miracle on random street

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Xin chào dear readers! (Hello in Vietnamese - sounds like “sin chow“) It’s been a while….. but here goes my attempt to catch you up… this is forever long and I apologize... but hope you enjoy if you make it to the end! 😊

As I finally controlled my laughter over the whole name debacle, I found myself on a bus headed up to the town of Sapa, Vietnam. Adventurous would be an understatement for our driver.. blind, fearless, crazy, suicidal? Those might be more appropriate. The road was windy, 2 lane, and covered in a thick layer of my oldest friend, fog. Instead of waiting for a clear view of potential oncoming traffic, we just went for it, every time, continuously honking our horn to warn of the probable wreckage. I imagined a leisurely ride, overlooking the beauty of Sapa, but what I got was better than any roller coaster I have ever been on. The fog made it impossible to see any of what I pictured... the beautiful, green stair cased rice paddies, the small village huts, the ever present buffalo, the sights of a new place.. I couldn't see anything, instead I amazingly scraped by a near 347 head on collisions.

We were taken to a "hotel" for breakfast and then directed towards the showers, which were pretty much outdoor boxes with a shower head, but left me feeling clean nonetheless. Next, we had about an hour to walk around Sapa Town. I met up with French Canadian Jonathon for a breeze through the local stalls and city streets. As we began walking, a group of "village ladies", decked head to toe in their tribal dress, began chatting with us and following us. It changed from "missy missy" to "wut yur naaame?" "where you cooome from?" "you have seester? bruuther?" I liked the change, it was nice, but after the 17th time you answer all of those questions you just want them to go away. Well, they won't. They want to "help" you, show you around, make sure you're OK. After a while of talking about my whole personal life with the range of babies to grandmothers showing me around, it was time to go. We went back to meet our guide for our trek to a minority village.

Now I knew their plan. They were hoping that we would be going to their village, thus, in the end, buying something from them. "I follow you, sho you.. buy sometiiiing from me noooow" A. I didn't ask you to follow me. B. I didn't want you to follow me. C. No. (but in a much nicer way, of course) They are worse than the massage people, because those people you can just walk past, these people follow you. It doesn't matter where you're going or how long it’s going to take to get there, they are going too. We set off in a direction and about five of the twelve followed us. Our “trekking group” was Jonathon and I, and a French girl named Lucille (I'm not actually sure that was her name, because she didn't speak English, but that's what Jonathon told me), our guide, five girls/women of a nearby minority village, and stupid Fog. It was drizzling, but I had a handy poncho (Thanks JM) so all was swell. I opted for some rain boots from the "hotel", so it'd be easier to tromp through the mud. The mud that at some points was so deep, my boots got stuck. Jonathon and Lucille wore their own shoes, and they proved to be disastrous. Jonathon was not allowed to walk behind me because he made me too nervous. He was a mixture between a blind bull and Ariel, when she first gets her legs. He couldn't keep his footing for the life of him and I just knew he was going to take me out like a wrecking ball. He would pause for an abnormal amount of time to take a photo, so I'd pass him, then stand patiently on the side as he came barreling down. I tried to explain to him why I was doing this, but it didn't really matter. We looked at each other with funny eyes, trying to tell the other one that they were the crazy person.

The further down the mountain/hillside we went, the lighter the fog became. Our guide would point out random things and/or tell us interesting stories/facts in his broken English, then I would break it down further into more broken/slower English for Jonathon, who would in turn do the same but in French Canadian to Lucille, who would take her parts of French French. She smiled and nodded a lot. I'm pretty certain she never got the actual meaning. You know, like that game "telephone" (or “Chinese whispers” as some might say 😊) where you whisper the phrase along and the last person always ends up with something ridiculous. Who knows what she ended up ever thinking.

