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Upon arrival in Manila it’s impossible not to notice the main type of public transportation – the Jeepney. True to its name, the front end of the vehicle looks like an Army style jeep, but as it passes by, the … Continue reading
If you’re into drinking in the afternoon, live music, and pooping poultry, Ginny’s Little Longhorn Saloon in Austin, TX is something you’ve got to see. Every Sunday afternoon this delightful honky tonk of a dive bar that actually resembles a church holds a sacred event: Chicken Shit Bingo.
In reality, Chicken Shit Bingo should be called Chicken Shit Lotto, but I guess that’s besides the point. Here’s the drill: Folks line up to buy one of 50 tickets for $2 a piece. The line quickly snakes around this tiny bar so you best be paying attention if you’ve got your heart set on playing Chicken Shit Bingo. In front of this dark but friendly venue stands a pool table covered with a large piece of plywood gridded with 50 carefully numbered squares, all covered in a large chicken wire cage.
Once the tickets are purchased, a crowd gathers around the cage, awaiting the grand entrance of 80-something-year-old Ginny holding the divine chicken. Everyone cheers. Ginny places the slightly jumpy bird in the cage to wander around the giant bingo card table upon which he’s expected to relieve himself.
Then you wait.
And wait.
Folks stand around the cage and shout encouragement as the chicken nears the appropriate side of the cage where their number resides. C’mon chicken! Now! Drop a load now! Crap, chicken, crap! Etc. No wonder it takes him so long to do his business. It’s a lot of pressure for a creature whose brain is the size of a grape.
Finally, after much cajoling and downright heckling, said chicken takes a dump on a square, the crowd goes wild, and the lucky Lone Star drinking ticket holder whose number matches the shat upon spot wins $100!
The best part about this somewhat bizarre ritual that health and human services might take issue with, is that all the while, a true Austin music legend is crooning away in the background. Dale Watson plays this gig every Sunday afternoon. Dale’s a true honky tonk kinda singer and I don’t know many cities in the world where you can hear someone of his caliber playing for free in a dive bar on a Sunday afternoon where the star of the show is actually a shitting chicken.
Generally speaking, Dale’s no second fiddle. If James Dean’s dad and Elvis Presley’s mom got together and made a baby, you’d have Dale Watson. He’s a retro, 50’s biker style crooner with a grey pompadore, well worn jeans and a tight t-shirt that shows off his physique and fully tattooed arms. And even though he’s no spring chicken (pun intended) I personally find him kinda dreamy. Particularly if I’m lucky enough to see him pull up on his big, well polished old-school motorcycle. He calls himself “too country for country” and that sounds about right. But I love his voice and he’s absolutely perfect in this well-worn but well-loved venue.
If you’d like to witness how we’re keeping it weird in Austin, here are a few tips: If you want a table, get there early and by early, I’m thinking around 3:00. Or you can bring your own chair and sit in the parking lot with all the other drunks…I mean…delightful patrons. It’s cash only so make sure you’re prepared, although with $1.50 Lone Stars and free chili dogs, this activity definitely won’t break the bank!
Ginny’s Little Long Horn Saloon
5434 Burnet Rd.
Austin, TX 78756
As my time in Vietnam came to a close, I couldn’t help but reflect a bit on what I would miss about this charming, colorful, and, if I’m honest, sometimes frustrating country. In an attempt to present a fair account, I will start with what a won’t miss. As we all know…no country is free of occasionally entertaining annoyances!
1) Yelling. Vietnam is nothing if not noisy. Many of the motorized basket boats (little fishing boats) have no muffler and roar through the water starting at 5AM. The streets teem with beeping motorbikes and bus drivers who do nothing but lay on the horn while swerving in and out of traffic. But perhaps the most amusing contributor to the noise factor are the people. Who yell. A lot. This is not hostile, angry yelling but rather, an efficient method of communication. In western cultures, you learn to approach someone when you want to speak with them. In Vietnam, you use a much more pragmatic tactic. Why waste energy getting up and walking over to a person when you could save time, give your lungs a work out, and holler at the highest decibel possible until the recipient of your message actually hears you? Most amusing is that Vietnamese is not a gentle language. It’s quite harsh sounding, actually, and I will definitely not miss the abrubt and robust communication that starts up outside my window right around 5 or 5:30 in the morning. Brian summed it up best while we were enjoying our morning pho one day. The woman next to me screamed something out to her friend standing across the street, thus jarring me out of my happy food place and Brian said….”Ahhh….the lullaby that is the Vietnamese language.”
