I am sweaty and smelly and gross and, in two hours, will be getting on a bus to make the 12 1/2-hour trip to Hue from Ninh Binh. Oops.
Hopefully I don't sit really close to someone.
Today, as well as yesterday, was spent exploring Ninh Binh, a small town about 2 1/2-hours away from Hanoi. I arrived yesterday afternoon and, after some wandering, was able to find a guesthouse complete with dorm rooms. Three hours later I was on a bike to Tam Coc, an area described as "Halong Bay in the rice paddies" by Lonely Planet. Miraculously, I found it without any problems, and was able to bike all around the area avoiding both tourists and tourist-hounds. It was, of course, beautiful, and the perfect time of the day to visit. The sun was low in the sky, not only making the landscape more beautiful, but also making it considerably cooler. I biked around all the little dirt roads and watched rice farmers working at the feet of limestone cliffs.
While the landscape was picturesque, my level of physical comfort left much to be desired. It seems that my legs were not designed for Vietnamese transportation (I had trouble on the bus as well), and my knees were practically making it up to my chin as I rode along the (extremely) bumpy roads.
My butt also did not fair well and I found myself often standing up on the pedals, just to give it and my knees a rest. This probably made me look even MORE like a giant woman (I haven't seen any Vietnamese stand up on their bikes), and got me quite a few stares.
Still, the calming, peaceful feeling of being on my own and being both away from the city and other tourists inspired me to stay another day in Ninh Binh and explore the countryside again today. I started at 8 am this morning and biked all around the nearby farms and villages, often stopping for photos (or just to give my butt a rest), and receiving many "hellos" from the village children (it seems that is the one English word everyone knows). At about 11, I needed some proper food, and biked through a street with little cafes everywhere. At each one, I would say "Toi an chay" ("I am a vegetarian"). At first, this statement would draw blank looks. These were then quickly followed by a sad shake of the head and a point down the street. I was getting very hungry and a bit worried I wouldn't be able to eat.
Finally, I stopped at one restaurant in which my "Toy an chay" was met by enthusiastic nods. No one there spoke a word of English, and the menu was in Vietnamese, but the nice old lady sat next to me and pointed to various items on the menu, saying "chay", "chay", "chay"... To each one, I enthusiastically nodded. I then enthusiastically pointed to the cheapest dish she had suggested. She responded with equal enthusiasm. We were about to enthusiastically agree on the dish, when she (enthusiastically) pointed to the stuffed goat in the entryway and said, "chay"!! Suddenly, my enthusiasm was lost.
One thing you should know about Vietnamese is that it is a tonal language. The same "word", said with different tones, can mean about 5 different things. Of course, to my untrained ear, they all sound the exact same. In both Thailand and Vietnam I have often tried over and over to say a phrase or the name of a destination and only drawn blank looks. When I pull out a map and point to where I want to go, the person I am speaking to exclaims, "Oh!" and then says what, to me, sounds exactly like what I've just been saying for the past 10 minutes (to be fair, my spanish-speaking friends have commented on this problem when they speak English as well). Apparently the word for "goat" and the word for "vegetarian" in Vietnamese are very similar... and I just happened to be in a restaurant that specialized in goat dishes (in addition to the stuffed goat in the entryway, there were also goat heads on the walls... those probably should have been a dead giveaway).
I didn't know what else to do, so I said (rather desperately), "Toy an chay!" again in my very best Vietnamese accent. A different woman seemed to understand. She responded with "Kom (no)..." and pointed to the goat. I agreed and followed with "Kom *insert chicken noise*", "Kom *insert cow noise*", etc. I was probably making a scene at this point, but woman # 2 nodded enthusiastically and starting yelling things in Vietnamese to everyone else. It seems that the message was made clear, because about 10 minutes later (after they allowed me to wash my hands, face, and feet out back) I was presented with a rice/corn porridge... not the best dish I've had here, but definitely vegetarian.
After resting a bit, I continued on my way. As time went on and it approached 1, the weather started to get very very hot. My energy was getting low, as well as my water (I had brought nearly 2 liters) and the front tire of my bike. Life started to get a bit more difficult and so I turned back, stopping again at a local temple for some rest in the shade.