A little while later, muddy step after muddy step and slip after slip for Jonathon, we came to our lunch spot. This is where the "followers" demanded we buy something. I planned to go trekking for 2 days, I didn't know I was going to be hounded to buy hideous bracelets or tribal clothes. Finally, we settled on these little jingling things that I still don't know what are. As soon as the money switched hands, you get "you not buy from me, you buy from her, buy sumting from meeeee" from another one. I could, yet couldn't believe it! Seriously?! I burst into laughter at the mere thought of their "cheekiness"! As we ate lunch, the fog started to clear more and more and you could see higher and higher. It was amazing. The rice paddies are stair cased and go up an unbelievable amount of stairs. It is hard to describe the sight, as I know nothing about rice paddies, but it truly is awe inspiring. It is a genius set up with the stairs "connected" by a watering system of bamboo pipes. The many different shades of green are gorgeous. As usual, the pictures don't do it justice.. partly because of the stupid fog, but also because of the utter beauty of seeing it in real life.

After a long days walk, we made it to the home stay. We were sleeping in a local minority families' house. We had a huge, delicious dinner, complete with homemade spring rolls and sickening, homemade rice wine. It is very much an "old school" kind of place.. the women are only meant to cook/clean, and the men are meant to work. The wife/mother ate dinner with us, but left as soon as she finished, as it's not right for her to sit with the guests while there is washing up to be done. We tried to help, but it wasn't permitted. It made me feel guilty for no reason, as this is their custom, but still. The father/dad just sat there drinking his rice wine all the while. He couldn't speak English so "telephone" started again as our guide translated his words and so on. It was tiring after 5 minutes. Soon enough, we turned in, to our mats on the floor and mosquito nets above. I woke up to dogs barking, bugs buzzing, chickens clucking, roosters crowing, Jonathon snoring (from across the room!), more dogs barking, birds chirping, and various other noises I can't begin to describe. It was like when you used to connect to the internet and that extremely high-pitched, awful noise came on.. boingzingchadoieng.. you know the one. Needless to say, it wasn't a great sleep, but I did wake up to a bit of sunshine. It wasn't fully sunny, but it wasn't fully foggy either!!

As we ate our breakfast on the “porch”, or really just the outside of the house that was covered, we sat like Christmas presents waiting to be opened by the few babies/women that lurked at the end of the “driveway”. They watched our every move and could barely wait to show/sell us some of their “treasures”. They were huddled together under colorful umbrellas, in their handmade, indigo soaked, beautifully intricate dresses, with babies swaddled on their backs. You could see questions turning in their heads as we approached, closer and closer. We had another long day of walking, so they were racking their brains for a chit chat before attempting to sell us any of their “goods”.

We were minding our business, tromping through yesterdays mud, trying not to fall, looking up only to see the array of greens spread down the layered hillsides, and suddenly we were faced with a large gathering of locals. We heard drums pounding in the background, chants being sung (yelled) as an eerie mist started coming down, and an uncomfortable feeling rose in my gut. It was a funeral. Funerals freak me out anyway, but this was different. It was extra creepy. They were set up right on the pathway and as we weren’t meant to be there, we certainly weren’t going to tromp on through. Jonathon did not understand this, for whatever reason. He wanted to go and snap up close photos, which about sent me over the edge. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people take pictures of other people without asking, or in situations such as this, where they aren’t welcome. Our guide tried to ask him to stay back nicely, but sooner rather than later, I actually had to tell him to put his camera away. As a traveler, I think it’s part of your responsibility to know when it is or is not appropriate for pictures. Of course, it was a rare sight and who wouldn’t want to capture it, but it’s inappropriate. Just because its new and different to us, doesn’t mean they’re putting on a show!

**Fellow travelers.. Please be respectful of all people/places/cultures/etc… at ALL times! If you’re going to take a picture, ask. If you’re not going to ask, make sure they do not see, or you are far enough away, that it’s ok. Pictures are for others, mental pictures are for us.. it’s why we travel isn’t it? The real life experience. **

Ok, off that tangent! The ladies took us up and around through some overgrown trail that dumped us out on the other side. We were a good ways away now, but you could still hear the deep, low beating of the drums and see the silhouettes of the family and friends. It was a beautiful sight, in a strange sort of way. We took it all in, then moved on past more and more rice paddies. Every so often we would pass a child, anywhere from 5 to 15 years old, out on their daily buffalo walk. Huge water buffalo just out on a lunch break, strolling through the paddies with a pint size kid in charge of it.

