Pictures from Dancing on the Boat

Thought this was funny...last week's pictures of "making it the big time" on the cruise, enjoy!

Goooodbyeee Vietnam

That was supposed to be a play on the movie ''Good Morning Vietnam" starring Robin Williams, hope you got it. We left the beautiful beach town of Nha Trang on another overnight bus for the bustling city of Saigon, or Ho Chi Minh City. Saigon is a very impressive city, and I prefer it to the capital of Vietnam, Hanoi. It is westernized, there's a great backpacker's hangout with excellent restaurants and bars, and, there's so many ghetto Africans living there. Saigon seems to be overall more relaxed; this may sound selfish, but I felt as if everyone's livelihood and well-being in Hanoi depended on me and other tourists taking their motorbike rides, eating in their restaurants, or buying their stupid merchandise. Saigon was a city for itself. Vietnamese people went about in their own business, without hassling tourists at every opportunity that presented itself. For the first time in Vietnam, I saw Vietnamese people eating at an upscale restaurant; and it was lunch, and it was absolutely packed. It's the South Vietnamese yuppie community, I loved it.
While I find Saigon to be a better city than Hanoi, honestly, there's not much to do there. It's the kind of city I'd love to live in, but from a tourist's aspect, it's destinations are sub-par compared to Hanoi. Saigon does have the famous War Remnants Museum and the CooChi tunnels, both of which we visited. They were very informative and mildly disturbing, however, I sort of got sick of the whole Uncle Ho bullshit propaganda campaign. It was funny at first; at the museum's movie they showed clips of American Killer Heros, and referred to the Americans as the devils. I didn't mind that, however, throughout my whole experience in Vietnam, it has seemed like the people here have a blind acceptance for Uncle Ho Chi Minh as their hero because they are striving to find some national hero to cling on to. Uncle Ho does represent resistance to the external influence of the French and the Americans, selfless sacrifice for his country, a life long career of national service, as well as good health, however, the way the people look up to him, it's as if they're not looking at what he did as a leader or what his policies were, they're looking
at him as a savior and national symbol. He was leader for 20 years, and also did some pretty shitty stuff. I think it's dangerous when a country disregards policy for image, and it sort of disturbs me that a lot of young people are embracing Obama in this same way. Not that people don't agree with Obama's policies, it's just that a lot of people don't know his policies, they just know he represents change, whatever that means.
That might've been a little to controversial and heavy to put in a travel blog, so let me tell you about something else- soccer in Saigon. I further applied my learning that anywhere in the country, at 5 pm, people were playing soccer. I had asked around the city about a game, and everyone said that people do not play in the park. I'm not taking my chances, I thought, so I went to a nearby park at 5 to 5, and started looking for a game. And sure enough, it was there. There were a group of tourist policeman, sort of like security guards employed by the government, playing 3 v 3 on a small, narrow patch of patio in the middle of the park. Half the field was underwater, and the other half was covered in a thick mud. The guys were playing with what looked like a mini soccer ball, however, it was really several pieces of bamboo weaved together in a perfect sphere, with screws at several intersections. The guards took my hint of standing next to their game in the "put me in coach I'm ready to play stance"and quickly assigned me to a team. The game was very hard, the refraining from slipping and falling, the type of ball we used, however, the most difficult factor was by far, without sounding like an ass hole, distinguishing who was on my team. They all wore the same uniforms, and sort of looked the same, and I repeatedly would pass the ball to the wrong team ate, only to apologize by putting my arm in the air. I wondered if the guards thought I was not such a great player, of if they really knew what was going on. As the game progressed, guards started taking off their shirts or rolling up their pant legs, which made it much easier to see my teammates. My play improved drastically, I was playing in the middle, and was distributing passes and making connections that made me proud. We played for about an hour, and by the end, I was glad it was over. I was dripping in sweat, my legs were shot. One of the guards rolled up to the game with several iced green teas, and several players insisted on sharing sips with me. We stood there together, juggling the ball in a circle as the final moments of sunlight yielded to darkness, and the bright lights of the city surrounded the park in the distance. All the while, motorbikes and other commuters walking home from work cut through our game, nearly hitting several of us on several occasions. However, our game felt like our own world, and I was sad to leave that night. I returned the next day at the same time, and had an equally amazing experience, this time with a completely new group of players, mostly students. Soccer in Saigon will now be permanently impressed in my mind alongside certain games I've played throughout my career. Not because of the type of play, but like the others, of the people I played it with. I miss my soccer guys in Saigon, as well as my soccer guys back home.
We left Saigon and spent 3 days in the Mekong Delta, which is a massive river system with world famous floating villages and floating markets. It was great, however, I've had a small stomach ailment that won't cease to go away. I don't want to go into details, but it yielded great pain at times as well as hysterical stories which can now be added to my other bathroom follies. Sam, and the other's who I'm traveling with, ate a fish called escolar fish, or "white tuna", and suffered from a different ailment. You can read about that on wikipedia, what's funny is they had the EXACT same symptoms as described, read about it and you'll see why that's funny (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Escolar).
Well folks, I've left Vietnam and now in Cambodia. Initial reactions to Cambodia, it's a cool place, very different from Vietnam. I'm getting ready for what will probably be the most depressing day of my trip, a visit to the Killing Fields museum as well as an actual Killing Field. Go wikipedia the Khmer Rouge.
I loved my time in Vietnam, and while I stayed longer than expected and will now not be able to go to Laos or Northern Thailand, I loved every minute I spent in the country. Sometimes things don't go the way they're expected to, and that's what makes life exciting. Still having the time of my life, hope you are to.