2) Karaoke. Akin to baseball in the US or football in the UK, the national pastime of Vietnam is karaoke. Usually loud and horribly off key, the (not so) soothing sounds waft down the street wherever you are at every possible time of day. Although evenings are the preferred time to enjoy this activity, I’ve heard plenty of twanging, out of tune karaoke crooning while drinking my coffee in the early morning hours. Lately, the electricity has been out everyday for some unknown reason, but always comes on again sometime between 6 and 8 in the evening. Within 30 seconds of the electricity coming back on do you think people are turning on their TV’s? Checking their email? Making sure the fresh food in their fridge didn’t spoil? Oh no. Within 30 seconds of the electricity coming back on the quiet reprieve is broken and the sounds of karaoke fill the streets once again.
3) Feeling like an Amazon – Most Vietnamese are quite petite. And the women are super tiny. Cute as can be and absolutely wee. Finding clothes becomes an issue and if you have any insecurities about your size they are sure to reveal themselves here. The few times I looked for jeans or shorts I finally ended up pointing to my butt and say “you have big?” Because most things they handed me barely made it over my knee. While getting clothes made in Hoi An the tailor handed me a skirt to try on. I squeezed into it and he said something to the effect of “I make better” then he grabbed my hips and said “because you big here.” It’s not like I’m overweight or anything! I don’t think…. 
4) My landlord, Nha. Okay she’s hilarious but you’ve got to keep your eye on her for sure. I was warned before I moved in to make sure I kept track of my things as they tend to disappear. But it’s not the super valuable things that go. It’s the smaller items. For example, one guy that lived in the guest house had just bought a brand new stick of deodorant in Hanoi. He moved out of the guesthouse into a new place and couldn’t find it, assuming it was lost in the move. But he came by Nha’s place a couple of weeks later and saw said deodorant for sale in the little stand she has set up in front of the hotel. Hilarious! I didn’t lose anything…that I know of…but she did successfully screw me out of some money for the room cleanings. When I moved out she asked me to pay her for 5 room cleanings…but she’d only cleaned my room once! I said no and she threw a huge fit, yelling things I, luckily, couldn’t understand. I ended up paying for 3 room cleanings. Argh.
5) Electrical outages – I’m not clear on why this happens, but the electricity randomly goes out during the day and with no warning. I started to notice a pattern…off before 8AM, on after 5:30. But there were plenty of times when I was in the middle of writing an email or working on a document and bam…no more power . I’d slump in my chair in defeat. Then go rock climbing. Gotta make the most of it!
6) Spitting – this is quite common all over Asia. Men and women alike just hark one up and spit it wherever they please. Luckily, most have great aim. But I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the sound of the hark/spit combo.
What I will miss:
1) The Motorbike -Oh the joyous freedom of sailing through the hills of Cat Ba Island on a little motorbike, wind in my hair, ipod playing my favorite travel tunes while looking at giant limestone karsts covered in jungle or riding along a gorgeous coastline. Simply stunning and one of the greatest pleasures I discovered on my trip. I loved sharing the road with goats, cows and the occasional water buffalo. If I could do one thing right now, it would be going for a motorbike ride. Although I did learn quickly to keep my mouth closed at all times, lest I suck in an insect.
2) Unexpected things strapped to the back of motorbikes – Little did I know that the Vietnamese government discourages people from buying cars by taxing them at 100%. Therefore, the vast majority drive a motorbike and have to use it as if it were a car. As a result you see the craziest things strapped to the back of bike, such as: pigs, cows, chickens, an entire booth set up for a market, a family of five, a door. You name it, I’d bet I’ve seen it sailing past me on a motorbike.
3) Slo Pony – An english speaking rock climbing business on a small island in Vietnam tends to attract a remarkable set of people, both employees and customers. I will miss the morning coffee on the balcony of our guest house followed by pho at a little stand around the corner, weekly poker games, and thought provoking intellectual discussions. My delightful co-workers sent me off in style with dinner and plenty of Halidas!
4) Noble House Hotel – The Slo Pony Adventures shop is in the Noble House Hotel on the main drag in Cat Ba. There are several girls that work there and I never tired of walking in every morning and being greeted with “Caio Chi!” (They call me “Chi” because I’m older then they are. I respond with “Chaio Em”) A couple of them tried thier best to help me improve my Vietnamese pronunciation…a difficult task to say the least. These girls work hard, serving breakfast at 7AM and closing the bar around midnight. Oang, the manager, is fun and lively. On my last day she proclaimed she did not want me to leave and intended to cook a special lunch for me and the Slo Pony staff. She’s a darn good cook.