About 30 or so minutes after passing the funeral, we saw that same group of people headed our way and they were carrying something. Yes.. a flat wooden board with a body on top, covered in traditional garments. The bright white souls of his/her shoes were facing us and one lone hand stretched out from underneath the cloth. I will never forget that dark, boney, wrinkly, old hand that was left dangling from the wooden board. Oh, it gives me chills even talking about it! I, forgivably, asked where they were taking him/her. To the top, back of the hillside. Why? To burn it. Instead of burying, they burn the bodies (out in the open), so the spirits can live on and protect their homes/land.

Now, those of you who know me well, know that I refuse/am terrified to be buried, so I was alright with that, but the thought of your family and friends having to burn you like a barbeque… no thanks! I will stick with my “donation to science” plan. 😊

So, moving on, with the image of that hand forever imprinted on my mind, we made our way to a “waterfall”. Today’s walk was a little steeper, muddier, slipperier, blah blah.. and I fell. I slid down about 4 steps worth and was covered in a wet layer of mud from my right shoulder to my toe. Jonathon tried to make fun, but don’t you worry, he was seriously lacking any ounce of dry clothing! Ha, the dufus. Lucille didn’t count because she had the ladies holding on to each arm and helping with every step. So, I was pretty pleased with my single fall. : ) We stopped at the top of the “waterfall” only to realize that it wasn’t really much of a waterfall, besides the fact that there was little flow of water that did technically fall a long way. It was pretty even so and perfect for a photo op session, directed by our tour guide. Plus, I was able to slightly wash off the mud from my “slip”. : )

Picture after picture, step after step, sight after sight, and a quick swim mixed in there somewhere, we sat for lunch. Not surprisingly we sat down and were soon swarmed by ladies selling table cloths, pillow cases, jewelry, trinkets, you name it, and it only took 25 minutes of head shaking before they threw in the towel. Our noodle soup came and soon enough we were back on the trail. We passed a few “shops” and saw the ladies making the traditional clothing. It was really interesting and impressive. They spend hours, months even, to make such intricate things. I was really impressed with the true indigo. I didn’t know places like this still existed. I admit, it made me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. : )

We made our way back to the main road, after passing village after village. Vietnam has 54 different minority villages, most using different dialects. Can you imagine going 10 minutes down the road and not being able to speak to a person. It blows my mind. As we began leaving, the sun came out in full force. Two days of trekking in the misty rain and thick, gushy mud, and now it comes out.. when we‘re leaving! We had a few minutes to walk around the town again, shower, and head to the minibus that took us 45 minutes back to the town with the train station. As I got on the bus, I heard an American accent. Naturally, I eavesdropped until she said California.. no surprise there, as I continued to keep to myself. Soon enough the man I was nudged next to asks “Where are you from?” … “Mississippi” and up chirps the Californian “Reallaaay?! Say something!!!” I usually TRY to think before I speak, but it was already out of my mouth… “Awww shuga, youu waaannaa heeeaaa myyy Suuutherrrrn axceeent?????” then I smiled and laughed and tried to recover by playing it off like a big funny haha joke, but in my head I gave her an evil eye and quick slap of the jaw. Soon, she realized that’s not at all what I sound like (most days) and we both went back to quiet time. It drives me crazy that the only other Americans I have met are from California or NY. I don’t really know why.