Making It The Big Time

Pictures to follow soon, and oh are they funny. The last few days have been amazing; we've been hanging out in a small beach town called Nha Trang, several hours North of Saigon, Ho Chi Minh City to be politically correct. While the beach is beautiful, it is also monsoon season, so it rains...a lot. However, the rain did nothing to impede on our fun. Being the last day we would spend in Nha Trang, we decided to get up at 7, check out from the hotel, and sign up for an all day boat cruise. The last several days, we have heard nothing but amazing things about the cruise- free booze, free lunch, snorkeling, swimming, music, dancing and partying- all for less than 7 dollars. Well, the cruise offered all of the previously stated things, except it had a catch: we were the only Westerners on a boat of 20 middle aged-older Vietnamese people. We were a little shocked when we arrived at the port and saw our companions for the day, as most of the tours and things like boat cruises are usually occupied by Westerners with money (or at least more money than the average Vietnamese person). It was very early, very rainy, and we realized we weren't going to be spending the day with other travelers partying. So we had two choices: act like snobby tourists and duck into our shell of card games and secluded conversation, or party like crazy with the Vietnamese. Obviously, we chose the latter.

Immediately when we entered the boat, I decided to give a welcome speech which consisted of a loud "sin chao" (hello in Vietnamese) to our fellow sailors. No one acknowledged me. It takes two to play this game, I thought. So as the morning went on, we persisted in our attempt to desegregate the boat. Our first stop at the first island was spent snorkeling, an activity that I generally shy away from due to the fact that I am scared of fish. However, in the last 3 weeks, I have started to eat fish, and am desensitized to their sliminess and ugliness and thus, less scared of fish. Basically, I've grown a sack of marbles- I threw my goggles and snorkle on and jumped in. There weren't many fish in the water, mostly just garbage and small jellyfish, which I will get to later. So snorkeling was fun, and we returned to the boat determined to bring together our fellow boatgoers.

Lunch was served around a large table, in which we all toasted the Vietnamese "yo!" before devouring the fish, rice, and eggs. I noticed the atmosphere was becoming more friendly during the meal, some Vietnamese sitting next to me twice offered me some of their food. They're ready, we decided. So after lunch, as our tour guide was playing guitar and singing some lame Vietnamese song, we decided to step up our game and "make it the big time.*" Our enthusiasm was contagious*, and within minutes, the entire boat was on their feet singing and dancing. We proceeded to steal the guitar from our tour guide and started singing Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan songs, all while the Vietnamese jumped up and down clapping. And this was just the beginning. Soon after the tour guides finished playing some interactive game which I have not the slightest clue of what the objective was (I just threw up random fingers and hummed my rendition of "Oh When The Saints Come Marching In"), the wine started flowing and the spirits started growing. The DJ threw on some Mary J Blige, and the Vietnamese threw off their clothes and starting jumping in the water. While we deterred to go swimming due to the fact that last time we swam our entire bodies stung, we figured it would be an insult to our new friends if we wimped out on their fun. So, we jumped in. And, it stung like hell. I was in and out of the water within seconds, and my whole body stung, except for my testacles, or newly grown sack of marbles, which were on fire. I got on the boat screaming, and my tour guide was promptly at my side to give me a nice chunk of ice to rub with. It soothed the pain a little bit, however, the shots of wine and pineapple did a better job. It's a real scam that the boat owners have going- they charge 15,000 dong (1 dollar) to wash off with water on the boat, a service that they know every customer will need due to the fact that they take us swimming in jelly fish infested water.
Anyways, we all returned to the boat in pain, and the music continued to blare. Only this time, there was no food on the table, so it was turned into a dance floor. And this is when things got crazy. I broke out the Borat dance, the bow and arrow, and the shopping cart. Sam starting shooting the dice, and doing some weird disco walk. A young Vietnamese couple starting salsaing. Joe, a former yeshiva student, did what he claimed was a bar mitzvah dance, which resulted in a bloody knee. It continued to poor rain, but no one really cared. On that boat, we drank and danced and overcame extreme cultural and generational gaps. It was a day that none of us will soon forget.