I arrived at my guesthouse at 3:30, thoroughly exhausted, but happy with how the day had went. I have also managed to make myself even more freakish and suspect to, not only get the usual points and whispers one receives in a foreign country, but also start collecting giggles as well. Though I put sunscreen on in the morning, in biking around I somehow managed to worsen my already strange tan lines. I now have distinct "reverse raccoon"-circles around my eyes from my overly large sunglasses, and the skin between my knuckles is white from being curled under the bike's handles. Of course, I have also deepened my more conventional tan lines so that my upper and lower shoulder (ie where the t-shirt sleeves stop when you roll them up) look like they belong to two different races and I have ridiculously white "v's" on my feet.
Maybe it doesn't sound like it, but I really enjoyed today. It was really really nice to get a bit off the beaten track. I wasn't able to shower because I had already checked out of the guesthouse, but I hope I don't smell too terrible (I did a sponge-bath in the sink). I can't believe I have less than 10 days in Asia!
See you soon : ).
It get the distinct impression that, the longer and travel, and the more infrequently my posts here become, so also do they become more boring. I could blame it on things like slow internet and lack of time, but really I'm just unmotivated.
So I apologize for the dry posts, and will try to step it up a bit (key word = try... so don't judge).
As many of you know (yay Facebook!) I arrived in Hanoi, Vietnam on 2 November. I will spend only one full day in the city, but have learned from experience that I enjoy rural areas more anyway. Still, that one day was nice. I visited historical sites/museums and just wandered around, taking in the sights and sounds. In contrast to Thailand (where there are more Starbucks than in New Zealand), Vietnam feels distinctly foreign, and I like that about it. Though there are many foreigners around, I still find that I stick out, and have had a few (Vietnamese) men predictably profess their love to me. While I could get by speaking my American-version of Thai, I have trouble saying "thank-you" in Vietnamese. Still, it's much easier than either Ghana or India, and so I'm not too worried.
There are two things one has two worry about in Hanoi: traffic, and the scary basket ladies. I had been warned that the traffic would be ridiculous, and it is. Street signs mean little, and buses and motorbikes and cars and bicycles and about every other vehicle you can imagine whiz around with little regard to what direction they should be driving, or what side of the road they should be driving on. As Lonely Planet says, might means right, and if you're a 18-wheeler you can pretty much do whatever you want, while we lowly pedestrians must watch our steps carefully. When I first arrived, I thought to myself, "It's MUCH better than India", and on the surface it is. There are breaks in traffic and I get the distinct impression that most people TRY to follow the laws as long as they are semi-convenient to them. The main difference to the pedestrian, however, is that, in contrast to India, Vietnam has no usable sidewalks. What would normally be pedestrian space is littered with motorbikes and street vendors and made totally un-walkable. One must walk along the side of the road, listening to the horns blasting around, and just hope that people will weave around one's backside. My personal strategy is to walk calmly and cooly, giving the impression that not only do I belong in the middle of the street, I have more of a right to be there than anyone else. The theory is that motorists, like dogs, can smell fear, and as soon as your eyes widen at the site of oncoming headlights, or your steps quicken to dodge the spinning wheels, they know you are powerless.
I haven't died yet!
