FINALLY the rest of the Vietnam pictures.

Where to buy your fake masterpieces.

As most of you longtime readers will recall, Rodman, Reid & I went to Vietnam & Taiwan last February. I got some of the pictures up, then just got caught up in all the many other photos I generate constantly. Now here are the rest, at last. Go to my photo hosting site & they are under “trips & vacations” & “foreign trips,” “Vietnam part 2.” Also available at the photo link under the “blogroll” on the side of this page. No password needed for this gallery. We’re hoping to go back in late Feb this year & get further up in the country. It’s incredible there; an amazing place to see, & a joy to see it thru my young son’s eyes. Enjoy!

Scooter people.

I have severe scooter lust. I’ve always wanted a scooter. And since our return, oh my god, I am absolutely tormented! You would not believe the scooters in Vietnam & Taiwan!

We got to the airport in Vietnam & passed thru a lite customs gate & into the heat. Ah…the heat felt wonderful! Hot, humid, just the kind of thing to warm the bones after a long, chill winter in Seattle. We had arranged beforehand with the hotel to send someone to pick us up. A nice enough fellow & his companion held up a sign, we found them, & they loaded us into a late model van-ish thing. They didn’t speak much english. Once we got on the road, I ripped my camera from the bag & started taking pictures, overcome by the traffic. Because it was all scooters! Hundreds of them on all sides. And let me say here that the lanes painted on the roads, in both Vietnam & Taiwan, are mere formalities, & one is not to trouble oneself with such details in the daily realities of life.

Driving in Vietnam is accomplished by honking. All cars everywhere honk their horns continuously. I don’t mean they lean on them, I mean beep, beep, beep…on & on. It doesn’t seem to be a rude thing, as it certainly would be here. Instead it’s a polite, “I’m coming thru, by the way, if you feel like moving.” And they do. The scooters drift about on the road like leaves caught in an eddy. Somehow they all flow together, passing within inches of each other & the car, & all is fine. And everyone is on a scooter. Families of 4 & 5 people. Dad will drive, small child will sit in front of him & rest hands on the dash of the bike, at the back will be mom, with the baby smooshed between here & the dad. And all with face masks. I actually don’t get the face mask think. They aren’t sealed at the edges, so I’m not sure how much good they do. But the masks are a culture all their own. I saw a toddler whose mask had a nose & whiskers to look like a puppy. There were florals, all colors to match your outfit, & the special kid ones. Who knew? No one walking thru downtown Seattle wears a mask to filter toxins. Would we be better off if we did?

The scooters would sweep around corners like a wave. People would want to turn & they would just drift out in traffic, trusting that people would go around them. And they would. And that’s the think about living in a culture where people all drive scooters – you can drive differently. You don’t need nearly as much clearance, & you are so maneuverable. And another thing – they don’t zip about. No one ever screamed by me on a scooter. People seem to drive nearly everywhere at exactly the same slow, putt putt speed. This makes it easy to anticipate what’s going to happen around you. I never saw an accident.

The whole car/scooter ratio was something I had not anticipated at all. Where we were in Vietnam, in the big city of Saigon & in the smaller city of Hoi Ann, I would estimate that 95% of the people drive scooters. I mean that. You could count on one hand the number of cars you’d see in a day, while thousands of people putted by you on their scooters. And another funny thing which I realized after a couple of days – there are no old cars. Where are the beaters? The rusty pickups? The old clunkers held together with wire & duct tape? Somewhere else, that’s for damned sure. All the few cars we saw were in like new shape. From our 4th floor hotel balcony, we could look out onto the courtyard of the house across the alley, owned by the hotel owner. In the living room/courtyard was a very nice car, looking mercedes-ish but some European brand. When times were slow at the hotel, we’d see the hotel attendant go over there & swish off the car with a feather duster. Wow.

Taiwan, also was home to many lucky scooter owners, tho there were plenty more cars. Also, Taiwan had actual traffic lights, & sometimes people even stopped for them.

Scooters make such a lot of good sense for these cultures. Many of their roads, espcially in the cites, which were built ages ago, have networks of narrow alleys. Also no parking. Scooters allow these people to easily navigate the crowded & squirrly streets, park anywhere they like, & also do so with little fuel usage.

And now I am back in Seattle, teased by the gorgeously designed scooters being put out by Vespa & similar companies. And of late I of course think of the enormous gas mileage a scooter gets. The Subaru is nice but it costs 50 bucks to fill up. A bit harsh, in so much as many of my bustlings about involve only me, or only me & Reid. I know we have been marketed to as a car culture, but now with the cities filling up, & the price of gas so pathetically high (we KNOW you’re doing this to us, George, you driveling, money-sucking, gnat brain) it seems like more people would buy scooters. It’d be nice if scooter dealers would get the word that using less gas is good for the planet, & maybe bring the prices down somewhere closer to reasonable, instead of trying to extract every possible dollar from what they view as a select population with a disposable income. Scooters are seen here in the US as an indulgence, not a way of life, as they are in these other countries. A shame, really. One of those takes money to save money situations.

First photo installment.

You know, when I went away, I envisioned sitting down every couple of days & doing a “man on the ground” kind of entry, full of “oh you would not believe what we saw today,” or “we had the most amazing meal.” But in fact, despite what the guidebooks said, internet access was tough to find, very nearly as scarce as my spare time. And now the immediacy has passed. I’m back home, I have all the hot water I want, & near the front of my mind is, as always, the realization that I have not one clue in this world of how to make Reid’s closet more useful. So I think we’ll be doing more generalized articles.