*Both were borrowed and taught to me by my camp director Jordan Shiner, a man who epitomizes both of these lines

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words- Here's 9000+

Hey folks. Last time we left off I was writing all sentimental and analytical. Today, I'll show you some cool pictures which will hopefully tell you what I've been doing the last few days, because instead of writing I'm going to enjoy the first real sunlight I've seen in days at the beach.

About to enjoy fresh fruits on the beach.

An overcast look at the beautiful beaches of Nha Trang.

A high view of the port.

Lamping on comfortable chairs with the crew, protected from the rain. Thomas, the Austrian is on the right. Sam is in there somewhere, with Gil the Israeli. The two Danish girls who left yesterday are also on the left. I now realize the picture is sort of small and you probably can't see anyone.

The entrance to the hot springs and mud bath park.

The mudbath. Several minutes before this picture was taken, Sam poured mud on my head when I wasn't prepared. This prompted a brutal mud wrestling match, which ended with me holding Sam in a headlock, his face only inches from the tube where mud came rushing out of to fill the bath. He called mercy and we made peace.

There were 6 of us in the mud bath, until some random Vietnamese men saw all the fun we were having and tried to get involved with our jokingly homosexual fun. We left and went to the hot springs.

The gondola ride to the island of "Vinpearl," an amusement park/fantasy land similar to Disney World just off the coast of Nha Trang. The site of the 2008 Miss Universe Pageant, Vinperal looked more like an abandoned city than the pinnacle of Asian fun, which it is marketed as. The park itself was full of water slides, pools, lazy rivers, rides, arcades; basically everything except for people. It is monsoon season, which probably deters many of the Chinese and Japanese tourists who usually inhabit the park.

Riding some crazy thing that launched us high in the air and put us upside down. The whole day, especially playing video games from 10 years ago, made me feel like a little kid again. However, I learned that the one thing I am too big for is bumper cars. The first time I got hit, my knee slammed against the metal bar, and I realized my legs were way to big for small Vietnamese bumper cars.

Talk to you soon!

The Vietnamese Lifestyle

My biggest disappointment during my trip so far is that I have had a lack of interactions with the Vietnamese population, outside of potential scams, shoeing away book/opium sellers, and arguing over the equivalent of a 20 cent difference with a fruit seller. However, in the last few days, I have had a series of interactions with several people that have really opened my eyes to what Vietnamese culture really is, how they think, and what challenges their society faces. The first came with our waiter several nights ago in Hoi An, a woman named Dong. I have noticed that during meals waiters eagerly stand right next to your table if they are not occupied with another chore (which is usually the case). At first, this kind of freaked us out; we have someone who may or may not understand what we're saying eavesdropping on us. Dong was different from most waiters though- she wasn't just standing there, she was actively involved in our entire meal. Initially, we all found her presence very annoying- she was rubbing my head/back, and trying to make small talk with Sam and I. So I assumed she was another girl who flirts to try to recieve a better tip, or a further service call, or something of that nature. But as time passed, it was clear she was interested in none of the previously stated. All Dong wanted was someone to talk to, but really, someone to listen. Dong is 21 years old, and for the last 5 years, she has worked 13 hour days, with one day off a month. She originally worked at a restaurant on the beach, recieving a pay of 2 dollars a day. She was noticed by another manager, and because of her good English, she was hired at a fancier estaurant, the one we were eating at. She now earns almost 4 dollars a day, and still work 13 hour days, with still, one day off a month. She spent 2 hours at a hospital several days ago, and it cost her a weeks salary. The most amazing thing, however, was that during our entire conversation, she never once sounded as if she was looking for sympathy. She had a very restrained and cautious tone, yet also had a look of fierce rebellion. She looked like the 5 year old on a playground who is always picked on, yet continues to play every single day. As the conversation went on, several of the guys I am traveling with grew increasingly frustrated with her lack of initiative to move up in the world, as well as her presence at our table. "Go open a stand outside and make sandwiches! Every tourist will buy from you and you won't be a slave" said one of us. "You are so smart, open your own restaurant!" one of us said in a half yelling-half joking tone. Dong looked utterly perplexed- the thought of something slightly entrepreneurial seemed foreign to her. She constantly shook her head no, explaining that those types of people are different. Those types of people: the scamers, the street salesmen, the lazy motorcycle and tuk-tuk drivers, are looked at differently in society. So, rather than make something of her own, she feels forced to play into the system of slave-like labor. It disturbed me, that thoughts of individuality were completely unthinkable to Dong. However, the epitomy of this was in her explanation of the coconut. The coconut is a tip jar, located at the bar, with a sign on it that says "fund for holiday to Cambodia." Every time Dong, or any other worker gets a tip, they put the tip in the jar and it is then pooled to the other waiters. Dong claims that all her monthly tips would double her salary, yet she has never once taken a tip into her own pocket. It sounds like she charms many customers, because several days ago, a family of four met her on the beach to give her a 7 dollar tip, so it would be outside the jurisdiction of the restaurant. The guys I was traveling with were absolutely appalled and disgusted by her failure to take one tip for herself. Us capitalist pigs couldn't understand how she would want to share her income, based on her English speaking skills as well as charm, with the other workers.