Anyway, we made it to the train station, but we (Jonathon and I) had a while to kill before boarding. We wandered around and bumped into Lucille, so we sat next to her as she had to board before us. We ate some kind of noodle dish I’m sure and soon enough it was time for Jonathon to go. I sat there for a few minutes until a girl sat at the table next to ours. We started chatting and she was doing a motorbike trip throughout Vietnam. She was a bit older than me, but not by much, and traveling on her own as well. She bought a motorbike in Southern Vietnam and had made her way all the way up to Sapa (3 weeks). Impressive, huh? I thought so.

I boarded the train to find my French roomies, a mom and her two sons. She spoke a little English, but they did not… it was a quick lights out. We got back to Hanoi around 5AM and I was to meet at the hostel at 8AM for another trip. I knew the hostel wasn’t far from the train station so I wandered around until I found it. The early hours in Vietnam are filled with people moving, working, doing. It was nice to just slowly stroll around and watch people as they set up shop at the brink of a new day ready to open for business. I made my way back to the hostel with enough time to shower before leaving on a trip to Halong Bay. Halong Bay has almost 2,000 islets and is a world heritage site. Unbelievably gorgeous! Everyone who’s anyone has told me to go to Halong Bay. So that is what I did.

I heard several horror stories regarding certain companies, this that and the other, so I just went ahead and booked through the hostel even though it was a little more expensive. What do you know.. Jonathon was on this trip too. He was an interesting character. We were to take a 3 hour bus to meet the boat, the Johnny Roger, and spend the night in the Bay, on the boat. Everything was going as planned, the weather was beautiful, it was great. The boats here are called “junk boats” even though they aren’t junk - I like it. We boarded a little boat, to the bigger boat, had some yummy lunch, and were off to explore the bay. There were about 20-25 of us? A big group, so we all played the name game, told each other mini stories about ourselves, and so on. To my delight I finally met an American not from CA or NY. I met Carolyn from Texas, yay.. someone else who says ya’ll in every sentence! 😊 I loved it. She was on her own as well and we decided to share a room, which was great because it saved me from sharing with the strange bird, Jonathon.

A little later we anchored down and it was time for a swim. The water was a pretty deep greenish bluish color. The background was breathtaking and here we are jumping off a two story junk boat. Our tour guide “challenged” any of the girls to do a back flip off the boat.. I was the only one who said ok! Who hasn’t tried to do a back dive or flip into a pool? It’s the same thing, just takes a few mini seconds more to reach the water. : ) After a few practice regular jumps in, we climbed up top and over the edge we flew, feet flipping overhead and into the water! It was awesome. He made the mistake of telling me he’d never done a front flip, only backwards ones.. So that was next. I talked Jonathon into doing a front one as well. Haha he was much better in the water than he was in the mud! Not to toot my own horn, but I was the only one to do a back flip with the guide (boys included) and the only girl to do a front flip. : ) I’m going to try to load the video, but if I can‘t get it to work, you can check it on my facebook profile!

Next we all kayaked (further than we thought) to a cave. There was nothing special about this cave. I think it was just an excuse for something to kayak to. I have seen many a cave and this was a dud, by far. However, there were cutie little bats hanging around, so that was cool. It is not really ideal when you have so many people who care so little about caves in a cave, if that makes sense. We just stood around looking at each other, wondering what to do next. It was dumb. Well, not the cave, but the idea of taking way too many people into the dinky little cave. I was kayaking with an English guy the size of my left arm who had never kayaked before and constantly complained about the blister he created with his paddle on the way over.. it was great exercise and a lot of work in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

We made it back to the big boat and headed off for showers. We had a great dinner and lots of “get to know you” games followed. It was very entertaining! The sun set and out came the crazies. It was hilarious! The next morning came all too soon and it was decision time. I decided to upgrade and stay another night, which meant going to a private island and learning how to wakeboard. I was pumped. Only 9 of us were signed on for the night, which made it so much better with a small group. We took a fast boat to the island where I was greeted by two Vietnamese men.. one with only shorts on and the other decked in a Baylor tshirt wearing a hard hat. Carolyn and I couldn’t help but laugh at the randomness. We relaxed for a while, played some volleyball, and relaxed some more. It was glorious.

