Voices In My Head

***Hi All, so there will be more Vietnam to come, I can’t not tell you how I may have gone a little over board when having clothes made for me in Hoi An or how a woman shoved meat skewers into my mouth, vegan doesn’t translate in Vietnamese. But I thought I would get some up to date blogs posted. So stay tuned.

Voices were pounding in my head, news feed after news feed all the reporter could do was talk of death, remembrance of those we had lost and constant cut ins with presidential address updates. More images, the President speaks, and then we jump back to the morning news show and some man is jumping around with the newest dance moves, while everyone else is painfully trying to imitate him. My head was spinning; this was my introduction back into US news and television. I’d been home for a week but my assimilation process was a slow one. When I walked off the plane in Los Angeles and through customs I wanted to kiss the ground, what can I say being abroad has both negative and positive affects on your beliefs of you own country. But reading the customs sign Thank You and Welcome to the United States had me brimming with joy. When the customs agent asked, “why were you traveling in India, Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam?” I smiled and said, “I was trying to figure out my life.” Ok yes the smile held a hint of sarcasm and my response earned me a confused look, but then he said, “welcome home,” and it felt so right.

So after the tearful embrace and love from my parents and Lulu I was whisked home where I enjoyed a veggie meal and after 30 hours of travel and very little sleep I fell into bed ready to crash for what I had hopped would be about two days worth of shuteye. Lying in bed wide-awake at 3 am I realized it was going to take time to adjust. So after a week of very little interaction with the outside world I decided to watch my favorite morning news show, Good Morning America with my favorite morning news anchor, Josh Elliott, he is just so dreamy, gotta love those really tall men. Dreamy-ness aside, I was overwhelmed by the images, sounds and entertainment. As I tried to process the fact that my travels had sealed me in a bubble of protection from all things US, my protective layer was now popped. First realization, I’ve missed a lot; see, I used to have a reputation of being the entertainment queen, ask me a question about Hollywood I could tell you who, where and when. Now I was at a loss, but the weird part was I wasn’t that concerned about getting caught up. Instead I became completely overwhelmed with questions of my own unsteady future, as well as images, media reports and social media updates of injustices of the present. While abroad there were many behaviors I experienced that I had to accept because this was “their” culture. Well honey not anymore this is my culture and I was blatantly aware that everything was wrong. All of this culminated into a completely irrational battle of wills in my head. As I drove along trying to process all of these emotions and thoughts I realized I was surrounded by silence, there was no honking, no chaos, and no people. I realized that I while the chaos of the streets, sounds and experiences of South East Asia were gone, I now was facing a new chaos. While the world around me was no longer new and unknown, the chaos was now in my mind and I didn’t know if there was anyway to be free of it.

At that very thought, I realized that the chaos in my mind was all self induced. A major theme in the yoga philosophy is to gain purification through the mind with the right attitude. In yoga attitude is acceptance, and a major part of acceptance is that we need to understand and accept what we can and cannot control. I cannot change the world around me; I cannot change the way that my neighbors treat their neighbors (figuratively). All I can change and control is myself. So first things first, maybe limit my television news time. While I can’t become ignorant to what is happening in this world, I can be more particular about where I get my information from. Second, I can take a breath, relax, and maybe take another breath, and then smile, because I’m home.

 

Oh No Caught In A Scam

In Thailand, and now I’m finding Vietnam there is a saying “Same, Same.” And then occasionally the locals add in “Same, Same, but different.” It get’s confusing because you hear same, same and then you wait for the different and then you get everything mixed up so you don’t know whether it’s the same or it’s different. Well I never really knew how to use this phrase until I got on the train in Sapa to head back to Hanoi. I had paid for a roundtrip train ticket and therefore my expectation would be that the train you arrived in was the train you returned in, Same Same… but no the train I left in was Same Same only because it was a train, but it was oh so different. While I wouldn’t have said my first train was high class, now, in comparison to the return trip, I was blatantly informed that I arrived in style and was leaving in cargo. As I walked on the train I was transported to a frat house surrounded by loud, rowdy men. For some reason these men thought that it was ok to get as comfortable as possible while traveling and stripped down to their boxers. I don’t know what part of a  public sleeping train reads get as comfortable as you do in your own home, but I prayed that none of this rowdy bunch was sharing a car with me and climbed around them to get to my berth. Luckily a old Chinese man was below me and I was thankful that the party wouldn’t be continuing in our sleeper.