As the night went on, we finished our meal and headed downstairs to shoot pool. It was late, and we were the only remaining customers in the restaurant. The heavily dominated playlist of The Beatles and Paul Simon continued to play in the background. The entire staff of mostly young waiters, bartenders, and hosts sat around silently, several looking at pictures on the internet, several resting their heads on the bar, tired after another long day's work. They watched as we played, as we drank beer, and as we laughed. And then I realized why Dong always puts her tips in the coconut to share with these people. She spends every day, 13 hours a day, every single day except for one during the month, with these people. These people are more than her co-workers, more than her friends, they are her family. Had we realized this earlier, I wonder if we would have considered stealing from our own family. I sat near the pool table thinking about all this, and wondering what the staff was thinking. I wondered if behind their seemingly empty eyes, they all eagerly awaited the chance to tell their stories like Dong had done earlier. I wondered if they dreamt about a day where they could go on their "holiday to Cambodia," a day which probably will never come, beacuse I have yet to meet a Vietnamese person who has left the country, and it is rare to meet someone who has even left their own city. Doing the same thing every day, seeing the same people, I wonder if they think about what's outside. During my trip, I will visit 9 countries, meet hundreds of different people, and experience thousands of examples of different cultures. During their life, they will stay in 1 country, with the same people, and experience the same culture.

After reading this, hopefully you will realize that not every second of every day for me is spent sitting at a beach drinking fruit shakes, or shooting pool or partying. I thought about Dong for a long time that night. But after a conversation with Joe, who had just been in India for a month, I learned that Dong has life pretty well, and that I'll be meeting a lot more people worse off than Dong in the coming months.

So, aside from this reflection, I have been spending a lot of time sitting on beautiful beaches; swimming, playing hours of beach soccer, and drinking fruit shakes. We are in a resort town called Nha Trang, and it has been mostly a torentual downpour the last several days, which has had zero effect on the crazy amount of fun we're having. We'll stay here a couple days, and then are moving South to Saigon. Today I'm going to see the largest outdoor Buddha in the world, and also go to some hot springs and mudbaths. Update on cooler and more upbeat stuff will come in the next few days. Until next time, keep having fun with whatever you're doing!

A New Sympathy for People like Billy Schrero, "This Is Life"

Hi there! Much of the last several days have been spent moving on overnight trains, overnight buses, regular buses, and walking. I started writing this post this morning, and had a considerable amount of recap of the last few days done, but after my day today, I decided that everything else was pretty irrelevant and meaningless. Some notable things from the last few days; we experienced typhoon rains in Hue and walked through knee deep water (hence the title), met some cool people, saw an old temple, and that was all great.

We arrived to Hoi An, and this is where things started to get really fun (not that I haven't been having so much fun already, the things here though are all just really fun). We arrived to Hoi An late Friday night, in the pooring rain, and decided to just stay put at the hotel we were dropped off at by the bus, even if it was pleading submission to their scam. The hotel was very nice, 5 dollars per person with elegant rooms, an elevator, but it was located a couple km from downtown Hoi An. It did have a pool though! So we swam, had the worst meal we've had so far where I was served raw chicken, and just sort of chilled out. We hadn't seen any part of Hoi An yet, and our initial reactions to the city were nothing extraordinary.

We awoke the next morning to better weather. We rented bikes from our hotel, and in our group of 4 (still with the New Yorker, an Austrian, and now one Israeli is back with us again) rode into town. At home, I am used to riding bad bikes, as I have not gotten a new one since 7th grade, and in that time span grown about 11 inches. However, I have never rode a bike like this before. I thought that having hand brakes were a sign for modernity, however, I was very wrong, as the bike was a piece of shit. Every kilometer I biked, my wheel became looser and looser, my pedals became more and more torqued, and I honestly didn't think that I would make it back to the hotel not riding a unicycle. So we laughed a lot while we biked. We got to town and ate at a place called Jean's Cafe, a small Vietnamese/French cafe which serves delicious meals at very reasonable prices. In the last 2 days, I have eaten 5 meals there. We had a chance to walk around the beautiful and small town, passing by the many tailor shops that Hoi An is known for. Everywhere we walked, me saw people we had met in Hanoi, HaLong Bay, or people that the others had met in Lao. It's such a small world when you travel.