5) Hotel rooms that cost less than $10 – Don’t get me wrong…you have to look for these rooms, possibly travel in the off season, and perhaps lower your standard a bit. But…for $7, I’ve had some great rooms in Vietnam. I don’t know how long this will last, but it sure makes Vietnam one of the least expensive countries I’ve ever encountered!
6) Ca Phe Sua Nong – which translates to thick black coffee sitting atop a pile of sweetened condensed milk. Maybe not so good for you…but completely wonderful. Traditionally, they bring you a glass with the milk in the bottom and a small coffee filter sitting on top and you have to wait…as patiently as possible,…for the hot water to seep painfully slowly through the filter. It’s worth the wait. I brought a filter and Vietnamese coffee home with me but I’ve been unable to recreate my beloved Ca Phe Sua Nong. I’ll keep trying.
7) Pho – pronounced “fu”. Like “fur” without the r. The best soup I’ve ever tasted in my life. Consisting of long thin rice noodles, onions, an amazing broth, some type of meat, and fresh herbs. I’ve consumed pho ga (chicken), pho bo (beef) and pho with goat (I don’t know the vietnamese name for goat!) and they’re all delicious. The secret is in the broth for sure and the fresh herbs. I’ve found several pho places in Austin although I have yet to try one. But if you’ve got a pho place in your town, I recommend giving it a try!
8) Community – Vietnam is built on community and family. And I will truly miss the way the streets buzz with activity wherever you go. They don’t live inside their homes. They live out in the community. Their kids run around and play with one another, they sit out on the steps and talk to their neighbors, they have events and eat together during the holidays. I am so grateful I experienced this first hand by staying in one spot for a few months.
9) The Market – Traditional grocery stores like we see in the US don’t really exist in Vietnam. Sometimes you’ll see a “mart” with dry goods, like soda, coffee, cookies, crackers, etc. But they don’t sell fresh food in those venues. You go to an outdoor market for meat, fish, vegetables, spices, and just about every other thing you can imagine. The ladies in Vietnam go to the market every single day. They are packed in the wee hours of the morning and evening. (The Vietnamese get up SUPER early and then take a nap between 12 and 2) Seeing the town going to market everyday defnitely adds to the sense of community.
10) Ribs – I love this dog. I tried not to pet too many dogs while in Vietnam as they are not treated for fleas, parasites, etc. and rabies is a possibility if bitten. But I couldn’t resist a local dog that hung out near our guest house lovingly referred to as Ribs. When I first arrived at the guest house he weaseled his way close to my side and made sure his head was resting just under my hand for easy petting. And he runs up and greets everyone as they pull up on their motorbike. He also joined us for morning pho and probably received a quarter of my meat every morning! I would sneak it to him under the table. Truly a sweet dog.
11) Throwing things on the floor in restaurants – it took me a while to get used to this. But if you’re sitting at a pho place, for example, and are done with your napkin, it’s apparently considered bad form to set it on the table. It goes on the floor of course. Squeeze some lime juice into your pho? The rind goes on the floor. As a result the ground is littered with the remnants of the morning’s meals that will be swept up after everyone is done. It does require some caution when walking to your table. If you’re me, you might just slip on a lime rind and go down.
12) Copied movies - It appears that the usual copyright laws do not apply in Asia as there are a ton of places where you can buy copied DVD’s for $1 or so. You might even get a brand new released movie that someone filmed while sitting in the audience at the theater. These are particularly hilarious because you hear the audience twittering about, or perhaps the person filming the movie laughing or coughing. Other times a DVD may just stop right in the middle. So you could be totally into a flick and suddenly it goes blank or gets stuck and won’t move forward. One time while watching a movie it switched from English into German about half way through! Luckily, it eventually went back into English and, seeing as the movie was not particularly intellectual in nature, I was able to catch up fairly quickly!
13) Laundry – I’ve been spoiled. Handing off my laundry and having it come back clean (relatively speaking) and folded the next day is a true luxury. All for about a dollar a kilo. What a joy! You can have your laundry done fairly easily anywhere in Asia. No need to bring the little Woolite packets and portable clothesline. However, you may want to make sure they actually have a washing machine. I found the handwashed items to come back smelling clean, but not necessarily dirt free. Now I’m back to doing my own laundry. Woe is me.
