US artillery, B-52 bomber craters, and lots of gift shops. At the peak of usage there were close to 200 km of tunnels. The locals had essentially set up an underground city, at some points almost directly under US Army bases. We were able to go through a short bit of one tunnel, which had been enlarged and lit for tourists. I can’t really fathom what it would have been like to actually live in this tunnel network for such an extended period of time. At the end of the tour we watched a short documentary/explanatory film; it was anything but pro American and you could almost taste the North Vietnamese disdain for America’s involvement in the war. A very amusing anecdote is that the workers of the historic area wore army and guerrilla uniforms of the Viet Minh. These two visits took most of the day, not because of distance, but because the road infrastructure here still has a ways to go and we of had an obligatory stop at a handicraft shop. For dinner, we had a delightful meal at a nice Vietnamese restaurant. I had two different types of spring rolls, both of which were delicious. We then dropped by one of the bars near our hotel and took advantage of its (delayed) happy hour special. Like everything near our hotel, it was mainly foreigners drinking at the bar.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Ho Chi Minh City

Ho Chi Minh City is quite the place. It was an all senses tour today as we made our way around the city to various sites. Because of our late arrival, we slept in, checked out the maps, and grabbed lunch at a little restaurant around the corner. It was quite good and not too expensive, and because they had a little grill set up, we could point at everything to order (a small, yet significant feature to seek when one doesn't speak the language). One mysterious thing though, was a yellow-greenish liquid we received without asking. Everyone else at the small street-side restaurant was Vietnamese and they were all drinking it, so we figured no harm and drank it. It had a slight tea taste, but mostly, as Danthemanstan observed, it was just like dirty water.


After lunch we headed to the Reunification Palace, which is where the VietMinh drove their tanks in 1975 and won the Vietnam War. Unfortunately, there seemed to be some official functions, so we couldn't go in. Honestly, it looked a lot like the older office buildings in West Des Moines. I guess its historical importance is what makes it a highlight on all the tourist maps. After that we went through the War Remnants Museum, which is the main museum in HCMC dedicated to the Vietnam War, as well as the war with the French which led into the Vietnam War (or American War as it's referred to here). Initially, I was struck at how small and simple the museum was. It has one main building, which had just a few displays and artifacts. Surrounding the building were many different US army bombs, tanks, a plane, and a helicopter in a garden/yard area. There was just one other building with recreated jail cells from a torture prison the French and South Vietnamese used in the beginning of the whole struggle. The museum was very interesting, with some pretty graphic material. Obviously, the VietMinh won the war, and thus control the country. As a result, the museum presented a much different viewpoint/perspective than almost all of my previous education and exposure to the Vietnam War. I was glad to have visited and think it was valuable to see a different perspective.


With the rest of the afternoon we visited a very disappointing Buddhist temple (maybe you need to be Buddhist to appreciate it, maybe not) and checked out the Saigon River. It's primarily used for shipping, so wasn't much to look at, but the park next to it was a good place to rest from a day walking in the heat and humidity. On that note, it's been great weather here, a bit humid, but I can't complain considering it's probably cold and gray in Changzhou. We got lucky in the evening, when the bus we more or less blindly jumped on took us pretty close to the restaurant to which we were headed. It was the guidebook's top pick for gourmet Vietnamese. My food was absolutely fantastic, the only downside being that the prices were also 'gourmet'. We continued our night of luxury by hitting up the rooftop bar of the city's nicest hotel. The view was great and we enjoyed our beers, which were sold at average to high US prices.


There were two really interesting things which I noticed today. The first is crossing streets. It's really one of those things which you have to experience to understand. Nonetheless, I'll try to describe the phenomenom. Motorcycles outnumber cars and buses by a large, large margin. The number of traffic lights seems much lower than it ought to be. So, more or less, the key is to walk slowly and consistently so the motorcycles can weave around you. I don't know how it works, but it does; we crossed many streets and were never hit and never waited very long to cross. My second observation is the incredibly large number of tourists or foreigners around the city. I have previously written about how I am pretty rare on the streets of Changzhou. But here it seems like there is a foreigner around every corner. Much of this is obviously due to the fact we are mainly in the tourist areas, but Vietnam and HCMC are also especially popular for Western tourists. One last thing of note is what I said about the sensory experience. The sidewalks and streets here are full of people and vendors selling and making all sorts of things. Fruit vendors, flower bouquet arrangers, sewing machines, and small noodle restaurants fill the sidewalks and where they aren't there will be a row of motorcycles parked, often with the owners posting up on the seat. It more or less pushes all pedestrian traffic onto the already hectic streets. All of this paired with the constant buzz of motorcycle engines gives the city a very distinctive feel.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Changzhou to Vietnam

