Ready-Set,

The journey back took longer than expected, but you can start sending me letters again.

Let me recall where I was. It was Laung Namtha. My roommate kept me up by asking me a full litany of questions about Christianity. We started with light topics like abortion, ran through the gammit with Jesus and forgiveness and ended with just a dusting on prophetic prayer. But by then it was past 1 and she had a bus to catch in the morning. So she left me, and I prayed that kind of thing about soil and truth taking root... more on that when i bring myself up to present day Easter.

The morning was nice. I don't remember anything pressing as I sat down to breakfast. The power had gone out. My laptop was being funny about charging- now we know why. I think the adapter died or got fried. Who can say. I had tea and tried to make the time pass, with nothing to do and an afternoon plane. Papaya salad. A bland pho. Then on the back of a caged truck to the airstrip. Twin engine plane sort of thing. A woman hacking behind me, setting my teeth on edge. Loud group chatting and laughing adding to the dissonance and discomfort, the slight nausea creeping in and the heat.

Touchdown.

I didn't want to bother the missionaries. So I let them be. I bravely, the 2nd time around walked out of the airport and caught a public tuk-tuk into town- the price difference being akin to something like .50c or $7. Nevermind the germans who just let me walk off and didn't even offer me a ride, and that's after I nudged them.

Anyway I met up with my Laung Prabang roomie Alex for some slight room savings, to commisserate and decompress with. I had some delicious fruit smoothies, overwalked through wats and the city heat sans my sun hat which i'd lost somewhere back wherever. I had a limp. The a/c barely worked and it got worse the 2nd night. We got a discount. I bought some paper umbrellas. I ate a stale croissant. I drank beer with my indian food. We got eaten by mosquitos. I got a skant amount of sleep. And then I was walking through the streets at dawn. I sent Alex off to get her photographs of monks on the backdrop of the Mekong Delta and i was determined to walk the 4km to the airport if I had to- but I didn't, and still paid too much or as expected, for my transport that I flagged down and at one point felt pretty sure I was being kidnapped but it led me through a neighborhood past saffron swathed holy men sitting in plastic chairs chatting with some men, your usual stray dogs, and a dissassembled manniquin stuffed under a circular picnic table, only to finally turn me back on course after dropping off cab passenger.

And then there I was in the Bangkok airport with 8+ hours to kill. I think I spent $20 on lunch and later, tea and chocolate cake. And almost came to tears as they wouldn't let me check in until 2. I read a magazine and a book, and took an hour nap on a traveler worn couch in the corner of the 3rd floor holding pen, and then on the way to taipei failed to sleep at all but watched something about marigolds and india. And then rather inocuously the next airport where i changed into another outfit and used my oliveoil infused cleansing wipes, and flossed, and took a 20minute nap in an empty waiting room themed all about the post office. After I slept a vomina pill induced 6 hours I watched two movies about skies falling and bravery. Both I felt lackluster and hardly earned sentiment, but then there it was, the plane was landing, and after hobbling to the customs line, 41 people ahead of me, my blue bag slowly chugging around, another line and a customs officer saying that I was braver than he was to have been where I have been for as long as I had been I skipped up the plank to see no one at all waiting for me as they eventually had fallen back and apparently were in a rapt conversation about the zombie apocalypse when I approached - and then they rather distractedly were like, hey! yea! welcome home! It was pretty funny.

I had really been craving fruit smoothies obviously and I found the weather freezing. But I ended up at in/out having a burger, finding my friends to be rather fatigued looking but happy to see me, Lolly detailed and cleaned, and then later balloons, a bouquet, my starbucks card with a little cash on it, and ribbon hanging here and there and everywhere. Param ran right up to me and followed me into my room. Twist fled. And marley took a bit to not be mad at me. I sat down later and played Portal which was another thing I really wanted to do with Amber. And then there it was. My first few hours back.

More on oscillating, and time warps later.
My love,
m.