So we spent the morning enjoying the liveliness of the town, and returned back to our hotel to check out and go to a hotel where the employees weren't all from hell. On our way back into town, we spotted two Danish girls who we had met at breakfast in Hue. The girls were very nice in conversation and we had talked about meeting up in Hoi An. Sam and I had often joked about meeting two beautiful, blonde, 18 year old girls while traveling; and we did, except that they're 19.

So after our succesful experience motorbiking in the mountains of Sapa, we thought we could handle the mid sized city of Hoi An and rented a bike for 7 dollars for 3 days. It was only the early afternoon, not that time ever matters, and we decided to spend the rest of the day at the beach with the girls and the other travelers. So we motorbiked the 15 minute ride over to the beach passing beautiful rivers, cafes, people, and hotels, with the Danish girls riding on the backs of our bikes. It was straight out of a movie- the wind, the sun, the bikes, the girls. We spent the whole day at the beach, swimming, drinking mango shakes, eating pineapple like ice cream, holding the green part as the cone, playing intense beach soccer with some friends, and just enjoying ourselves. We came back last night and had another great meal, which was followed by the short walk to a nearby bar, a backpacker's hangout. There, we drank lots of Tiger Beer, played lots of pool, and had lots of good laughs, all the while listening to really good music. After the laughs had died down, we debated moral relativism vs. moral truth with an Australian who knows more about American politics than most Americans, while drinking more Tiger Beer. The bar was great, and somehow Sam and I transitioned from the bar scene to a dreadful 30 minute walk to the other side of Hoi An, and for some weird reason ended up playing a not so playful game of hide-and-go-seek with a security guard at a friend's hotel on a balcony, in a bathroom, and under a bed for several hours. It was all really weird and really funny, and I felt like I was back in 8th grade. We returned late last night (maybe early this morning) exhausted and excited for the next day. We had another full day in Hoi An, and woke up at 8 o'clock this morning to get an early start. And today was just like yesterday, except for we had better weather, more time with the girls at the beach, and more time playing soccer. However, playing soccer today, I took a shot to the balls and was in excruciating pain for 2 minutes. I have learned that there is nothing better than a perfect day at the beach, except for a perfect night and following day. I'm now sitting in the lobby of my nice yet cheap hotel, barefoot with sand on my feet, in my boardshorts and thin shirt, eating a cake that the Austrian picked up for us on his way back from the beach. It's starting to rain the same storms again, and tonight we'll go for another great dinner and great night. The receptionist in the lobby just finished begging us in his broken English to watch the hotel and take care of anything if anyone comes in while he's out getting his dinner. We laughed, and told him we charge a low commision. He seriously wanted to know how much.

In three different and unrelated incidents today, I heard people exclaim something in the likes of "this is life." This is life, and it's so damn fun!

Pictures and an Apology

I finally bought a card reader, so I can now put up some of the cool pictures I have taken. Here are some pictures of Sapa; I don't have enough time to put up my HaLong Bay and Hanoi pictures. I also reread some of my older blog posts, and noticed how many mistakes there are! My AP English teacher, my brother and mom probably wouldn't approve of these, but every second I'm at the computer typing is a second I'm away from doing the things I'm writing about, so screw second drafts and editing!

Motorcycle Diary

We had an earlier start in Sapa today, and woke up to sunshine and a nice breeze. The fog still sits on top of the surrounding mountains, but the sun poured in this morning and it was warm enough to just wear a t-shirt. We decided to rent motorcycles and ride them to some surrounding mountain villages. The other guys I am with had all rented bikes in Lao, or Saigon, but for Sam and I, it was a first. As I have not had the most positive experience with motorbikes so far in Vietnam (motorbike traffic in the city are the most insane thing in the world), I was a bit apprehensive. I didn't learn how to ride a regular bike until I was 10, I've gotten in 2 car accidents since I was 16, and riding on the edges of cliffs didn't sound like a sure thing in the safety column. I decided to grow some nuts, and fork over the 5 dollars to rent a bike for the day. We started by riding through the city and going to a place called Baguette et Chocolate, a french restaurant which doubles as a culinary school for under privileged Vietnamese students. After finishing a delicious meal, we headed out on the road. There are a couple roads leading out of Sapa, and we heard that there were some cool villages back towards Lao Cai, where we took the train into, and headed in that direction. I don't think it really mattered which direction we went in, everywhere we looked, we were surrounded by massive green mountains, with little villages sparsely placed at lower altitudes. However, the coolest part about Sapa are the agricultural steps that are built into the hills to allow for cultivating plants and also feeding animals. Looking out from the road we rode on, it looked as if millions of these little, perfectly erected steps climbed up the mountains.