We met up again at the school gate and went for lunch to our new favorite, PapaJohn's. I got the BBQ chicken, which was absolutely delightful. After that it was the now very familiar D-train to Shanghai. Then, because we had just two days ago taken the airport bus, we loaded it quickly and made it to the airport without a hitch. The Pudong airport was anything but happening, and we were plenty early so we just sat around and read. As always, we also amused ourselves with Chinese people watching. People watching in China is great for two reasons: one, it's a different culture, so they do all sorts of odd (to me) things; two, there are over 1.3 billion people to watch, so the well never runs dry. Of the three of us, I am probably the least traveled, but even I have been through my fair share of airports. We thus flawlessly made it to Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon) on a nice four hour flight. The best part was the free wine with dinner. We arrived in HCMC a bit after midnight. We made our way to the landing visa area, where we used our printouts from some online service to obtain the visas. The online service seems to be sort of a racket, but it's the only way to avoid five or six days of paperwork in Vietnam. With a visa in our passports, we exchanged some money and became instant multimillionares (unfortunately in Vietnamese dong). It's sort of odd having someone say eight and half million and then handing you a stack of bills, but that's life with the Vietnamese dong. It was pretty late, so we didn't barter too much with the taxi driver, and in doing so probably made his night by paying double the normal fare. The hotel was "down an alley", but very clean and nice; and the AC works well, which is nice in the hot and sticky weather. As we drove to the hotel, the city was pretty bustling for it being 1 am. Obviously it is much more of a tropical climate here, so I think the culture reflects that. The city, upon first impression had a much different feel than the Chinese cities I have visited, with its balconies and open air buildings. It really looked a lot like the Saigon I had seen portrayed in so many Vietnam War movies.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Trip to Dongbei-Jilin (2)

The last two days have been pretty uneventful, but nonetheless very enjoyable. We decided that the skiing was fun, but not especially great and fairly expensive. So we spent yesterday and today moseying around Jilin and experiencing north China. We did some significant searching for the famous 'rime' trees in Jilin. These trees are covered in ice from the hydroelectric plant mixing with the cold water if the river and making some steamy mist which freezes on the trees. We found the main street and park for this phenomenon, but saw no rime. Se we headed into a hotel and the receptionist informed us that the weather was not right to create the spectacle. We did get some nice, powdery snow; but maybe that was the reason for the lack of rime. When searching for lunch one day, we were able to eliminate two restaurants based on the stench upon entering. It was just a little too close to that of a meat rendering plant. Today's search for lunch was also interesting. We knew there were two pizza restaurants in the city, so we asked a very friendly taxi driver to take us to one of them. After awhile we realized that she had no idea where either of them were, despite the fact she claimed to be taking us to a good, big restaurant with pizza. Well she took us instead to KFC, probably because she assumed it was Western, so would be good enough. We informed her that KFC does not serve pizza. So I called our always reliable friend Cao Xingxing, who after talking with the driver told me the woman did not know where either of the restaurants were, or even what pizza was. Instead, with great improvisation (which only the taxi drivers in China can offer) was taking us to a restaurant of her choice, and was also disappointed we didn't want to go to KFC. (Cao Xingxing really is a good sport, I don't think that when she became friends with us she realized it would include random calls in which we say hello and then hand the phone to some strange Chinese person and require her to do our talking for us.) So, we cut our losses, got out and found a suitable restaurant, but no pizza. We are now in Changchun at the airport, awaiting our flight to Shanghai. It has been a very, very fun, interesting, and generally cold trip (but we brought long underwear)!