 

Dear Penelope,

After a morning tromp with our german tour guide Cornelius we arrived at Crocodile lake. We saw 1. Wee. After the locals extincted the original population, Siamese crocs were introduced by some dutch eco plan as were the fish. We saw a heron eating a fish, a spider accompanied by an insect photographer, and some more birds and that was about it. Oh and butterflies. We did tell Cornelius to quit smoking as he’d just started at 20 (just now) and had time to turn back. Quit while you’re young, I said. The germans are all over eco-tourism ventures in Vietnam. They had their hands in the waterpark area up at PhongNha where locals once swam, and now had to pay to get to- and then this place, where it’s probably a good thing to have a guide- who is a volunteer and has better language skills though he knows nothing of the land at all really but the basics. So that was a bit of a downer. But what to do. We stop, we listen for monkeys, we keep walking. We ask what bird we hear, he doesn’t know. But the plant basics- ok. And hope over time the people catch on to the whole tourism = $$$ like costa rica has. You can really see the difference. They just don’t get it- though the wi-fi connections are way better here then in CenAm. Anyway after tea, and a hot trek back , we drove across the uneven slow roads into Saigon. We came back late to the chaotic street of Bieu Vien, closed and cramped and pressed out everywhere- foreigners and locals alike to eat some bbq-- The phoenix hotel mercifully had a lift since the one before it was 5 flights up and didn’t. Another early morning start where we successfully hunted and gathered our breakfast wares- of passionfruit/mango smoothie and most proud of cathy who brought back an omelet sandwich for me and a vege sandwich for herself. I was however not awake and so having to hunt down money to pay for the trips made me totally grumpy- and our plucky new guide Xuon (soan?) took a bit of my grimacing but he was never without a smile. Since he hearts his hometown that is the Mekong delta, and the mandarins his hometown is famous for. He was also never without information and a thick Vietnamese accent that was hard to wade through sometimes. But we managed and he was nice- warning us about motorbike! Motorbike! Be careful! And it’s good you should try it. Very delicious. Or that’s terrible. I hate it. He is also addicted to facebook and we are now friends. The 3 days on the delta was a haze of activity- yes there was some enjoyable moments- candy making ‘factory’ where we handled a snake? Which he said wasn’t poisonous- however, unless it was defanged could still do some pretty damage if incited. Anyway then a couple shots of banana and snake rice wine- cuz why not? Really? Uh. I can only hope they don’t starve it and it’s doing ok as a captive snake… And more watching the candy making- better. Onward to a fruit farm, and more canals, and noisy motors, and houses on stilts and boats going here and there- none of it really for show- as everyone seemed hard at work harvesting rice, pulling in fishing nets, rowing fruits to market. There was also a rice factory, that had pet hedgehogs and a jungle cat, really a small operation like the rice candy making place- bustling tourists in and out in the small not very sanitary? quarters. There was a bird ‘sanctuary’ where we, for a thrill- were put on motorbikes if we wanted [we were non-pulsed] not like those other tourists he talked about having- and taken to an outpost where there was a massive amount of egrets and cormorants- however while we were there the woman down below was carrying a dead one, probably a baby fallen from one of the trees and I think one was about to be bludgeoned for the same offense, since I don’t know she can’t return them or? That’s life on the farm or in the wilds or whatever. Not for the faint of heart. Somewhere in there was a weaver at a poor Cham village [enclave of muslims], an iridescent bird flying into the water, cats and dogs and plenty of chickens wandering about and bridges and information about bridges, the different regions, map gazing, and a couple more random temples each chaotic (one with caged birds you could set free and loads of incense, another where there were whole roasted pigs, fruits and flowers being brought in to be blessed and left and then picked up the next day? Or hours to be consumed by the owner) and so popular was this place you had to pay to get in the area by the government run temple… and a deserted venture with dinosaur replicas. As well as the fried elephant ear fish, and some delicious basa fish, and amazing taro root fried rolls, pumpkin flower fritters!- what else? More fruit. An elderly cat not doing well by the riverside. All the women in the colorful crazy printed pants. Narrow plankways half standing, creaking, decaying- on and off boats and a fish farm? Cocky young boys driving the waterways with their feet, laughing or serious lined women rowing the long oared boats down the canals. Pineapple on the floating market even though cath can’t eat them and I only wanted a piece. We had to take the whole thing. Oh and while I had the best cashews of my entire life in cat tien, I had my worst cup of coffee here in the Mekong. But quickly amended as I ran across the street to a café and got more. Oh and government mandated flags adorning each property or fines await. And now we’re on our way back. A bathroom stop, a lunch place, tipping the driver and guide and 2 days left in Saigon before Cath heads out. Update- the lunch place was a tourist trap. They charged us to use napkins! are you KIDDING ME. horrible end to a pretty solid tour even if it was a bit slapdash in it's togetherness. We did break down once? Did I mention? But my van did that in CenAm too- though cath says it's her fault. Back to that horrible restaurant we won't ever talk about! Ach! To which when asked I said, Xoan horrible. VERY BAD! Tourist-TRAP. He laughed and seemed equally horrified. But mainly in that- omg they think it's a tourist trap just like I do kind of thing. We still tipped him well but STILL. Anyway we had all this fruit to carry afterward- and our hotel is like 5 flights up- good god and we asked the woman and half paying attention to us she said they were full- then didn't tell us about breakfast or that she was shutting the doors? so thank god cath noticed the bell... and ugh travel weariness has set in. We did, after cath braved the 5 flights AGAIN to get the password right even after we verified it the first time! It was wrong. Needlesstosay we are so only staying here one night. And getting thee gone to the California Guesthouse ASAP. Where we should've been all along. Tomorrow weasel coffee, jade emperor pagoda, Saigon beer, yogurt and hopefully good attitudes. We must make stands where we can! Even if it's not that bad overall. Even if we can make due. Sometimes it's simply better mentally and emotionally to say, no, let's make a change. Who's with me! ok- xoxo, m.