Next up was the wakeboarding. I have water skied before, but never wake boarded. I was up on my first try and even did a 180. I didn’t know I did this until after I fell and they were all cheering and clapping for me and yelling “you did a 180!!” as I yelled back “what? I did what?”. All their yelling and cheering made me a little nervous. It’s always made me a little uncomfortable when I’m out there floatin’ by myself, waiting for the boat to come back around. Ha, until I realized they were yelling about a good thing! We all took a shot at it and everyone stood up. Carolyn had a cool waterproof camera, so I was able to get some videos off her. Once we were worn out we jumped off the boat and swam to this little floating dock type thing. It was about the size of a king size bed or something. It had wooden slats atop several big plastic barrels.. making it very awkward to get on. Several of us sat out there soaking up the sun, trying to push each other off, telling hilarious stories, watching the clouds roll by, rocking up and down and up and down with every little wave, simply enjoying the moment. We stayed out there for quite some time, but finally “swam” in.. or really just drifted behind the back of 2 other boys’ kayak.

We didn’t even shower, went straight in for dinner and started another night of madness. We were a small group, on “exclusive Castaway Island”.. just us and about 5 Vietnamese “workers”… one guy cooked, one guy stood behind the makeshift bar, the others sat back watching and laughing as us Westerners let loose within one of my personal “seven wonders of the world.”. It was awesome. Carolyn and I from the US, 2 girls from Holland (I think), Jonathon the French Canadian, Ryan, Neil, Moss, and Suk from England.. and our 2 tour guides (English and Irish). A great trip!

I woke up the next morning and was disgusting. I still hadn’t showered, sooooooo sore from wakeboarding, and complete with cuts and scrapes all over my feet and legs. The beach was really shelly and rocky = my feet torn to bits, also my leg was scratched from competing in wheel barrel races.. Ha, and yes, I was hanging out with “Chonnie Cung” all day (just for you little inside jokesters!) We said our goodbyes to Castaway Island and headed back for the mainland. On the way back we made a pit stop and Carolyn saw this Vietnamese guy wearing a “southern” shirt. I can’t remember what it said now, but it was one of those like “Southern by the grace of God” shirts, it wasn’t that, but it was something similar, but worse. (Carolyn- if you’re reading this.. Do you remember?!?) We were cracking up, and even took a picture with him. He was loving it. Later he came back to us and got us to sign the shirt (still on his back)! Even later, all the employees were huddled around this piece of paper.. they had written the saying from his shirt down and were trying to translate it!! hahaha I know that may not sound that funny, but it was hysterical!! They had no idea and we couldn’t tell them because they didn’t speak English. We tried to explain, but to no avail. I can remember that it was an awful saying, but I think just seeing something like that in a world sooo far away from our own made us feel “homey”, as horrible as that sounds. I was glad not to be the only Southerner there. 😊

Finally back to Hanoi, completely disgusting. Oh and somewhere in there I left my flops on the boat, so was now shoeless. I immediately had to go at an ATM so I could pay for the upgraded part of the trip. I walked to the ATM where I first started in Vietnam, being scammed by the taxi driver. Well, that ATM was out of order.. so my bare, cut up feet and I were somewhat “tip-toeing” around and over all the filth of Hanoi. Third times a charm and I headed back, paid the folks, and went up to my room to shower. I tried to clean my worse than grocery store feet, feet, but they were weren’t really budgin’. I met two of my fellow roommates in the 10 bed dorm, we chatted, and soon I was ready to go, still shoeless. Just as I was walking out of the hostel part, a lady pushing a grocery buggy full of shoes passes by. She saw my bare feet and was on me like white on rice. I laughed to myself at the situation and proceeded to pick the latest in fashion flip flops. She had all kinds and colors, but not so many sizes. I have a big foot, I know this and after I tried on several she suggested, I just started digging in the buggy. Bingo! Black with white tops and some kind of red flag/symbol thing on the straps. I assure you, I wasn’t going on looks and the flag thing probably meant something offensive somewhere in the world but I had no idea what it meant and it looked relatively harmless. I handed over 3 dollars and I’m pretty sure she made at least 2.80 in profit. They were fine, but they were crap. I didn’t care. I didn’t have to tip toe anywhere. But how convenient! Just as I’m out the door, on a mission to find shoes… exactly what I needed comes right to me, on the spot in a grocery cart. I love SE Asia for random moments like that!

