My Son

Besides shopping today (I couldn’t resist getting an outfit made to order and some silk slippers), I went out to My Son (50k away), billed as the most important Cham site in Vietnam. I have to say that it was a little disappointing, given what I have seen so recently in Cambodia. Unfortunately, the site was hit by a few bombs during the American war and several towers are beyond repair.

Tomorrow I head to Non Nuoc beach, just south of China Beach outside of Da Nang. This is the one spot that it may be possible to surf on my trip. There is a surf shop that reports that they expect it to be 3-5 feet, but who knows what that means here. I am not sure what my internet situation will be, since I will be at a pretty basic place. If you don’t hear from me for a few days, you will know that we are getting some swell (otherwise I will be moving on pretty quickly to Hue).

I vacillate between being pleased and being disappointed. An old woman in the market rips me off and then 2 friendly kids on bikes stop me just to practice their English (whispering to themselves, trying to get the phrases right). The incessant catcalls are countered by the graciousness of the shop owner/seamstress where I ordered my ao dai (traditional Vietnamese outfit of long tunic, slit up the side paired with long silk pants). I try to keep positive, but sometimes I feel down to think that I will always be cheated unless I am extra diligent and firm.

City of Lights

The morning light revealed Hoi An to be an architectural gem – the Vietnam of picture books, containing streets lined with 18th and 19th century wood shop houses and laced with colorful silk lanterns. I confess: I thought much of Vietnam looked like Hoi An (from those same picture books or maybe from tourism ads), but in reality Hoi An is unique (from what I have seen so far), and in 1999 was made a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Cars are banned from much of the center (but apparently motorbikes are still allowed, since they swarm like flies, as elsewhere). Hoi An (formerly known as Faifo) was an important trading port and brought European as well as Chinese and Japanese merchants to its shores and into its population. There are many Chinese “assembly halls” that were used by the large Chinese population for meetings, worship and schools, and these have been preserved (as have many of the shop houses). Needless to say, there is a tremendous Chinese influence in the town. Of course, all of this quaintness has attracted the notice of tourists, and there are plenty (including a lot of Vietnamese tourists, it seems). I wouldn’t mind so much except that the local merchants do pester any foreign looking person incessantly, with the cry of “Hey! You buy something?!” Sometimes it is just “Hey!” Or “Hey you!” Or sometimes, more gracious: “Madame, you buy something?” I have also been offered a $1 manicure from numerous ladies who try to drag me off, wondering how I can resist such an offer. There have been more cries of “Motobike??” than I can count, but none overly persistent, unlike the guy at the bus station in Quy Nhon who kept yelling at me and waiving money in my face to show how little it would cost to ride with him, despite my repeated replies of NO (in Vietnamese nonetheless). Oh, if they just knew how I despise the legions of motorbikes and their shrill horns! Ironically, there is a new model of motorbike out named “Elizabeth”!! (Thao, the girl on the bus, told me).

Rested Up

After 3 nights in Quy Nhon, I again braved the MaiLinh minibus, this time to Hoi An. The driver was much more sane, and actually knew how to remove his foot from the gas pedal and apply the brake. Still, we had one close call as we came up right behind a motorcycle, which braked suddenly, sending us careening into oncoming traffic to avoid it. The driver quickly corrected and we all re-took our seats. Everyone was quiet for a while after that. We stopped after 4 hours (!) in Tam Ky, to have dinner, at which point I was befriended by a very nice Vietnamese girl who had been sitting behind me on the minibus, Thao, who was anxious to practice her English. She studies on her own, at night, and she has made great progress. Her goal is to go to America, get a Master’s Degree, and return to Vietnam. She was very insistent on buying me dinner (and I was glad to have her advise me as to what was put in front of me!) She also interpreted for me with the driver and found another person going to my destination (about 30k from where the bus let off) to share the expense of a taxi. I have to say that this is the most outright kindness I have encountered since Saigon (and there wasn’t much before that), and it is welcome at this point in my travels, as I am feeling a bit of the aloneness (despite spending the last 24 hours in Quy Nhon in the company of a very talkative Australian lady).

Even though it was dark when I arrived in Hoi An, it appears to me to be more peaceful. My second floor room looks out over some tiled-roof houses below, and instead of the incessant beeping and exhaust of motorbikes (which are, indeed, the bane of my existence), I hear the sounds of people making dinner and smell the wafting incense from Buddhist altars.

Note: the photos above show the bamboo boats I mentioned in my prior post. You can see that the ocean is much calmed and the weather has improved tremendously!

Happy New Year!

I arrived today in Quy Nhon, up the coast from Nha Trang a couple hundred kilometers. Of course, the day I leave, the sun came out, but it stayed sunny the whole way and I am enjoying fine weather. On the way I noticed a couple left points that were surfable, and there is swell in the water (see photo from last night in Nha Trang showing the pounding shore break!) The minivan in which I was riding was careening way too fast down the road to get any photos, and as it was, I could barely stay sitting vertically as we slammed back and forth on the twisty road. In the small bay where I am staying there is another left point with treacherous rocks (I would not recommend it for surfing). Tonight I watched a man in one of the round bamboo boats paddling out to reach a fishing boat off shore, timing his paddling like we surfers do to avoid the crush of that whomping left, but without the ability to duck dive. I felt for him! Especially since the mode of paddling seems horribly ineffective. There is but one oar fastened to the front center of the boat, and the boater works it back and forth across the front of the boat. I have no idea how this even works.