Straws and Atmosphere

Sidenote:Have you noticed you've stopped labeling your posts? This stupid new interface sucks. It's been a while we've had it but there it is. I digress.

Nha-Trang which will come to be known in my mind as the most annoyingly mediocre place I've ever been to is also where I lost my ipod. Not that we can believe that by degrees I'm losing my electronic devices. May there be a hedge of protection around my camera and laptop. I lost it somewhere between getting my pack from the hotel and going to check in at the bus depot. Weirdly I still have my headset which leaves me curious as to whether I lost it or it was stolen. But I don't remember. I checked my ipod because I wanted to know what time it was. I might have detached the earbuds to do this at one point but I don't know and then put it in the sidepocketofdeath? Maybe? Whatever. It was just another kick in the back for which I will blame nha trang for, and one that I didn't discover until the next day. In addition to the bus company dropping me off a full hour before schedule in Saigon. A good thing if it weren't 530am on a grubby dark street with taxis pestering me. A guy a bunk over was complaining nonstop and I think I overheard him say we were suppose to stop at one point and we didn't. Needless to say not happy- my optimism or frugalness for the bus backfiring/succeeding? I found a taxi which did eventually rip me off - but I yelled at him for it because I knew he was taking me around. I wasn't exactly sure of my location but I knew I wasn't far from home as I shook the map at him. What an ass! I consoled myself by saying it was less than $3. Really. But still. I succeeded by trying, as my fortune cookie mind tells me. It still makes it all rather tiresome.

So down an alley I went with my pack and saw the California flag and a bench labeled with California on it. And peace washed over me. A  man asked if i needed help to which I grumbled no because wouldn't he just try to rob me or annoy me? I don't know. I did after a few minutes try to get in and some sleepy attendant/maid? I don't know- I said I had a room but was really early and I was going to just sleep in the chair and not bother her but then someone else appeared and she said I should go up to my room, and to check in later, and pointed where I could make breakfast and drink coffee on the way up. I collapsed on the bed with door and windows left flung open and woke sometime later with the light streaming in and a chorus of birds- as if I was in some place not the city.    
I'm in a courtyard surrounded by caged birds at the California guesthouse, in a quiet alleyway. The staff who look like they're all in their pajamas, spend most of their days gambling on the floor of a kitchen off reception- it is Tet afterall. It wasn't until the day after that I finally checked in and that's after I mentioned that uh, shouldn't I? So I am left largely to myself. I even sent my laundry out by dumping it into a basket and off it went. I keep forgetting I'm checking out of this place tomorrow. But thankfully I've scouted the location of the next place for Cath and me which in comparison is super high energy and CITY to the idyllic lazy quiet respite I've had despite the smokers room smell.

That day I was out and about, wandering around and eating and drinking way too much of everything. I really don't know if I succeeded in doing anything else- God, was that just yesterday? I feel I've already been here an eternity. I bought 2 t-shirts. The pants I wanted almost fit if I wanted sausage casing pants. And a cockroach that had been on my backpack crawled on me and luckily I felt something and shuffled it off instinctively before I realized. Cath says that it was encounter with local wildlife. Shudder. Nevermind let's not talk about it.   