The second thing to worry about in Hanoi is the scary basket ladies (not the technical term). These are women who walk around the streets selling food from two baskets suspending from a pole they carry on the shoulders. They look harmless enough, and when one first sees them, one gets the impression that one should purchase food from them because they look culturey and authentic. That is all part of their game. Avoid them at all costs. I have had few dealings with these women, but they have taught me that the scary basket ladies are the pushiest, craftiest, most-prone-to-cheating-est, people I have ever come across. They do things like charge 4x's the fair price for a banana and then snatch it out of your hand when you try to bargain. They grab your arm and won't let go, and they slam their baskets and cone-hats on you for a picture that they then try to charge 20 USD for. The worst part is that they are everywhere. I spent the past few days in Halong Bay on a boat, and woke (sweaty and panting) in the mornings to the sounds of their little rowboats hitting our own, and their little voices yelling, "Buy something?! Buy something?!" Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Anyways, like I said, I only spent one day in Hanoi. As touched upon, the past few days were spent on a tour of Halong Bay, a natural wonder near Hanoi that is reminiscent (though much much larger) of Doubtful Sound (Fiordland, New Zealand... where I went kayaking). We stayed on a "junk" boat and spent our days relaxing in the sun, kayaking, swimming, and even did a bit of trekking. Much of the time, we just watched the beautiful scenery go by. There are thousands of huge limestone cliffs jutting out of the emerald waters, and small, brightly colored, fishing villages are scattered around their bases. While kayaking, tiny schools of fish would jump out of the water around us, and we saw monkeys (I think Japanese Macaques? The grey ones with the red faces and bottoms) climbing around the cliffs. It was beautiful In addition to the scenery, the accommodation was absolutely the best I have had my entire time abroad, and the food was plentiful and delicious. For the second time while traveling (apart from my first 3 months living in Wellington), I had my own room. For the first time, I had my own bathroom. It was glorious!
Tomorrow morning I am off to Ninh Binh where I will do more naturey things. I will then continue on south. I hope that the recent typhoon in central Vietnam will not affect my travels, but am prepared to change them if I need to.
Only 10 days left! I can't believe it!
Last night I got back from a hilltribe trek with Pooh's Eco-Trekking company. Chiang Mai is the most popular place to do such things, and most treks are extremely touristy. Lonely Planet warns that one should ask a litany of questions before committing to any tour. Particularly of concern is the treatment of the hilltribe villages being visited. Some have basically been converted into tourist theme parks with multiple groups of people visiting each day. The people in these villages often get no say in how they are treated, and some receive little or no compensation.
Still, doing a trek up to a hilltribe village was THE thing I wanted to do in Thailand... I just wanted to do it right. After talking to a few companies, I settled on Pooh's. They took the time to answer all of my questions in a satisfactory way, and were able to convince me that, in this case, the "eco" label might actually be deserved. The price was significantly higher than the other treks, but I took the chance that you "get what you pay for."
I could not be any happier with my decision and cannot stop raving about the trip. The higher price was due to the fact that we trekked about 160 km out of Chiang Mai city (where only Pooh's goes), had small groups (2-6, whereas 6-12 is the standard number with other companies... we were only a group of 3, me and 2 Australian sisters), and a portion of the money goes to purchase school supplies for the village school. Wit, our guide, was Karen (though a different group than the Karen we visited), and so was familiar with the culture and language.
The first day of trekking was definitely the easiest. We left Chiang Mai at around 7 am and, after arriving in the area we would be hiking, hiked for about 3 hours up and down the mountain. The trail we followed is one used by the hilltribe people to walk from one village to the other, and is not exactly well-groomed. It was full of little prickly plants (my poor arms!) but the pace was easy. Upon arriving in the village where we would be staying (there are 3 very close to one another that Pooh's rotates between, families are inter-mixed between the 3, but the villages are segregated by religion - animism, Buddhism, and Christianity... all 3 have close relations with each other), we were immediately welcomed with open arms. Everyone we met was lovely - full of laughs and smiles, and jokes about our height. The homes were made of bamboo with a thatched roof, and though there had been a lot of changes in the past 10 years (a telephone, access to roads, apparently about 3 televisions scattered around, younger generations such as Wit who learn Thai and English, a toilet...), it was still very traditional. Wit cooked our meal (with more than enough to share) over the fire, and we all ate together. After dinner we sat around and listened to one of the men play a sort-of guitar and drank rice-whiskey together. At around 9, everyone went to bed (on the floor).