We arrived at a nearby village about 30 minutes away, had some drinks, and met an older Dutch couple who recommended we head into the valley to check out the hot springs and waterfalls. This sounded amazing. So we hopped on our bikes and rode off down the beat, narrow, dirt and rock road. We descended all the way down into the valley, another 45 minutes, and reached a rushing river that we were able to see all the way from the top. We drove around for a couple more minutes, confused, as there was no sign of waterfalls or hot springs, or anything besides piles of dirt and a river. It was going to be a long ride back, one that we definitely didn't want to make in the dark, so we decided to give up on our search for the hot springs and head back. Riding back, it occurred to me that if this had happened to me back home, if I had spent a total of 3 hours driving for something that I couldn't find, I'd be pretty pissed. But on my motorbike, passing the same terrain and people that I had passed earlier in the day, I felt super content with my day. On the road, I had little mountain children stick their tongues out at me, and I stuck it right back. I saw a naked toddler capture a chicken, and drag him through the street as his father watched proudly. I saw cows, bulls, wild pigs, all living harmoniously with each other, with the people, and with the road. I saw a young Vietnamese couple getting married at a waterfall, with an entourage of photographers, friends, and local villagers looking on in excitement. I saw the beauty of Sapa which makes it, according to some book Sam read, one of the 1000 places to visit before you die. And, I learned how to ride a motorbike!

Through my interactions in the villages, and in the touristy town of Sapa, I am still and forever will be bizared by one thing: the female villagers. All girls and women in surrounding villages wear the same, exact dress: a dark purple or black hooded sweater and dress, made of a thin fabric, with colored lacing at the forearms, shoulders, chest, and upper back. They also wear knee high socks that begin at their ankles, and either sandals or sneakers at the feet. Their faces have a different complexion than regular Vietnamese, and their most distinctive physical characteristic: they look like oompa loompas. They waddle around in packs, trying to sell purses, bracelets, occasionally opium, and like I talked about last post, sometimes other things. The most shocking thing about these girls however, is that they are absolutely brilliant. Most of them don't go to school, they wander the streets all day talking with tourists, and are extremely street smart and savy. They all speak fluent conversational English, and also very excellent Hebrew, due to the high volume of Israeli backpackers in Vietnam. I literally had to pick my jaw up off the floor the first time I heard these young girls singing "shalosh pinot, hakovah sheli". The New Yorker put it best, these girls have major "chutzpah". You ask them how old they are, they say 5 or 100, and you don't know what age they're closer to. You ask them where they live, they say just outside New York, in California. You ask them where they learned English, they call you stupid, and tell you to talk to the hand cuz the face don't wanna listen anymore. And, the most amazing thing about them, they are absolutely amazing at pool.
Last night, we spent a lot of time talking with a girl who claims she's 18, a claim which we actually believe. However, she could pass as 10, because she is so small, or could be 30, just because. It was nice to actually speak to one of these girls, all bullshit aside, and just find out what her life is really like. It was refreshing to learn about her familial values, that she went to school until 17, and that she has a real job as a tour guide, with a real income (we saw her pay for her drink). Most villagers are probably not like this one. However, we never would have known what she was really like had we not spent the time, playing pool, drinking Saigon beer and just hanging out with her like 19 year olds would do. You walk past these girls in the street, and they all look the same, same hassles and bullshit when you talk to them. However, they each have a story to tell, and when you can get it out of them, it's really refreshing.
So we didn't end up finding the hot springs, but the road we're on is pretty nice. We're about to go to a different French cafe for Breakfast, and we'll talk to people and decide what to do today. And if we have to go searching for that waterfall and hot springs again, we'll do it. And if we don't find it, we'll still have enjoyed the ride there:)