Today was more of the same. I talked myself out of yoga and I still went over budget foodwise. LP and I have totally different categorizations of $,$$,$$$. Really the places they consider $ are $$ places. And the one place I've been to that's genuinely been on the cheap charged me .50c for rice. And that was just annoying. Everyone's trying to make a buck here and they cut at you here in there by degrees. But what do you do - I suppose I could start arguing over a literal cent, like that Czech couple did in dong hoi, and yet?

So anyway this place doesn't have the atmosphere of Hanoi by any degree. It's definitely a place in which finding your neighborhood is important because it's going to heavily define what you think of the place. Cath was wise to have us stay in 3 places- which initially I thought tiresome- but now I think genius. What I had set out to say at the beginning before I began my ramble was my latest obsession with tableaus- Entering into scenes you think are beautiful and perfect and then making a conscious decision on whether or not to be a part of the stage or just to gaze at it. Today for instance as I sat eating really delicious grilled fish with salt and chili sauce and a blackcurrent iced tea (all for $9.76. Expensive. I know you think I'm crazy. And yet it is comparatively. I almost balked at that price in Hanoi and I got double the food.) All that to say the walls were brick with lovely wood décor in an old colonial building, and the light was streaming in over the white table cloths. And I felt I wanted to look at it more than be a part of it- I set up my room in jeju in much the same way. Are places designed for you to look at them or enjoy being in them? Or as Heidi and Nina wonder- did they consider the garment from every angle?

Otherwise the only thing left to mention is that I've taken a disliking for straws. Mainly I think because it made my iced coffees disappear too fast- and I find here to be throwing them on the table with a pretty marked attitude of someone who will disavow them for life- especially in the lands of nofreerefills. I hope its not a permanent shift. Oh, and twice I've shaken hands with guys who've wanted something. One was friendly enough, and I walked away he had that look like he was surprised it hadn't worked. Or that I'd actually said no. I didn't want his postcards even if he had lost a leg, both legs? I don't know. And I felt my hand in his hand for a while after. Has that happened to you before? Where a handshake or something stays with you? The 2nd time was here. He wouldn't let go of my hand- this guy wanting to offer me a $1 ride on his motorbike. One of these days I'll say yes, but he had a hard bullying grip. I still said no. And he released it, before I started punching him in the face, which granted it would've take a while, as Im more likely to drag him off with me but still- His energy or impression in my hand lasted for blocks. It was so weird. I had to pray it off me.

So that's it. Its night. I'm over budget again. I haven't bought tickets to anywhere and tomorrow I can only imagine what i'll talk myself into or out of as the case might be. A massage? Maybe. Rock climbing- I could wait until cathy gets here. A show? $25... Get a garment made? ride the bus? Find that savory crepe place? At least the simplest things are an adventure here. I bought a pen. Hurrah! It was only 8.000. I ordered good coffee 2x. I didn't get ripped off. I got ripped off. I ordered X. It was good. I ordered Y. It was ok. I went here I went there. I walked and I walked. I managed to...

so goodnight from Saigon @ the trung nguyen coffee house by the fish tank having drank coffee #1 thought. this morning I drank #2 discovery, which was if not thee best pretty close, and having last night eaten pho until my lips were burning, for you pen, for you. Oh and futurewise- I think I lost 2 hours going to Vietnam- so I'm probably closer than I was before- like 11hours maybe ahead? Uh...

later days,
m.  

Dear Me, [silence]

So, though yes, I do have lots of bells and whistles to distract me, I wake up every morning to see if my friend has blogged and she hasn't. I can only conclude she isn't talking to me. Which is easy to conclude since she isn't in fact, in any form whatsoever communicating with me- not even making chipper or sarcastic comments about my photos. I can't say I've gotten a strong psychic message from her either. The only thing I know about her life is that her husband may or may not have bought a van down by the river. Which while seeming inconsequential, I know, is a story... a thing i've missed. But how can that be helped, ... i wonder? Sure its only been like 9-10 days or something but then I couldve died yesterday so sometimes silence matters. But we all make choices. There are loads of people I haven't talked to in 9 days. Except for Cathy of course who manages to talk to me everyotherdayatleast.