14) Massages for $2.50 – Several gentleman wander up and down the main drag of Cat Ba offering a half hour massage, while sitting in your chair at drinks or dinner, for about 50,000 dong, which equates to $2.50. As suspect as this sounds, it’s not uncommon to see tourists getting a massage while at the dinner table. If you can block out the noise of the restaurant, it’s actually quite lovely. And ladies…if you go to the Flightless Bird Bar in Cat Ba for a drink, you can also get a manicure and pedicure for $2. Not too shabby.
In the northern region of Vietnam, Sapa is best known for the ethnic hill tribes residing in the area, many of which are still living in traditional ways. Most tourists who visit Sapa trek to a village town to witness these ancient cultures. Nearly everyone buys a three or four day tour which starts in Hanoi and takes you by overnight train to Lao Cai, then transfer by bus or van to Sapa. I figured we could work this all out on our own and didn’t need a tour. Interesting thought…kinda worked…kinda didn’t.
We heard that the train to Sapa can sell out and decided to buy our ticket ahead of time from Dalat. I called the Hanoi Backpacker’s Hostel hoping they would hold a couple of tickets for me, which they did. We arrived in Hanoi and jumped in a cab to the hostel to pick up our tickets. It seemed a bit dodgy when we arrived at the completely harried train station and had to turn over our “receipt” to a woman standing in the parking lot who handed us a “ticket” out of a cardboard box. But we went with it. The ticket was $30 one way which seemed ridiculously expensive compared to everything else in Vietnam. But again. Going with the flow.
As it turns out, we did in fact have a legitimate ticket with a car and two sleeper beds. Too bad it was a total sh-t hole with dirty sheets and the stinkiest bathroom in Vietnam (not really, but close!) . But we had nice roommates and we were on our way to Sapa. You can do anything for 10 hours, right??
Upon our arrival we hunted down a mini-van to take us on a sightly harrowing one hour drive to the town of Sapa. The winding roads provide beautiful views of the valleys along with some heart clenching, cliff hanging moments as the drivers nonchalantly weave and pass on the curves while laying on the horn. At some point this became too much for a woman two rows ahead of us who promptly started yakking into a plastic bag. Dena and I heard this strange coughing/retching sound and it took us a moment to identify the poor Vietnamese woman producing such gut wrenching groans. Luckily no one else joined her and we made it to Sapa.
The next day we made the three hour journey to Bac Ha market, famous for the Flower Hmong locals that attend the market in their traditional attire. The 3 hour drive each way was well worth the beauty of the Hmong people wandering the market for their weekly supplies. Granted, they also cater to tourists and you cannot wander through the aisles without being approached by basically ever vendor….”buy something from me, lady. Just have a look!”
The next day we trekked to a Red Dzao village with Ha, our adorable guide. Ha grew up in the village we visited but moved to Sapa in an effort to start a new life. Although we tend to romanticize the simple life of traditional villages, the reality is that in these region is a tough, hand to mouth existence. She spoke very frankly of the issues for women in these villages…that they are expected to take care of the house and kids. Period. The men have much more freedom and can go out with their friends and booze it up every once in a while, but the women are basically required to stay home at all times. No one marries for love. Marriage is seen as more of a life necessity and the woman moves in with the husband’s family and they will all sleep in one room together. They also have very little in the way of creature comforts and live in extremely basic homes, often with no indoor plumbing.
The walk to the village was stunning and we immediately picked up some “friends” who would follow us all the way to the village with the understanding that we would buy something from them at the end. We agreed that chatting with these ladies while we trekked was worth a purchase at the end of the journey, so off we went!
The ladies spoke quite good English and asked us many questions about ourselves. The first round went something like this:
Dzao woman: Are you married?
Me: No
Dzao woman: Do you have children?
Me: No
Dzao woman: Do you have boyfriend?
Me: No
Dzao woman: But how old are you?
Me: 39
Dzao woman: blank stare
Me: Smile and shrug
Dzao woman: I married at 18 and have 5 children. I’m 26. I thought you were younger then me!
Me: Wow! Thanks…and I’ll definitely buy an overpriced item that I don’t need from you at the end of the trek.
Which is exactly what I did and if I hadn’t, I’m pretty sure Dena and I would have ended up tied to a post in a field somewhere with a bunch of pigs and goats to keep us company. The Red Dzao women have perfected the art of persistence with a dash of guilt that proved quite effective. I now have two embroidered cell phone holders, if anyone would like one.