That was until the family of eight loaded in. They put all their bags on the top bunk and piled into to the lower bunk. Imagine this,  lying on the bed I barely fit head to toe. I tried not to stare but I was just so amazed that eight people could fit on one bed, and the fact that I didn’t realize purchasing one bed meant you could stick as many people as you wanted on it. Well 30 minutes into our journey at one of the stops two men came in indicating that they were actually the ticket holders for those beds and the family of eight left. Realizing I may be getting some sleep, I put my earphones in and played the soundtrack of Garden State on continuos loop for the rest of the night. Of course restless is the only way to describe my sleeping patterns on a train and when we pulled into the station at Hanoi at 4:30 in the morning I was just so grateful that I had called my previous hotel and paid for a half day stay so that I could get a couple of hours of sleep. Groggily I climbed down from the top bunk and walked out into the hallway. The floor was strewn with cigarette butts and playing cards. I obviously missed quite the party.

And then my amazing travel judgment seemed to vanish into thin air as I stepped off the train into the morning madness. Cab drivers huddled around the entrance just waiting to grab you as you walked off. The first guy to get my attention grabbed me and dragged me out of the station. I should have known, I’d been forewarned not only by the books but also by my hotel. There are only specific taxi services to use in Hanoi, because the rest are scammers. They have fixed their meters so that they run at a high rate. But with the chaos, yelling and lack of sleep I got into the cab with a sick feeling in my stomach.

The minute we entered the empty streets I knew I had been played, the meter read 5,000 then jumped to 35,000 and then hit 100,000. To give you some perspective my ride from the hotel to the train station three days earlier cost me a total of 24,000 dong. My heart started to race. I wasn’t going to pay that. No one was going to take advantage of me. But it was 4:30 in the morning, the streets were empty and dark and I am a woman traveling alone, I needed to be smart. When I started to see some familiar street signs I told the cab driver that the meter was broken and I wasn’t going to pay that amount, it had now reached 143,000 dong. Not speaking English but understanding that I knew what was going on he pulled over. I got out and luckily was able to get my bag from the trunk of the car. Not knowing what to do I started to walk towards my hotel. He got out and told me to pay him (this entire conversation took place in very broken English). I told him that I knew the meter was broken and that I wasn’t going to pay him that price. He countered and said fine 100,000, I told him no he couldn’t negotiate a price that I would only pay 24,000. Now you have to understand at this point I was motivated by principal. It’s one thing to try to sell your goods on the street for a price that may be a little high, it’s another thing to take advantage of a woman, or really anyone at 4:30 in the morning while they are alone. This man may have thought he was in for an easy steal, but no, you don’t mess with me because not only will I not pay you I’ll also kick you in the balls (figuratively). Ok, so no violence was resorted to, but when I threatened to call the cops I then realized that that statement carried no threat at all. I knew I needed a third party to intervene. I went to the hotel in front of me and knocked on the glass, mean while dealing with the driver who was now asking for 50,000 dong. Thank God the man on night watch heard my knock because he immediately became my interpreter. I explained the situation and he told me that the driver was saying he had driven me three kilometers. I asked what the rate per kilometer was and he said 15,000 dong. I then told him to tell the driver I would pay 45,000 dong. Needing change I asked the doorman if he could break a 100,000 and we stepped into the hotel. As I was taking the money out my hands where shaking uncontrollably, mainly from adrenaline rather than fear. But the sweet young man who had come to my aid saw my hands and said “mam everything is going to be all right.” Well all my courage broke and I burst into tears. Whether it was exhaustion or simply being completely overwhelmed I apologized for having to rely on him. He gave me the change and I walked outside and threw it into the cab and told the driver he should be ashamed of himself. While he may not have understood what I said I know I made his job a little more difficult which made me happy.

But then I realized I had put myself in a worse situation because this driver knew my hotel name. Walking back into the hotel still crying the young man told me to sit and when he returned he gave me a warm glass of water to help calm my nerves. He then apologized over and over for taxi driver’s behavior, he said this was not what the Vietnamese people want Westerns to think of their country and that he was so sorry I had to experience it. I told him that up until this point I had truly enjoyed my experience in his country. Looking at his watch he told me his shift had just ended and he wanted to walk me to my hotel to make sure I was safe. For the entire three minute walk he talked about how much I was going to enjoy Hoi An and other parts of Vietnam. His kindness was so overwhelming that any animosity that had arisen due to my scamming altercation completely faded away. Once at the hotel he wished me luck and I wanted to hug him and thank him again for his kindness, but I knew that wasn’t appropriate so I put my hands in prayer form and bowed thanking him again for his help. The kindness of strangers can change your life, something to think about the next time you see someone a little lost.