And we all could've died for that matter, yesterday. Or tomorrow even. So if I had my last letter would've been to Bruckner about young werther, and what would that say but that I died alone in a foreign land, indebted and adventuring. Though I did hear a chilling story about a backpacker being brought to the farmstay since they were the only ones in the area that spoke english, and they thought he was ill, and then gravely ill. But by then it was too late- becausethe entire time, he didn't think he was that bad. But delirious people who've had a fever for 4 days shouldn't be trusted. Nor should they be without medical attention. And they should tell people. And they got him to a hospital in da nang, and then they were encouraging the staff to get him to Saigon, but by then his legs had turned black and he'd died. This was on top of a story from a guy who had just recovered from Dengue Fever. Believe me when I got bitten by a flying ant the other day I was watching the spot carefully. And all the premonitions of earlier days was hovering around me.

Well anyway enough poor me. I'm in Vietnam after all in this horrible tourist town called NhaTrang, surrounded by grim looking russian tourists, which I hadn't even wanted to come to in the first place. Except I'm here. Because I'm avoiding the middle. I guess I have plenty to do, I saw in a vision of it that it was an octopus. And then I looked up the symbolic meaning of the creatures- it indicated "difficulty"... maybe difficulty extricating myself from this lacklusterfuckingtown. I'm in a bad mood though...

To be fair, on my transport to the trainstation we almost got into a headoncollision with a mac truck-think chunky army green tonka truck. I finally exclaimed WATCH OUT! The driver barely came out of his stupor [unconsciousness] to meander over in time as the mac truck began to grow concerned and flashed his lights. Thomas, fellow passanger and escaper of death, thanked me later for helping to save our lives. [saying that was the most dangerous moment he's had traveling the world in the entire year and he's been to india!] He kept an eye on the driver after that and I didn't even remember how it managed to escape my lips except we were all thinking surely he's going to get out of the way in time. Surely he's not ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL. The mac truck driver thought so too, otherwise I think he would've engaged his horn too. We were all too unbelieving. Until I wasn't. Just before my parents were underwhelmed by my skyping them from vietnam, exclaiming oh, it's green, and hold on, let me take this call. So it's a good thing I'm alive to be able to complain about this all retrospectively otherwise that would've been our mutual last memories of each other.

Meanwhile a mostly pleasant overnight train to NhaTrang where I survived on a quarter bottle of water, almonds and a cliffbar. And I passed out to WillyWonka&theChocolateFactory. I woke up a bit too heavy from sleep and the revolving bottom bunks of people. I don't know why I was so tired except the sway of the train maybe. So I woke up blurry with an idea of finding my way to the hotel, which didn't seem so far away, with a quick glance of the map and the idyllic countryside whisking away behind me. I felt secure but on exit, I'm getting harassed by a guy who wants me to come to his hotel, which is all while i'm trying to orient myself anyway, and then after he gives up this woman completely high on something pretends to lean over and peer at my map like she's going to help me. I think I have everything protected so I don't really think about it. Until I realize maybe 1minute too late that my phone was upforgrabs in the sidepocket. And now it's gone. Most likely by crazymcshiftyfingers.

Resisting the urge to return to the trainstation and get on the nexttrainoutofthisfuckingtown I persevere. I find a cafe and with the 12minutes remaining of battery power on laptop, and thankfully free wi-fi! I take a picture with my camera of the googlmap from the cafe to the hotel all the while nursing my irritation with some v.coffee. Genius I think. A message pops up from my mother saying Marley is purring on her shoulder, to which I reply I would prefer that as my phone just got pickpocketed- to which she replies "smileyface". Seriously. I know self, I can't believe it either. [ :) ] I mean I know I can at times be melodramatic, but I was being on this occasion quite literal. Luckily I had loaded most of my photos onto my computer. And I'll try not to reach for my phone for everyfoodshot i want to take. I'll just try to forget you ever existed. But it's hard. It's going to take time. I have my life at least. I have that. Not like that other poor backpacker. *shudder* *@(*&!*