I’ve always wanted to visit Dalat. Lonely Planet describes it as “Bizarro Vietnam” leaving me feeling that a trip to Vietnam would not be complete without a tour of Dalat. Dena was luckily open to the idea and off we went. After landing at the airport, with trees outside still covered in Christmas ornaments, we boarded a bus for the half hour ride through the hills to the Central Highlands town of Dalat. After humid, rainy and cold Cat Ba, the dry, pine scented air of the hills was a welcome relief.
The only cheap hotel we could book ahead was the Villa Pink House. Upon our arrival, we were met by the extremely friendly Rot, who spoke amazing English. The room was big and clean with a view of the city but the key selling point for the Pink Villa is definitely the staff. Super friendly and they seemed to find my attempts at Vietnamese amusing!
One of the highlights of Dalat are the guided motorbike tours into the surrounding picturesque hills and villages. A group called The Easy Riders is renowned for their tours and they are EVERYWHERE in their blue jackets trying to sell you a tour. However, Rot told us about his own version of the Easy Rider tour which he promised to be less touristy with a stop at the ethnic village where he grew up. Less touristy? We’re in.
We had the option of riding on the back of a motorbike with a guide, or driving our own. My control freak self was all about driving my own motorbike and Rot gave me a zippy semi-automatic number that would take my about 120 km over the course of the day. The bike was much nicer than the one I drive in Cat Ba, so I relished the moment as we wove in and out of traffic and emerged into the open roads of the hill country, passing through villages and flower farms. Sigh.
First stop: cricket farm. Yes, the Vietnamese eat many things….really nothing goes to waste here…including crickets. And scorpians. Yikes. As you can imagine, the cricket farm is quite loud with many chirping critters in various stages of life. The coup d’ tat occurred when we were offered a fried cricket to eat ourselves. Buried in a blob of fried doughy goodness, it didn’t seem like a huge risk. So down it went. It in fact tasted like fried doughy goodness with just a little extra crunch!
Off to the local market, which I really enjoyed, because it truly had zero tourists. We learned a lot about Vietnamese culture from Rot during our time with him, including the fact that many Vietnamese in this area are Animists, meaning that they worship their ancestors, believing that their deceased kin can influence the course of their lives on earth. Rather than celebrating birthdays, they celebrate the deaths of their ancestors going back three generations. A part of the party involves the burning of fake money and other paper items that their ancestor would have liked to have during their lifetime. One portion of the market is full of paper versions of designer clothes, glasses, even little motorbikes, all for burning at the “death celebration.”
Back on the motorbikes to the silk farm. The production and weaving of silk goes back many generations in Vietnam and it’s cool to see the tradition from start to finish. The silk worm wraps himself in a silk cocoon, which has over 500 meters of silk, which is something like 1,600 feet. After the cocoon is formed, but before the silk worm dies, the pod is placed in hot water to loosen the thread. A worker finds the end of the thread and feeds it onto a machine which unravels the pod. Once empty, the pod is placed in a bin and the worm will later be removed to be fried and eaten. Again, I’m amazed at how the Vietnamese do not let anything go to waste!
Of course one is able to buy a completed silk item from the factory and I couldn’t resist another silk scarf. (I seriously have about 15 already) But one more can’t hurt.
After a quick visit to a waterfall where we got quite wet, we visited Rot’s village and met a fascinating woman who is part of one of the ethnic hill tribes of the area. She literally lives in a shack with her 5 kids. The tribes in this area are unique in that the sons must be “sold” for marriage. The parents handle the financial arrangement and love marriages are basically non-existent. This particular women fell in love with a rather wealthy young man, although she was quite poor. His parents forbade them to marry so the moved to the jungle and lived together as husband and wife. After several years they came back and lived together in the village. However, his parents did not approve the marriage and they sold him to someone else to marry. Now the woman is alone and trying to raise her 5 kids. So sad!!! She also said it’s not uncommon for a young man to marry an older woman if she is rich and can pay the parents a lot of money. One of her neighbors has a husband who is over 30 years younger than she is!
During lunch at the home of Rot’s parents, Rot gave us some valuable insight into Vietnamese culture. For example:
After Rot taught us a few Vietnamese drinking games, we headed back to the Pink Villa tired and happy! I highly recommend the hotel (if you’re looking for budget accomocations) and the tour with Rot.
The two “bizarro” things we saw in Dalat: creepy topiaries at the Flower Garden, and the Crazy House, which is a guest house built in the style of Gaudi. Both are worth checking out if you’re in Dalat!