CHILLing in Sapa

After a 9 hour, sweaty, cramped train ride, the double chillness of Sapa is very refreshing. After returning to Hanoi from HaLong Bay, we decided to take an overnight train ride to Sapa, a small hill station in Northwest Vietnam, near the Chinese-Vietnam border. Even though the air conditioning was broken and I was sleeping on a small bed designed for a 5 foot Vietnamese man, I managed to sleep the night and felt refreshed when we arrived this morning at 5:30 AM. It is considerably cooler in Sapa, then in Hanoi, it is at a much higher altitude and also rains a lot. We took an hour bus ride to Sapa, and we were here. As we drove through the streets of Sapa, I thought about how nice it would be to finally be hassle free- no tuk tuk drivers, no "book" sellers, no boom-boom sellers. However, we got of the bus and saw we were wrong. Within 3 seconds of putting my backpack on, I had a pack of 12 Vietnamese surrounding me throwing business cards in my face and yelling at me to come to their hotel, pointing in every direction. It was so cool! The salesmen were aggressive yet not violently insistent, and it was comical that every salesman actually believed that we would come to their hostel over the 11 other ones. So we decided to make a little mockery of them. We all split up and started walking in circles in different directions. The Vietnamese and no clue what was going on- they didn't know who to follow, they started running from person to person, it was madness. So after a good laugh by both parties, we decided to hold an auction and find the lowest bidder. I love a buyer's market. My Israeli friend Oren climbed some steps, and held is hand high in the air and announced the commencement of the auction. Unfortunately, the Vietnamese had no clue what was going on, so we ended up touring each hostel and settled on a very pleasant one for 2 dollars a night. We spent the morning catching up on sleep and washing clothes, and got up for lunch around 12:30. After a delicious lunch, we wandered over to a pool bar and played a couple hours of pool and cards. I learned a new game called Go, which is the Chinese version of Connect 4. It is played on the horizontal plane, and it is Connect 5. We chilled all afternoon at the hall, listening to Bob Dylan and the Beatles, drinking tea, coffee, and beer. That was a lot of fun.
On our drive into the city, I spotted a large square next to a church where some food stands were set up. I decided to test the theory that I had heard on Cat Ba island, that Vietnamese people play soccer every day at 5pm. So around quarter to 5, we headed over to the church to find a game, and sure enough, it was there. There were 4 Vietnamese in a juggling circle, and when I spotted the ball I made a bee line for their corner of the courtyard. I think they saw the excitement on my face and in my sprint, and they all laughed when I joined the circle. I introduced myself, and the one called Casanova was able to speak English. He was by far the most skilled of the bunch, and had on a pair of fadidas indoor shoes and some AC Milan gear that actually made him look like a real soccer player. We soon split up into teams, me, the New Yorker, the math PHD Israeli, and a Vietnamese man called Bien. We played on a long, narrow strip of stone on one edge of the courtyard. Backpackers and Vietnamese alike gathered above the courtyard, and before long we had a small crowd of spectators, even two photographers. Casanova's team was not as skilled individually as the players from Cat Ba island, however, they moved the ball around nicely and were always in the right position on the court. Like the players on Cat Ba, they were very cautious about every tackle, and with all the fog and mist in Sapa, very careful not to fall. The light mist picked up to a gentle drizzle, and the game began to get more sloppy. We took an early lead after I used my indoor soccer experience and played a wall pass around the defender and scored. Soon after, the drizzle picked up to a rain, the tone of the game became more loose and everyone was slip sliding and laughing. The rain then turned into a torrential downpour, and the Vietnames all ran off laughing without any regard that they had just played a soccer game. Casanova came over to me, and as we shook hands under the pouring rain, both shared a gratitude to what we had just done. He told me to come back tomorrow, same time, same place, just like they do every day in Sapa.
We ran off to the closest shelter which happened to be a near by market. The market was sparsely covered by loose tarps. Stand owners were beginning to gather their items together to head home for dinner. We descended down the stairs with stands on both sides, looking in curiousity to the items for sale: eels, half sliced pigs, duck heads, deer hooves, and a bunch of other weird and indiscernible things. The rainfall mixed with the various ingredients on the ground, and created a river of blood and guck. For once, I was glad I wasn't wearing crocs.
We got back to the hostel, dried off, played some more cards and went out for dinner. After a dinner of venison and grilled duck (a total of $5!) we headed to a different pool bar and had a couple brewskis.
Overall, I had an incredible day. However, sometimes when you're traveling, you see stuff that just isn't right. So far, I've been able to deal with the begging, the scams, I even saw a mutilated corpse from a motorcycle accident on the way to HaLong Bay. But yesterday I saw something that made me pretty upset. While I have no proof it was what I think it was, seeing a small tribal girl from a neighboring village, whose job it is to come to Sapa and sell bracelets, opium, or whatever to tourists all day, going upstairs with an older man, I thought that something just wasn't right.

There's a small Vietnamese boy dressed as Spider Man sitting next to me

Thought that was pretty cool. I'll start off by telling you this is a long post, but as we begin to travel more and more, posts will become more scarce and scarce, so read me while you can. Also, there is no longer spell check on the browser because it's a poor connection, so screw spelling!Sorry it's been a couple days since our last correspondance. I should start out by saying that I have two regrets over the last two days. My first regret is that I didn't buy a waterproof camera. I decided to splurge on a really nice 10.2 megapixel 5x optical zoom camera, instead of getting a same priced camera that was both waterproof and dropproof. So, as you can imagine, while kayaking this weekend, I dropped my camera in the water. I think it might still work, and if it doesn't the warranty will cover it and Sam will take pictures, so I'm really not worried or stressed about it at all, kind of my theme to everything that I do here.

Which brings me to my second regret of this blog post, which is that I regret that anyone out there reading this post is sitting at home at a computer, rather than traveling the world with me. I remember my AP English teacher telling me that literature and writing changes people, however, I am sure that even if Shakespeare, or my favorite author Kurt Vonnegut, attempted to write about what I have done the last 3 days, they would fall miserably short and do a disservice to the reader in leading them on to believe that they actually understood in full comprehension the experience described.