We were woken up the second day by a confused rooster, crowing long before the sun came up (and directly under the house). Soon after, "Mama" lit the fire (it must have been about 4:30 in the morning)... we didn't get up until close to 6. After breakfast and goodbyes, we set off again - this time with two more Karan men. As Wit explained, he is not of the older generation and does not know all the old ways. The two other men were there not only to help with the trekking, but also to cut appropriate bamboo that they would later use to make utensils for cooking and eating. I could not believe how useful these men (Long and Joe - incorrect spellings) were. Not only did they find the bamboo, they carried it to our camp and then came back to help us with river crossings, etc. They whittled us bamboo chopsticks for lunch (at the riverside) and bamboo knives, spoons, cups, and trays for dinner. They also made little bamboo contraptions to boil water, cook rice, cook egg, and just about everything else. It was amazing! Miranda and Pip (the two Australians) and I decided that they were pretty much the most useful people we had ever met. At one point, Long was simultaneously carrying two rucksacks above his head, smoking a cigarette (tobacco grown by the locals and wrapped in a banana leaf), and helping Pip cross the river. I think he is superman. That evening, we bathed in the river and slept in a little jungle hut. Our meal was one of the best I've had, and included a delicious dish made from a fern Wit had picked that afternoon.
Our third and final day was all about trekking. The day before had been relatively difficult (lots of river crossings and scrambling over rocks), but we had been informed that the last day would be much harder. I was a bit worried because I had gotten relatively stressed climbing over all of the rocks (I'm not good with things that require balance), but the third day ended up being my favorite. We basically waded up the river, as well as along the bank - climbing UP rocks rather than walking across them (I am much better at that sort of thing). The end of the adventurey part (we finished with a well-groomed trek up the mountain) led us through a bat cave. The guys had little head lamps as well as lit torches (made from bunched shoots our hillside men had found in the jungle that morning), and we went up the thigh-high rushing water in the pitch black, with little crabs and bats to keep us company. It was so much fun.
All together, it was an amazing trip that did not feel voyeristic nor exploitive, and gave us a little bit of adventure. Our guides (particularly Wit) were amazing - patient and helpful the whole way through. One of the Australian girls had been sick a few days before and had some trouble with the steep hill climbs. Wit's motto was, "Slowly slowly and smile" and checked that we were "okay" about every 10 minutes. They also had a great sense of humor - necessary for that type of trip. It was one of the coolest things I've ever done.
And so this evening I am off again to Bangkok, where I will arrive at around 3 am and go directly to the airport. I fly to Vietnam tomorrow morning, and am pretty excited. Thailand has been a breeze to travel, but I know that Vietnam will be more difficult. Wish me luck!
Quote from a Thai man:
"You are the Snow White of Thailand"
hahahahahahaha
Well, I've officially been in Thailand for 8 days now. It feels like longer, but maybe that's because I haven't done loads. Still, I've managed to do a few exciting things in the past week.
A couple days ago I went east from Bangkok to a small town called Pak Chong. From there I was able to take a guided tour of Khao Yai National Park - a World Heritage Site. Because it was a long weekend it was pretty busy, but we got to go trekking through the jungle (literally) and see loads of pig-tailed macauques and, more excitingly, gibbons. No elephants unfortunately! We also climbed around a few waterfalls. They were too large to swim around (during the dry season it's open for swimming), but the mist felt amazing.
The next day I did a little tour of the region (included in the Khao Yai part) around the area. It was just me with my guide! We started out at some springs (again... wonderfully refreshing) and then visited a Buddhist temple built literally inside of a cave. After, at dusk, we watched about 3 million bats leave their cave to feed. It was amazing to watch - like a movie. They were flipping and swirling across the sky, and almost looked like a cyclone.
After Pak Chong I took a bus back to Bangkok, picked up my Vietnam Visa (yay!!) and jumped on a train to Chiang Mai. I must say, I've spent a fair amount of time in Bangkok now, and I am quite impressed with my navigating-abilities. You can get around the city by taxi, Skytrain (like the Chicago "L" but quieter and more efficient and reliable), tuk tuk, subway, bus, and even water taxi. I seem to be better with the Skytrain and subway than I ever was in Chicago. I'd like to think that speaks to my new maturity and sense of direction, but really things are probably just better marked.