My friend Dena arrived for a much anticipated two and a half week visit. I met her in Hanoi and we were lucky enough to jump on a cruise of Halong Bay so I could do a site visit for work. They picked us up promptly at the crack of dawn and we headed toward Halong Bay City along with a convoy of various tourist busses. We witnessed a very unfortunate cow strapped to the back of a motorbike along the way. I am always amazed at what people manage to squeeze onto a motorbike in SE Asia and of course, felt immense sympathy for the cow.
Our arrival to Halong Bay City indicated we placed ourselves squarely in the middle of touristy central. The parking lot of the pier teemed with tourists, tour guides, and piles of luggage. People were shuffling into lines to get through the Disneyland like turnstiles that permitted entry to the pier where you then boarded your boat. After a short ride on a speedboat, we arrived at a quite stunning junk and settled into our room.
We immediately parked ourselves on the top deck to catch the view as we sailed toward the bay. Of course, the scenery leaves one in awe. Our beautiful junk sailed along and joined in with several junks heading toward Surprise Cave, forming a somewhat noisy herd of boats. The area that holds the cave was so busy, we had to park the boat outside the small bay and take a speedboat in. To ensure the flock of junk boats knew of our existence and didn’t run us over, the speedboat driver occasionally turned on a siren that didn’t do much to enhance the serenity of our surroundings.
When entering a new country I try to learn at least a few words of the local language…hello, thank you, good bye, etc. Since I’m spending a few months in Vietnam where the language barrier can literally block you from getting on the right bus, ordering the right food or just generally communicating without jumping up and down and gesticulating frantically, I thought I should pick up more than my usual few words. This proved more difficult than expected.
There are six different tones in Vietnamese that dramatically change the meaning of the same written word. The tones are:
Therefore what seems like a straight forward word…”Ma”…can actually mean six wildly different things:
Ba can mean:
The probability of looking(or sounding) like an idiot is quite high. Rule number one of world travel applies: never be afraid to look stupid. It’s bound to happen. Attempting to speak Vietnamese takes it to a whole new level because not only can it be embarrassing but also offensive. When you have the potential to call a mother a horse, or worse, a grandmother a piece of trash, you’d best be on your toes.
But the most important thing is to try…that’s what I tell myself, anyway! I learned to say “excuse me”, or I thought I did, as “xin loi.” (pronounced sin loy) I’d been using this quite regularly and feeling pretty confident. Until I arrived at a hotel in Hanoi, approached the front desk, said “sin loi” and launched into a question. The guy behind the front desk looked at me quizzically and said, “you say…it’s hot.” (It was about 60 degrees outside, so this was clearly not what I meant) He patiently taught me how to say it correctly…starting low, dipping slightly then rising higher. Imagine if you were a waitress and your customer looked at you and said, “It’s hot! Check please.” Which is basically what I’d been doing for the previous month.
Not only are the different tones a challenge, but many phrases require the utterance of sounds that don’t exist in the English language. Ngan, which means “thousand” requires you to plug the back of your throat with your tongue while trying to make a deep “n” sound. I feel like Jodie Foster in the movie “Nell” every time I say it.
There is one Vietnamese word that gives me no trouble at all. Informally, Vietnamese greet each other by saying their name and then “oi!” Such as….“Heather, Oi!“ This is pronounced “oy” which very much appeals to the Jewish half of my heritage and I can only wonder if I’m saying something meaningful in Vietnamese when I proclaim my typical “oy vey!”
Some of my work at Slo Pony requires the use of basic phrases, such as “be here in 20 minutes,” which is used when I call the van driver who doesn’t speak any English. Onslo told me several times how to say it and I wrote it down phonetically. But every time I called the van driver and said “be here in 20 minutes” he spewed something out in Vietnamese and I ended up handing the phone over to Onslo without a word. This got humiliating after a time and I tired of needing help. But I kept trying and now, not only can I say “be here in 20 minutes” if he says “no, I’ll be there in 30 minutes” I can firmly say “no…be here in 20 minutes.” Communicating something even that basic feels like I’ve broken through a major barrier and I’m smiling from ear to ear when I hang up the phone!
So…thus far…my Vietnamese repertoire consists of:
Hello
Good Bye
Thank you
How are you?
Good Morning
What is your name?
My name is…
How much is this?
Where is the bathroom?
One beer please….
One coffee with sweet milk…
Be here in….