It’s Thursday March 6 here. I picked Rodman up at the airport last night. He seems to be doing well, tho I expect he will power down later in the day. I am rather mentally negligible just now; the jet lag is zombiefy-ing me every day midday. Also I crave mindless consumption of food. I feel like I’ve been turned into a squirrel at the beginning of winter. All I want to do is eat & sleep. But I’m persevering, with the aid of our good friend, caffeine. 14 hour difference is a big shift.

So in lieu of some snappy writing, unproduceable in so much as my brain is on an unscheduled hiatus, I offer up some pix for your entertainment. Just look to the right of this post under “blogroll” & click on the link for “Vietnam photos.” Some are pretty to look at, & some are simply informational, records of how things were, interesting for their content if not their aesthetic appeal. I am currently working on 1776 pictures, but fear not – there will be heavy editing. It’s just so darned easy to bracket with a dslr.

Ta for now – Susan

Vietnam part one – in which I need my Wimpy pants (original post Feb 10, 2008)

By the way if the writing is less than normal standard, I am absolutely jamming this out so do forgive. My free time, any remaining energy, & time on the

hotel computers are hard to come by simultaneously. I only have time now because our driver, to go see the ruins of My Son, is mysteriously very late, tho we are assured by the staff that he is somewhere in his car, heading in this direction. Rodman is nearby, chatting with other tourists. I can hear his laughter from time to time. Reid is also near, I hear that little piping voice. Also he comes & hangs on me, updating me on his boredom status. Now we’re up to really, really, really, really, really bored.

We are in Hoi An. That’s in central Vietnam, on the coast. First off, let me say that the food is wonderful. I think Rodman & I have both gained 5 pounds already. The Wimpy pants reference is to the old Popeye cartoons. The character named Wimpy, a fat man, loved food, & at every opportunity would eat as much as possible. when other characters expressed wonderment that he could eat so much, he would raise his shirt & reveal that when he was anticipating a big time, he’d wear pants with a rubber panel sewn into the front. And that is just what Rodman & I need. But when you can get 3 tasty appetizers, 3 wonderful main dishes, excellent Vietnamese coffee, & beer, & a fresh fruit shake for Reid, all for less than $9, what is one to do?

Also, we are traveling with the Golden Boy. All hail. I never thought of Reid’s hair as being golden but it does have that quality in the light. And people keep touching his hair & face for luck. He’ll be walking along & someone will reach out, grab him by the arm, stop him in his tracks, spin him to face them, & pinch his cheek & run a strand of hair thru their fingers. People are reaching past me to rub him, as if he’s a talisman. They are quite aggressive. At one temple, a man pulled him over toward his kids & gestured, saying, “souvenir, souvenir.” I was hesitant, as even after our brief time here, I’ve learned that a great many Vietnamese will ask you for money constantly, & they frequently will start by seeming to do something nice. But no, it was not a scam. These people wanted a picture of golden boy with their kids for a souvenir. The father & mother closed in on the little group & arranged the 3 kids into position, then stepped back & took a picture, the grandparents looking on with pride & smiles. Very, very strange. Reid says he doesn’t really like it when people nab him & pinch his cheeks, but he doesn’t want to be rude. I thanked him & praised him for being polite. It started when we got to Ho Chi Min. We left the air conditioned protection of the airport & stepped out into the air. And the gates were packed!! HUGE crowds of people, absolutely jammed together. Once again, I think this was to do with the holiday. Everyone was coming home for Tet, & the families were meeting them. And here we came, out of the airport, a tall blond guy, a little golden boy, & a redhead chick. People were laughing & pointing & before we’d gone 10 feet someone reached over the barrier & ruffled Reid’s hair. 3 feet later an old lady grabbed his arm so she could get a chance to pinch his cheek. There are many more non-Asians here in Hoi An, so I thought it would abate some, but that is not the case.

We were hoping to make it up the coast to Hue today, but we can’t get a flight back down to Ho Chi Min. We are quite disappointed. All the guide books tease one with super-saturated pictures of wrinkled old natives in quaint villages nestled among mist covered mountains, & we sure wanted some of that. But – a lesson learned – Tet is a really, REALLY big holiday here. Neither of us thought much of it beforehand, but it would be like traveling around xmas back home. Book early or you may be out of luck. As are we. Rodman spent a while last night leaving on the front desk, chattering with the clerk, & came back upstairs rather down. “There are no flights out,” he said. “And that’s not the worst. The only way back to Ho Chi Min is on the bus, a 14 hour ride.” I groaned. “The clerk said we can take the night bus.” “What’s that?” I asked, “something with beds?” Rodman looked that combination of put-upon & baffled that comes to one after finding everything out via broken English. “I don’t know. Seats you can sleep in or something like that.” I nodded, thoughtful. “Next time we come for 2 months,” he said tightly. I see his point. And the lesson learned is that when you want to actually have your feet on the ground in those lovely rural places, you disembark from the plane & immediately point yourself toward the country, without pause for anything. And that’s probably the only way you’ll make it there & have time. The cities & the travel will otherwise take you like quicksand.

Something I noticed yesterday – there don’t seem to be any fat Vietnamese. It’s quite startling. There are so many really huge people back home. And plenty of just plain overweight & squishy people. I’m surprised more of our population doesn’t communicate by mooing. But over here – nothing. skinny men, skinny women. And when they get old, they just get skinnier.

The hotels have been interesting. In Ho Chi Min, we stayed on the 4th floor walk-up of a nice little place. The room was sort of 2 rooms, being divided by a half wall. Also there was a balcony with plants. Also a fridge. I don’t know how much that would cost in the sated but we paid about $25/night. If that much. I can’t recall now. Now in Hoi An we have another 4th floor room with a balcony & fridge. The bathroom is better, but there is not much hot water. there is also a pool, free Internet, free bikes. It’s quite nice. $27/night.