So now I'm in Chiang Mai. The train ride was relatively comfortable, but it jostled a lot so I didn't get much sleep. Again, the Thais have a pretty good system. During the day the seats are set up so that there are two facing eachother with a removable table in between. At night attendants convert the two seats into a bed and then pull a top bunk down from the ceiling. It sucks for the attendants (it takes awhile because they make each bed as well), but is pretty nifty for the passengers.
I was lucky on the train to meet some other travelers - two Dutch girls and an American guy from Miami (though he just spent the last 2 years in the Israeli army - crazy!). All 3 were really interesting to talk to, and Ben (the American) and I were able to meet up yesterday to explore the city. It was nice to have a bit of company.
Tomorrow I'm off on a 3-day, 2-night hilltribe trek through the jungle. In addition to walking around (as one does while trekking), we will be staying overnight in a hilltribe village, learning to cook a bit, etc. This is what I really wanted to do when I came to Thailand, so I'm really excited!
I know how terrible I am at geography, so I thought this might help...

Also...

I have officially left New Zealand, and am currently residing in a hostel in Bangkok, Thailand.
The last few days in Wellington were filled with errands and friends. Sunday in particular was quite busy. I had Yum Cha (I'm sorry about the spelling) with lovely St Johnsites, coffee with Crina, and dinner at St. Johns with Pablo (I can't stay away from the place it seems). To St. Johns' credit, it was probably the nicest dinner I've ever had... though my fine-dining experiences are admittedly limited. It also helped that Adam and the kitchen treated Pablo and me like VIP's (fair enough, haha). We were given the nicest table, the kitchen made up a special entree trio not listed on the menu, and we were even given complimentary dessert wine (I've never had dessert wine before, but I really liked it... that surprised me because I prefer dry as opposed to medium). To top it all off, at the end of the evening, just as we were finishing desserts, some fireworks started going off on the harbor, just outside our window. I have no idea what they were for (when I asked Adam his response was, predictably, "Because you're leaving, my dear"), but it couldn't have been more perfect.
The next morning, Pablo and I jumped on a bus to Auckland (he's going home to Chile). I was unsure about our decision to take the bus rather than spending an extra $50 for a plane ticket, but I'm glad we did. The bus took us through all of the places that I visited with Stray when I first arrived in New Zealand - places that I haven't returned to since first arriving in Wellington. The trip doesn't actually seem that long ago, and as we passed through the towns and cities, memories came flooding back. The girl who visited those areas one year ago is very different than the one writing now. I didn't realize how different until that day.
All in all, it was an appropriate (if not also cliche) way to end the trip. We even ended up staying in the same hostel I spent my first few nights in Auckland in. Just as before, I did little more in the city than complete a few errands and hang out around the hostel, but I didn't mind.
And now, I continue to move backwards through the last year. I am in Thailand again, though that is where the parallel ends. This time I will be spending nearly a month in the area, with plans to visit Vietnam as well. I arrived in Bangkok last night and had a remarkably unnotable transfer to my hostel... one of the few times something hasn't gotten terribly wrong within the first hour of arriving in a new place : ). Today I am mostly just recovering and getting a feel for the country. I've already forgotten how to say "vegetarian" in Thai, and so had chicken soup for dinner... but it was delicious. Tomorrow I'm heading over to Khao Yai National Park for some waterfall-viewing and trekking, then it's north to Chiang Mai and a bit more trekking. After that I'm pretty much up in the air, though I'm leaning towards flying to Hanoi, Vietnam at that time.
I'll keep you posted, but I'm not promising photographs until after I get back.
Cheers!
"Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos."
— Charles M. Schulz
After weeks of looking forward to leaving, I don't actually want to.
I guess it's not quite that straightforward.
The thing is, I do want SOME of this to be over. I don't want to be working 50+ hours a week. I want to live in a nice apartment. I want to be healthy again - to eat fresh veggies and wholegrains, cut down on my caffeine intake, get my 8-hours a night, and pick up that exercising habit again. I want a haircut and some new clothes. I want a hairdryer.
The past few weeks I've been going through all the necessary steps to leave. I've notified employers, sorted out taxes, cancelled bank accounts, and purchased plane tickets. On Thursday I shipped my laptop home, Friday my winter clothes and books (cost me a fortune). I'm invited half of Wellington (sincerely invited!!) to stay at my flat in the US.