Numbers 1 – 100
Plus a few random food items…
I realize this is not a long list, but it took me two weeks of saying “how are you” everyday before anyone actually understood me. Each time I tried I got a blank stare and then a giggle and I was left wondering if I’d said “my goat would like to relieve himself on your lawn” or “how does my butt look in these jeans?” But it seems I’ve broken through that barrier as well and can at least say good morning and how are you when I enter the shop every day.
There’s a Vietnamese Proverb that says:
“If you want to gather a lot of knowledge, act as if you are ignorant.”
Seeing as I actually am quite ignorant when it comes to speaking Vietnamese, I don’t even have to put on an act, so perhaps this will translate into gaining a lot of knowledge! I certainly feel I’ve learned heaps already.
There are 5 cars on Cat Ba Island. Maybe more, but so far, I’ve counted five. In addition to these few four-wheeled oddities are a variety of tourist vans and local busses. Traditional taxis? None. Zip. Nada. Some of the roads are too narrow to support a car anyway. So getting around the island happens in two ways: on your feet or on a motorbike. The second you walk out of a guesthouse, restaurant, shop etc. you are immediately preyed upon by the Xeom (motorbike) drivers asking you if you need a lift. At first, I used their services to get around town and out to Butterfly Valley where Slo Pony has a large limestone crag developed for rock climbing. However, the xeom drivers race around like bats out of hell and I’m wasting money every time I jump on one after a good 2 minutes of negotiating the price, which gets exhausting. So I finally realized that motorbike = freedom and decided to take charge and learn how to drive one of these things myself. (Sorry, Dad)
Slo Pony owns a few bikes and lent me cute little green number that Pete patiently taught me how to drive. It’s pretty darn simple. Breaks are on the right side….right hand for front tire, right foot for back tire. The gas is controlled by the right hand turning the handle. The left foot shifts the gears…you let off the gas and kind of jam your toe forward to shift up. To shift down, I have to actually lift my foot up and shove my toe down on the back pedal to push it down. I imagine some people can do this with their heel, but not me! It’s pretty easy, however, because unlike a manual transmission car, you don’t have to down shift when slowing down. The motorbike won’t stall if you stop it in 4th gear, for example.
The most difficult part for me to learn, actually, was steering. It’s kind of like riding a bicycle…where you lean toward the turn. But when operating a motorized vehicle, I really want to turn the steering wheel. This is a very bad idea on a motorbike. It’s quite sensitive and needs very little true “turning.” It’s like the bike is somehow attached to your eyes. Wherever you look, that’s where you’re going to go. Now for someone (i.e. me) that likes to enjoy the scenery while driving an automobile (problematic in itself) this became an issue because beautiful scenery abounds in Cat Ba and every time I looked up to enjoy it I felt like I might drive off the road. Furthermore, when you’re driving a car and an obstacle appears in the road, usually you look at the obstacle and steer around it. However, when on a motorbike, if an obstacle is in the road and you stare at it, chances are good you will run right into it! You must look toward where you want to go and that’s where you’ll end up. Hmmm….interesting concept. Keep your eyes on the road. Perhaps I should apply this to my automobile driving life when I get home.
After a few weeks of practice it now feels like second nature and I’m enjoying my newfound freedom immensely! It’s kind of life changing, actually, and I wish I’d learned earlier in the trip since motorbikes are the common mode of transportation in SE Asia. And there is little that gives me more pleasure than riding through the relatively unoccupied roads of Cat Ba. Rest assured, dear parents, that I drive like a grandma and am receiving a bit of friendly ribbing because of it.
The other day Pete and Corlie zipped by me on the way to work….they really left me in the dust….and when I got to the shop I commented on his impressive speed to which he replied in his charming South African accent….”yes, Heather, I thought my vortex might actually knock you over.” I’ve gradually picked up a little bit of speed…although I’m still puttering along….and recently commented to Pete that I was feeling more comfortable and driving a bit faster and he said, (insert South African accent here) “is the wind actually blowing through your hair now?” Ha ha.
I also beep the little horn quite a bit to shoo the chickens, dogs and goats out of the road. And to let anyone walking along the narrow lanes know I’m coming. One day, the sweetest kid in the world who works at Slo Pony, Zach, was riding on the back of the bike with me and I was honking away as I rounded the corner and saw some folks walking along side the road. Zach said….”ummm…I don’t think you’re really moving fast enough that they need much warning.” He was totally serious. So I’ve established my reputation as the granny and I’m feeling pretty good about it. I’m in no hurry.