Needless to say the train ride and taxi were same, same but oh so drastically different. I learned a valuable lesson about scamming, but with some time to reflect on the mornings activities I also realized that I need to be smarter about standing up for myself. This situation could have been drastically different and what for a couple of dollars? But I was riding on a cloud of principal and it was a good lesson to learn. Most importantly in the past a situation like this may have tainted my entire view of the city or country, but I realized that this was just one man’s actions and I didn’t let it spoil my time in Hanoi. Just remember when in Hanoi only use the Mai Linh taxi company which is the green taxis or Hanoi Tourist Taxi, and know that there are plenty of copycats.

Holy Hanoi!

Vietnam, a country that fills the pages of our history books with controversy and images of death that were the first to be viewed so regularly without censorship on the nightly news. This was how my generation was exposed to this period of our history. We were taught that Vietnam was a war with many different stories and sides and no real victor in the end. Other than my history education and the fact the the country is still communist today I really had no way to gauge where I was traveling. I’d heard many people exclaim how much they had loved their visits. But I had read many blog postings of travelers who fell victim to scams and whose trips were ruined by these experiences. Originally I chose this country because of it’s mystique. The pictures of scenery and culture where so stunning and yet antique as if the culture was trapped in time. And therefore I added it to the itinerary with hopes to experience the same charm and vibrance that radiated from the photographs.

For the first time arriving at the airport I wasn’t full of travel anxiety which I had continually experienced upon every other arrival, maybe I was becoming an old pro. As we started our drive into the city the chaos of traffic settled into a familiar rhythm I have grown accustomed to in this part of the world. The life of the city blurred into my view. My guide gave me some specific advice based on the area and pointed out various landmarks on our drive to the Old Quarter. As we passed a auto accident on the road she informed me that there were about 30 deaths daily due to the traffic and drivers inability to follow road rules. The chaos of the road didn’t fully sink in until a loud thud reverberated throughout the car. Looking around to see what we had just hit I realized the passengers side mirror had collided with a pedestrian crossing the street. The driver barely glanced in his rear view mirror to make sure the pedestrian was ok, and we continued on without pause. Looking behind me with fear and shock I realized that the pedestrian wasn’t too concerned either and continued across the street. I then realized I was again in a world so unknown to what I have possibly missed the most about the United States, order. As I sat in my hotel room I knew I could stay in this air conditioned safe haven or I could enter the chaos and explore this world. Going for the ladder I entered into the streets of Hanoi cautiously looking in all directions knowing my pedestrian status meant very little.

In the maze that is the Old Quarter of Hanoi I blindly wandered the streets on a food mission. Realizing on the plane that not only was there not a vegetarian option but that the salad that accompanied the meal was covered in meat, I knew that my Vietnam food adventure may include some unintentional animal products. But as I wandered through the streets this woman came up to me. Those look like doughnut holes, you can’t go wrong there, I purchased the three different types and immediately begin to sample them all. The darker of the three was the most sweet, with a sugary center. The other two were surprising, a subtle balance between savory and sweet. It may have been hunger or relief that there wasn’t pork filling, but I was content with my first purchase.

My next food stop introduced me to the newest love of my life… Vietnamese coffee, heaven on your taste buds. Vietnam is one of the largest coffee distributors. The Vietnamese tradition is to mix the coffee with sweetened condensed milk. I ordered an ice coffee with just a small amount of milk and I was in caffeine heaven. Every sip was strong and powerful, full of bold flavors I was so happy to be in the presence of real coffee once again.

When it was time for dinner I was on a street food mission looking for something authentic. Finding a kitchen with communal tables I sat in confusion not knowing whether someone would be taking my order or just bringing me food. I found someone who spoke a little English enough to understand that I wanted the noodle veggie concoction without meat. I was brought this, Bun Cha, usually it is sliced pork served with thin rice vermicelli noodles, a heap of fresh herbs and green vegetables, in a bowl of lightly sweetened nuoc mam (fish sauce) with floating slices of pickled vegetables. My order arrived without the meat and I dug into this new find, my culinary delight cost me a grand total of two dollars.

With some food success under my belt or in my belly I felt a little braver to explore the streets further. Wanting a sweet to end my night I found a smoothie shop. I ordered a papaya fruit shake and sat on these little benches that line the streets usually indicating a restaurant space. There I rested and savored all of my day. Thinking about how far I had come from my first introduction in Delhi. It’s amazing how quickly you adapt to your surroundings, I feel like a seasoned travel pro and yet my travel time is quickly coming to an end.