On the beach I saw a little sandpiper, the same as we have in Encinitas and I told him I knew his brother (talking to myself, I must be getting lonely!). I then saw a plastic wrapper and said I knew its brother too (actually, the plastic bags and wrappers far outnumbered the birds and shells on the beach).

Last night, I got out of bed shortly before midnight (as I had been advised by the locals to do), and went out to the street to see everyone. Yes, everyone was out. Motorbike helmets as far as the eye could see. Motorbikes were just parked in the street and on the sidewalks, and people just waited for the strike of midnight and for the fireworks to start (people tend to just wear their helmets around instead of worrying about stashing them somewhere, and I have become so accustomed to the accessory, that it took me awhile to recognize how odd the crowd was, all helmeted up). Promptly at midnight, a spectacular 20 minute fireworks show started, and people rang in the new year with ooh’s and aw’s. As soon as it was over, I sprinted to my hotel, since lingering would surely mean being run over by a motorbike. The photo shows lit-up cartoon like oxen in front of a hotel. 2009 is the year of the Ox.

Plastic Revisited

Today I set out for the islands around Nha Trang with a boat and a guide. The goal was snorkeling, but the weather was foul and I didn’t last too long in the 65 degree-water (it is colder by the outer islands). The photo shows a local fisherman in a round bamboo boat - something unique to Vietnam I think - used for getting to and from shore.

After my brief dip in the ocean, my guide took me to a floating fishing village where people live in huts lashed to fish pens out on the water. It was very pleasant until I saw a woman toss a plastic ramen soup wrapper and an empty can of condensed milk straight into the ocean. Apparently, she has been disposing of her trash this way for 30 years. I am afraid this attitude – “so long as it goes away from ME” – is far too common here, based on what the locals tell me and what I have seen (see prior blog entry “A Plastic World”). So we do our beach cleanups and ban plastic bags in California, and nitpick every piece of litter, and on the other side of the world, people are deliberately adding plastic to the ocean. I nearly feel silly as carefully peel the plastic cellophane from the cap of my water bottle and find a trash bin for it, since everyone just discards things like that onto the ground. But how do I come to a country and preach environmental principles to people who are eking out a living anyway they can?

A Land of Contrasts

Hmmmm, what can I say about Nha Trang? It is a city of contrasts: in front of the Novotel, a street vendor sells corn on the cob and sweet potatoes baked on a wood fired brazier; in the budget hotel quarter, where a decent room is under $10 USD per night, meals are 3x the price as elsewhere in the city; running alongside the azure South China Sea, the main road of Tran Phu buzzes with motorbikes, taxis and trucks, horns blaring. A wrinkled old man in pale yellow cotton pajamas and a pink motorbike helmet shuffles down the street. Curiously, no one goes into the sea. I have gathered that this is the off-season (it is winter after all), and the legendary hordes of Vietnamese tourists won’t materialize for another couple months when the scorching heat of summer (the last hot, dry blast before the monsoon) finally arrives. I myself have only dunked my feet in the ocean, being put off by the choppy waters and pounding shorebreak.

I had a quick look at the Po Nagar Cham towers – a temple complex built by the Cham people between the seventh and twelfth centuries. Simply put, the Cham people occupied much of what is now central Vietnam, the north being occupied by the Chinese (for over 1,000 years), and the south belonging to the Khmer empire. The Cham people were of Indian heritage and brought Hinduism with them, as they did in Cambodia. You can see the similarities in the temples.
I had first tried to get to the towers by bicycle, but got lost in the maze of streets around the city center and ended up terrified as I pedaled around, trying not to get run over. I don’t think I can adequately describe the way people drive here in Vietnam. I think it is best summed up as a free-for-all: just try to avoid anything in front of you, but don’t bother looking out for anything behind you (this includes when pulling onto a busy street, or turning abruptly in front of someone). Go in any direction you want; stop for a traffic light if you feel like it. I have taken to riding in taxis – not the most economical mode of transport, but the easiest on my nerves.

I am staying in Nha Trang through Tet (January 26), in the hope of seeing a traditional celebration. There seems to be a lot of preparation, with thousands of meter-high pots of yellow chrysanthemums gracing the streets, public buildings and hotel entrances. But the most important aspect of the beginning of the new year (as relayed to me by a local), is the opportunity for new beginnings; a new round of luck is dealt. People clean their houses and their clothes and make special foods. It is thought that the first person you see (or who comes into your house) in the new year will determine your luck – a happy person means good luck, a sad or unhappy person brings with them bad luck for the year.

South China Sea

After 3 days on the back of motorcycle, taking in the beautiful countryside of the south and central highlands, I landed in Nha Trang, on the coast and had my first look at the South China Sea. Nha Trang is a hugely popular resort town, catering to both Vietnamese and foreign tourists. I imagine this is what Waikiki looked like 50 years ago. Some mid-rise hotels, but no glitz. The weather feels like Hawaii – mid-70’s and a nice breeze. I plan to stay for a few days here and celebrate Tet (New Year). I have been on the move since Siem Reap, and it will be good to rest.