To put it short, my last 3 days were freakin' sweet paradise. After spending Yom Kippur at Big Man Beer restaurant with Chabad, we decided to go on a 3 day organized tour to HaLong Bay, a coastal town which is a 3 hour drive from Hanoi. Our group, which was with other backpackers from our hostel, consisted of 20 20 something year olds, mostly from Canada and England, with a couple Americans also on board. We left the harbor mid-day Friday, and spent the afternoon relaxing on the Jolly Roger, kayaking and swimming. What one must understand, however, is what we do everyday here traveling is super relaxing, so when we're in an environment like this, I guess one could categorize as ultra relaxing. We played several games of hearts, drunk many cans of Bia Hoi and Tiger Beer, and ate delicious 7 course meals of home cooked goodness (and surprisingly, most of it was not seafood). That night on the Jolly Roger was a party of epic folk, a party which puts all the parties I have been to at various Big Ten schools to shame. The entire tour was pissed (drunk in British English) and crazy. Can't write more about that, mom's reading. The next day, the more cost conscience and less adventurous of us left HaLong Bay to return to Hanoi, and the other half of us transfered boats to where we would prepare for rock climbing. I had never rock climbed on real rock before, only at indoor gyms and at the climbing wall at Camp Horseshoe. There is a large, and from my opinion, unanticipated, difference between climbing on real rock and fake 2 dimensional rock walls. Mainly-real rock really hurts. My arms and legs look like I went into a cage with several rabid racoons with razors attached to their already sharp claws. However, with all the pain that accompanies real rock climbing, my experience climbing in HaLong Bay puts Mount Shoe or any indoor gym to shame. In fact, I shouldn't even be comparing the two. I climbed 4 walls, deciding to opt out of the near impossile 5th climb due to sheer exhaustion, overlooking white sandy beaches, crystal clear water, and varying rock formations on islands in the distance. It was really great. I descended from my 4th climb to lay under the shade of a tree in a comfortable hammock, and followed that with some beach soccer and a far swim back to the boat, my 4th swim of the day. As I got back to the boat, I thought about all my friends in high school and college studying, and I laughed. After an exciting yet tiring day, we arrived to Cat Ba island, the largest of the islands in HaLong Bay, which has a small village on it. As we arrived to our hotel, I saw a street soccer game in the square just out front. It was my calling-and as it was getting dark, I quickly put on my shoes and raced down to play. After reading How Soccer Explains the World several weeks ago, I feel like I could write a whole chapter of a book on how that game related to my experience thus far in Vietnam. This post is long enough already, so I'll just tell you that they were really quick and had incredible dribbling skills, and when they tried dribbling around me, I would push them and they would laugh. We played for nearly an hour, and afterwards I stuck around, passing the ball in the dark with several of them, speaking with eachother in small words, but mostly communicating through the ball. I'm used to relating to the Vietnamese by way of declining their offers of books...books...marijuana, or returning water bottles I've bought because I noticed their seals were already broken, or telling the 45th tuk-tuk driver in an hour that I don't want a ride. But last night was just me and some dudes kicking the ball around, just like Max, Darren, Glabby, and even JT used to do. Last night, I was the happiest man in Vietnam.

So now that I've given you a little taste of what I've been up to the last several days, maybe you'll get excited for me, or excited for yourself and decide to come to HaLong Bay. And although this has been a long post, here's three really funny things that have happened in the last couple days:

1. A Canadian friend was standing at the HaLong bay port, waiting to get on our boat, when a young Vietnamese shoe repairman approached him, examined his sandals, and stole them one by one off his foot. He handed one sandal to his friend, and they both started going at it with polish and glue and all these things, and 30 seconds later they looked brand new. Still in shock about having his shoes stolen, my friend Brad had his shoes returned to him, and the salesman quoted him a price of the Vietnamese equivalent of 35 dollars. This is freakin' Vietnam, not the Forest Bootery. Brad, who reminds me of a teddy bear type, offered him 3 dollars, to which the

man declined. Brad then flipped our and threatened to beat the shit out of him, to which the Vietnamese men ran away. That was funny.

2. I saw two women competing stand owners in the soccer square get into a WWE style fight. While everyone stood around and laughed, one woman grabbed a beer bottle, which was soon taken by an on-looker, than a chair, which was also taken, and then a broom with which she sweeped her competition in the face. The other woman just used her claws to scatch and slap. I have a funny Borat line which I won't use that would describe this whole thing very well. That was also funny.

It was a long post and I still have so much more to say, I haven't talked about the crazy Vietnamese dance guy, the gorgeous French girls, or told you anything about the drivers here. Instead of wasting another day in Hanoi we decided to get an overnight train to Sapa with a New Yorker out of law school and some Israelis, so we'll speak in the next few days. Until then, be well and remember that it's never too late to take a year off from whatever you're doing!