Good Morning Vietnam

Tuesday morning rolls around and we’re all packed and ready to country hop. The group of us (sans the American girls who did something else) hike down to the bus stop and pile on for the 7-8 hour journey to Hanoi. The ride was lovely. As soon as we got away from the cement sidewalks of Nanning, fields are bursting with different shades of green. The farmland seems to extend for miles, circling large mountains of limestone. The area is known for it’s limestone topography—had I been more adventurous over the weekend I would have gone and checked it out, but sometimes it’s nice just doing nothing.

We arrive at the Chinese border where Juhani and I assumed we’d be returning to the same bus and both left our books on board. I have carried Anna Karenina around in my backpack for nearly a year…and I was finally getting to a good part. And I left it. DAMMIT! Border control zips us around in modified golf carts to expedite a process, which cannot be expedited. Again, our temperatures are measured, passport pictures scrutinized—but we are successful. We finally receive our new stamps and hurry to the bus to continue our journey. They second bus ride was less enjoyable than the first. Myself, Wade and the Fins are mashed into the back of the bus with our bags (the undercarriage was full), but we manage to keep each other’s spirits up with tails of the road. Wade has an endless supply of humorous stories (reminds me of my dad), so we laugh all the way in Hanoi.

The minute the bus pulled into the “station” (a small parking lot with a lot of cabs milling about) a woman hopped aboard the bus and persuades us to check out her hotel. Figuring we have few options, we take her up on her offer. We head to the hotel, which seems suitable for our needs. Wade and I take one room and the Fins another. We only pause long enough to drop our stuff, wash the sweat off our faces, exchange our money for Dong (*just a note, every time the word “dong” was used, we would usually sing, “Dong, da-da, daaa, dong” just think about that), and then we take off looking for food.

Hanoi is an interesting city. The streets that surrounded our hotel were flooded with small shops selling everything one could possibly want. Processes foods, clothing, bathroom tiles, fireworks…We maneuver our way to an area with a few food stalls and settle on some kebabs. The rest of the afternoon is spent wandering around—and getting rained on. We find a street vendor who sells glasses of beer for $4000 dong—which is roughly $0.12. Not a bad deal. So, the four of us are standing under an archway, trying to stay out of the rain, throwing back some cold beers, when I feel something on my leg. I glance down, not really seeing anything, then turn my leg to the side, and there it is. A COCKROACH is crawling up my leg—and not a small one!! Its about 2 inches long and not wasting time getting off the wet sidewalk and up my leg. At about mid calf I start screaming and vigorously shaking my leg—and all of this happened just as a motorbike was driving past, almost had my leg taken off! Finally, I shake it loose and before I can articulate my horror—I see it running back for more. Only this time it assaulted Juhani who was standing next to me. Juhani didn’t notice at first and couldn’t understand my shrieks of terror—apparently they don’t translate into Finnish all that well. But as soon as it got half way up his calf he got the point. He finally shook it free, which sent his sandal flying over to a table full of Vietnamese, who thought the entire spectacle was hilarious. Meanwhile, the cockroach also heads over to the table of Vietnamese and goes up a man’s pant leg!! Juhani and I yelling—both in English and Finnish, trying to alert this man of the horrible scene taking place when he calmly grabs his pant leg, shakes out the cockroach, then slams his foot down on top of it—without so much of a sound. He smirks and looks up at us, then slowly raises his glass of beer…I couldn’t stand still the rest of the night.

The following day, Myself, Wade, and the Fins managed to make it to the ‘Hanoi Hilton,’ John McCain’s home away from home while he was a POW in Vietnam. The building is an up-beat yellowish-orange color, far from what it used to be I’m sure. Many pictures inside depict American soldier POWs having a lovely time during their stay. The pictures show them decorating Christmas trees, playing volleyball, or opening presents from loved ones back home. I think one picture even showed them carving a turkey on Thanksgiving? Maybe this was after John McCain’s stint… Meanwhile, other rooms showcase the barracks where Vietnamese were held and it is a far worse picture. The blunt translations of weapons and pictures only add to the chilling effect of the prison.

That night, we meet up with some of Wade’s fellow teachers, Neive and Jessica. Both are from Ireland (but didn’t know one another before arriving in China), and head out to a local bar for some cheap drinks. We walk around the town, taking in the sites once again. Hanoi is a lovely city, once you get out of the crowded mass of shops. Many of the older buildings have been maintained or restored, so there is a nice feel to the city.

The following day Wade and I make an attempt to see Ho Chi Min’s body at the Mausoleum, but our attempts are thwarted at my whore-like appearance. My Nike running shorts are too revealing and we were banned from viewing the embalmed body. But, we were invited to walk the grounds—however the security guard gave us confusing hand motions, so we just left. That night the gang got together at local hot spot—the Vietnamese Irish Pub! After a round or two I was mingling with the table near us only to find one of the girls at the table was my hostel mate from Costa Rica! Erin, an Irish girl—last I saw her was in September and at that time I had no plans of coming to China (especially not Vietnam) nor did she. A funny coincidence that called for a shot of tequila.

The night closed down with us shutting down the pub and exiting into a slough of moped drivers (which act like taxis here). One driver kept hassling me for my fare, when I proposed an even better idea—to let ME drive! To everyone’s surprise (even my own, I think) he scooted back and gave me room to hop into the ‘driver’s seat.’ Elated with this proposition, I hopped on without asking any questions—and then proceeded to stall the moped. Didn’t realize that was possible. But my backseat driver got her up and running in a jiffy, and about 3 seconds later we were zooming through the empty streets of Hanoi! I only took the hog around a few blocks before making a turn around, then zoomed back to the pub honking my horn wildly. It was the best ride ever…

We all find our way back to the our hotel and settle into bed. We’ve decided to depart for Halong bay in the morning—you can stay for a few days on boats just offshore at night and tour through the islands during the day. It’s a popular stop on the Vietnamese backpacking circuit…

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Part of trip: China Adventure

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