Okay, so it’s not Hawaii…but I live on an island….in Vietnam. How did that happen? What I know for sure is that I love the simplicity of it all. I live in one room that has a beautiful view of the bay. I have a job I truly enjoy. I’m able to rock climb in some of the most pristine settings on earth. I’m quite sure it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever hung my hat.
Living on a secluded island where tourists come and go could get lonely. Luckily I get along well with the group of folks I work with and hanging out with them keeps any hint of isolation at bay.
We all live next to each other in staff housing and I became a part of their morning ritual to kick off the day. Pete and Corlie, a lovely couple from South Africa, and Brian, a funny English bloke, start brewing coffee on the porch around 7:30 or 8. I join in and pretend like I’m helping when really I just wait anxiously, cup in hand. This is not a Mr. Coffee situation, but rather a unique set up consisting of a small gas burner and a variety of espresso makers. We drink the real deal.
After coffee it’s off to Pho Bo, the classic Vietnamese breakfast. “Pho” is actually pronounced “fu”. (Kind of like saying “fur”, minus the “r”) “Bo”, pronounced like bow of “bow and arrow” is beef. (although I’ve recently learned I’ve been eating goat in my Pho as well) All over Vietnam you see locals sitting at low tables in tiny chairs that I can barely fit my butt into, slurping up Pho Bo. We have a lovely Pho place adjacent to our guesthouse and often stop there before heading off to work and/or rock climbing.
After the day is done, sometimes a beer is in order and we’ll meet at a bar called the Blue Note, run by a cool guy named K. (I don’t really know how to spell his name….but that’s how it’s pronounced!) Normally, I enjoy a Halida beer. However, one evening…I’m still not quite sure why…K busted out a giant carafe of rice wine. Rice wine in Vietnam is often fermented with a variety of animals, animal parts, and/or reptiles. A very common example is the snake wine that supposedly enhances virility. On this particular evening, K treated us each to a shot of Water Buffalo Testicle rice wine.
I am still the new kid around here so I really didn’t want to decline the small(thankfully) slightly cloudy shot he placed before me, as this can be considered in insult in Vietnamese culture. So Corlie and I, the sole women in the group, gave each other an extra cheers and down the hatch it went. I was pretty sure I’d want to yak it up the second it hit my taste buds, but alas, it didn’t disgust me as much as I expected. It sort of resembled rubbing alcohol combined with…well….water buffalo testicles. I’ve never tasted anything like it before and am pretty sure I never will again, but the memory lingers…
Traveling is a blast….eye opening, exciting, and unexpected. And it requires some cash. Although I’m on a budget, no job plus basic necessities (food, shelter, beer) equals deficit. So when my friends at Slo Pony Adventures in Vietnam offered me a chance to work in their shop while learning to rock climb and live on a beautiful island, I readily agreed.
I arrived in Vietnam a week before Tet, the Vietnamese New Year, and Hanoi buzzed with people preparing for the 10 day event. It seems that Tet carries a cultural significance similar to Christmas in the States. Everyone buys an orange or cherry blossom tree for their home, grand meals are served, and people wander from house to house visiting friends and family.
I arrived in Cat Ba and made my way to the guest house where the staff of Slo Pony stays. Upon my arrival the owner of the guest house, Ngah, was putting her karaoke machine to use, singing her off-key heart out to some kind of twangy Vietnamese song. I gave my best smile to get her attention but was immediately waved off until she finished the number and could hand me my key.
The guest house is perfectly situated slightly outside Cat Ba Town in Ben Beo and boasts an absolutely stunning view of the bay.
And I’m sure you’ll be so jealous of the view from my bathroom:
What I now know about Vietnam is that people work hard here….pretty much 7 days a week with little time off. But when Tet comes around everything, and I mean EVERYTHING closes for a week to 10 days. The week of Tet just happened to be quite cold and I would have cut off an appendage to get a cup of hot coffee or tea. At some point, I actually had hunger pains because nothing was open. Slo, one of the owners, had to call someone he knew to cook something for us to eat at the shop!
Aside from the complete shut down, it was pretty cool to be in Vietnam during their most important holiday. One of Slo Pony’s Vietnamese partners invited the staff over for New Year’s dinner, which is quite a compliment and we were considered their honored guests, which means we could not help out in any way and accepted all food and drink that was given to us. This included shots of some type of vodka. I took the first one and thought I could get out of the next, but alas….no. I took the second and my glass was immediately refilled. So I learned to nurse shot number three and made it last the rest of the meal. It would be embarrassing if one of their honored guests puked in the New Year’s tree pot.