Anyway I got to this hotel which seemed a bit bleak. I didn't feel like staying here one night let alone one minute. But it seemed ok to give myself a break and then find something else the next day- which is what i'm doing, and paying more because seriously, i'm over it, so i'm moving digs- and then booking a bus out of this place. Ok self- be patient! Because of tet it's going to take a few days- day 1 DONE. 2 more to go. I can only hope tomorrow to get the bus booked and a mudbath scheduled and then hunker down for the day where everythingisclosed and then get the hell out of here. Except i think i heard mui ne is overrun with russians too- I'm not sure why i'm loathing that population except so far- the flavor of this icecream is not to my taste. And i found myself so much more in love with hanoi- which was unexpected really. So I dont know what to do. But berate the fact that things are written in russian too, as well as the fake croissants and that weird fake mint that ruined my perfectly good mango shake. The coffee is good at least. And just for kicks i'll just assume my money won't run out and the money transfers from my job will go through and everything is going to be just fine. And aren't all travels incomplete without hiccups and neardeathexperiences? So you're on schedule self. You're doing just fine. It's all going to be OK.

-.




 

Dear Bruckner,

Ah yes. Poor young Werther. I admit I had my hopes up when I saw his sleeping back and tattooed shoulder. But then i saw his shoes. And I called the whole thing off. Perhaps years from now we'll meet across a crowded room and something will pass between us in a glance. What was. What could have been. A momentary constriction of the heart muscle, a breath. And then nothing.

Meanwhile, I got the fried fish, sitting conspicuously alone on the last night. Left with my choices and the way the red peppers floated in the sauce, the combination of noodle, fish and greens together. I went back to the Hanoi Rendezvous hotel, my bags already packed, and I waited. And though, despite what the hotel name suggests, it's all a matter of timing isn't it? I keep waiting to be met by something somewhere- but maybe just being in a space brings a change you can't conceive. Even if it's not the one you want.

...I took a taxi out into the night and joined a host of other backpackers in various states of looking around to board a jostling railcart in a faded mint green compartment one can only associate with prisons, mental wards and communist regimes... though i found the pillows to be quite a lovely retro touch. I was living large in a 4berth soft sleeper. car 9. space 25.  I met a plucky couple who quit their jobs and were on a four month adventure. We chatted. And I was sad we werent travelling to the same place. I shared my lychees with them and they shared their coconut crackers... and i tried to insure sleep with 2 benedryl and some yogic breathing. It worked.

Even as I try and continue to write this- but the young german has followed me from Hanoi. Walked right into the doors of my farmstay- which frankly is more of a hip outpost than farm. And now that I understand this, I like it much better. I spent my first day in and out of sleep staring out into a would be magical space of brilliant green rice paddies with egrets flying around looking idyllic, and women in those iconic conical  hats. Still a vague sense of detachment while the hammock swayed. Of having to sink back into a place and be here and already missing Hanoi. Even meeting the two original explorers of the largest cave in the world didn't shake me until hours after it was too late.

And the threads woven around me in korea trying to break off of me bit by bit. I can't tell how. The next day though I went on the Paradise Cave tour. It made my heart race faster. It made me giddy that such a thing existed. It was glorious. I then got to pretend to be an explorer, bathing in the waters of an unknown spring source- brilliant turqouise...talking vietnam, politics and the war, kayaking to the darkcave, wading and swimming 40m through a cavern with headlamps, trudging through sand, stepping between basalt passages with sharp edges- wonderous and awing- and then tramping through the softest mud, slick against the walls and cooled perfectly like being in continuous passages of milk chocolate truffles in various states of being made. And then out again. Rum and soup awaiting us.

After that I had planned to contemplate my detachment to the ricepaddy field but i was swayed to take a trip to the dragons mouth cave, and bicycle wheel rutted mud roads 7km (though just the first part was really difficult and the rest smooth flanked by children and their staccato HELLO!), to take a rickety looking tourist boat to what seemed like some sort of journey to the center of the earth replete with 70's lighting, and then back to eat an entire boned fillet of some sort of river fish. It was delicious. Anyway I'm back now after all of that and all of this- and the young werther has left as there wasn't any room at the inn. I've eaten a fruit salad and some pho ga. Drank a grain tea and am fighting sleep. Tomorrow- my last full day- i'll try and tackle the ricepaddy again. To see what's out there in a place where I thought certain the volcano lay.

my love,
m.

(ps. its still pen's turn)