Every day I say "goodbye" to someone different.
I've said goodbye to Wellington once before, I've had another leaving night at St. Johns. That goodbye was bittersweet, it brought the necessary self-reflection, I was sad to be leaving, but not really. Of course, part of my dismissiveness was based upon the fact that I knew I would be visiting. I knew I would be back in Wellington in a few months time, and so didn't really need to worry every leaving. Mostly, however, Wellington had only ever been a transient home - a place to save some money, make a few friends, and then leave. Wellington, if you recall, represented a "growing up", but largely sad and stressful period of my life. While it became a sort of home, it was definitely a temporary one. I was never meant to come back.
Seven months later I'm in the same city, living within a mile of my old flats, working at the same job (my last day at Ticketek was last week), and hanging out with largely the same people. However, the things I'm staying goodbye to are totally different. Friday night was my leaving night at St. Johns. This time it was for real. My previous leaving night was fun, but relatively uneventful. I went out with just a handful of people - a few coworkers and random friends. People said, "thanks" and "keep in touch," but beyond getting a lot of free alcohol, no fuss was made. Everyone had always been nice and welcoming to me at the bar, but I had never been much more than the "new girl." Summer at St. Johns brings quite a few new employees, most of whom will be heading off again in a few months time. I was just another temp who hadn't even made too much of an effort to hang out with my coworkers outside of work.
This time around, all the staff went out and I was given a big card and a beautiful greenstone necklace blessed by a coworker's mother (she's Maori). Chef Kieran baked me a cake (he said it would probably be average because he had never baked a carrot cake before... it was most definitely the most moist, delicious carrot cake I have ever eaten). I ran around the bar hyperactively hugging people and taking pictures. We all went out for a fun, if also slightly drunken and ridiculous, night out. I got home at 6:30 am. I was with good friends.
The same story is true for the rest of my life in Wellington. This year was supposed to be about traveling, meeting new people and doing new things... and it was. But at some point, the midst of all that transience, I put down some roots. I made good friends, became part of a community, adopted a family, fell in love. None of those things were part of the plan.
This leaving is different than any other I have had. After highschool and Knox my friends and I were a bit sad, but we know that we'd see each other again. At most, my US friends live on the other side of the country. In this instance they're on the other side of the world. While at home we have Christmases and Thanksgivings and Homecomings and eventually class reunions, it is unlikely that I will be back in New Zealand in the near future. I can take the train to Knox most anytime, but scrounging up $1500 for a plane ticket is a little bit more difficult. I keep saying that if New Zealand weren't so far away from everything I'd consider staying.
It's for real this time and I'm not sure how I'll react when I actually get on that plane. I'm excited for traveling and for home and life-long friends and family and new adventures in Seattle (I GOT A FLAT IN SEATTLE!!!), but the older I get the more spread out my friends become. The more spread out my homes become.
"I hate goodbyes. I know what I need. I need more hellos."
In just 3 short weeks I will be on a plane to Thailand. I have my bus ticket to Auckland, my plane ticket to Thailand, and I will soon be purchasing a plane ticket from LA to Minneapolis, a few nights in some hostels, and probably a couple plane tickets to and from Vietnam. Whee!!!
I do apologize for the belated update... though that seems to be a common theme in many of my posts nowadays. To be honest, there isn't really all that much to say. I've been working quite a bit lately at both Ticketek and St Johns. I feel like my employment-status this past year has been a bit like an eating disorder. I binge for a few months, working 50+ hours a week, and then purge by quitting my job(s) and traveling for a few months more... arriving back to "home" (wherever that happens to be at the time) and starting the process all over again. This lifestyle has been beginning to get to me as my travels begin to draw to a close, and I'm starting to look forward to a "real" life... one with a bit of stability and one that includes an intact bathroom ceiling and 40-hour work-weeks.
Oh dearest Christy--like many of the people who read your blog (rather, probably like every single one of them) there... read more
on Moving Backwards