During one of my days in Hanoi I ventured outside the city for a day trip to the Perfume Pagoda, an amazing complex of pagodas and Buddhist shrines built into the karst cliffs of Huong Tich Mountain. Not only was the temple in the mountains and truly spectacular, but the ride to get there consisted of a hour boat trip paddled by these woman who seemed to poses supper power and strength. Then a hike to a gondola which flew you over the valleys and mountain scape to the top. The views and colors of this country are breathtaking, bright green rice fields, lime stone rock features and brown thick rivers flood every inch of view. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On my last day I decided to devote an entire day walking around the Old Quarter of Hanoi, a intricate stream of alleyways and roadways weaving around and around. I tried to follow the Lonely Planet’s walking guide, but realized within minutes that like everything else in the Old Quarter chaos seemed to control the roads and I couldn’t distinguish one way from the other. So my walking tour turned into a eating tour, attempting to sample my way through the day I tried various street foods. The highlight was the bia hoi, Vietnamese draught beer or microwbrew. Brewed without preservatives this light bodied pilsner is meant to be consumed immediately and costs about twenty cents a glass. The beer was refreshing and there was some flavor to it so I didn’t feel as if I was drinking some light American beer. Bia Hoi shops occupy many street corners in Hanoi, again with the little plastic stools and you see then men enjoying the beer together at the end of the day. 
My day ended with another trip to my new found favorite restaurant. Knowing I can get good street food with no meat, I’ve returned to this place nightly. There is just something about the warm noodles and broth mixed with the veggies and herbs, it feels so fresh but filing at the same time.

And with that I said goodbye to the chaos of Hanoi and realized that while the streets are insanely, overly crowded, and the cars and bikes are all consuming, there is something about the energy of this city that makes you smile. Maybe it’s the fact that in the hectic mess of life they have a system that works so well.

Bangkok Chaos Conquered In Two Days

Bangkok old and new. A city of contradictions. Bangkok is a rats maze of alleyways, round-a-bouts, highways and waterways. Leaving Cambodia I had butterflies of excitement to see this familiar face!

Britta met me at the Bangkok Airport and I couldn’t contain my excitement, jumping up and down, embracing my familiar Chicago friend. We have a two week itinerary packed full of sand, sun and scuba. But we couldn’t miss out on Bangkok and therefore we dedicated two days to the city.

Our first day we dove right in and followed our map through the city, snaking our way through tight alleyways full of flowers, fish and various Thai trinkets. As our feet burned from the many steps and our stomachs grumbled with hunger we came upon a street stall pad thai stand. The perfect first meal to welcome Britta to this culinary delight.

I later realized I had become a Thailand pro as the tight alleyways, endless crowds and crazy smells didn’t overwhelm me the way they once did. But I completely forgot of the shock this culture can have on your senses and I really dragged Britta through it all.

Bangkok day one and two were a success. We managed to find every site we wanted to see and we managed to avoid every taxi, tuk-tuk and scam artist who tried to lure us in a different direction. Everyone was more then friendly and helpful, but some of their helpfulness was in hopes we would follow their scam rather then follow our path. We tried to be as kind as possible and enjoyed the friendly encounters. But Bangkok visitors beware, while their friendliness is a nice change from the cold shoulders of the western world, it tends to mean they want something. They will ask where you are from, where you are going and then tell you the temple you were planning to visit is closed. We ran into this time and again, but there is no reason to be rude or cold, we would talk to them for a bit and then use each other to get out of the situation and move on. Never did we feel threatened or uncomfortable, but it did become a old song and dance after two days and we where pros at hiding our map and not looking too lost to avoid the friendly attention.

Top three sites, worth the visit:

The Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho, an amazing statue of the Buddha the size of the entire building, ornately decorated in black and gold, one of the most amazing statues I’ve ever seen.

The Golden Mountain at Wat Saket, worth the climb, and the endless amounts of school children that surrounded us. The views are spectacular, you can see the entire city and being up so high was a nice escape from the commotion below.

Heading to similar heights just in a more modern part of town had us sipping cocktails 56 stories above the city at Sirocco. While the cost of a drink could feed you for a week on Thai street food, the view is worth a least one cocktail.

Top meals:

Wandering onto this pad thai stall in the middle of China town down one of the endless alleyways was a blessing.

Both Britta and I were hot, tired and hungry and the first food stand we found contained mixtures of dishes too foreign for us to decipher the ingredients, so when I saw pad thai I knew we were good to go. Authentic pad thai comes with four separate ingredients that you can add; sugar, crushed chilies, chilies in vinegar and peanuts. You have the ability to mix the flavors to your liking, but if your lips aren’t burning you probably didn’t do it right.

Later that night we ate at Cabbages and Condoms, a restaurant benefiting sexual education. While the meal couldn’t top that first pad thai encounter, we were very entertained by all the condom decor.

And with our aching feet, Britta and I head to the beach for some much needed R&R.