Carolyn and I met for dinner and decided we needed some Western food. We went to a cute little pizza place and ordered a hamburger pizza. I felt very “American”. We went back to meet up with the guys and we headed to a bar called ______. They closed pretty soon after we arrived and soon enough Carolyn and I were crammed onto the back of a motorbike headed down the streets of Hanoi. It was hysterical. Basically, our friend told the driver where to take us, but we had no clue. Every teeny bump we hit, I thought I was gonna fly right up and right off. I know that may not sound funny to some of you, but it truly was great. It might have been the previous drinks that made it so entertaining at the time. J **

We arrive at a garage door. The door opens up about half way, we go under and it shuts behind us. Bizarre. Inside the “door” is a bar and loads of people enjoying the beauty of being a traveler and simply living. Not a care in the world. I truly LOVE random as hell places such as this. A place you can go and talk to anyone without a care of what you have on, what kind of car you drive, what you do for a living, how much money you have in your bank account, blah blah blah. People want to know what you’re doing, where you’re going, what you’re seeing, who you are. I enjoy it. People are so intriguing! It gets my brain rolling, ideas popping, and dreams forming.

I got a ride home with a friend on his motorbike, which was interesting, but home safe and sound nonetheless! I crept into my dorm room as the sun came up and closed my eyes. I woke up beginning a new day back on my own. Carolyn flew out that morning and I was headed South. I had to wait around all day for the sleeper bus to pick me up at 6PM. I saw a few of my roomies from the night before and ended up "watching" (I slept through the whole thing) a movie in the hostel. Some pretty cool, or one really, English guy (that's you Jimmy!😊) and the shut eye made time pass quickly. The bus arrived and it was exactly as they said.. a "sleeper bus". This was my first experience with a sleeper bus, but I did as everyone else seemed to do and acted as if I'd done it a million times before. I found my "sleeping spot" which was an exact mix between a chaise lounge chair minus the cushion and a bed for a 6 year old. I kind of imagined I was in one of those beds that looks like a race car, but it wasn't near that cool. It wasn't completely flat, but flat enough. I was on the upper level which meant there was some random Vietnamese mom and/or child sleeping beneath me. I tried to stare out the window but I couldn't keep my eyes open, which was a miracle I could even sleep through the constant noise of that damn horn. I was on a 12 hour journey from Hanoi to Hoi An, which can be very tongue tying.

Before arriving in Hoi An I had to change buses in Hue, which has two little marks over the e but I don't know how to type them. It kinda sounds like "huh whey" but said put together and fast. Anyway, it was better than usualy because the hecklers here don't even wait for you to get off the bus.. they start bangin on the window right next to you. I was just connecting so I didn't have to have anything to do with them, but it was still overwhelming. They are crazy. I was able to walk around for about an hour, but it was so hot I just kind of wanted to relax. Hue is an interesting city, but I was OK with sitting this one out. They have a citadel, forbidden city, multitudes of monuments, and much much more. I'm sure they are all "amazing". However, I sat catching up on some emails and checking in on my world miles upon miles away.

I returned and met the next bus taking me the relatively short distance to Hoi An. On the bus I met two English girls, Lilly and Belle, we decided to share a room for the next two nights. They were super nice girls who shortened every other word and cracked me up! They were dead serious, hun! They ran out of shower stuff so I let them borrow my "condish".. and everything was so presh!! We went out the first night, but didnt stay out too long.

Hoi An is famous for its streets lined with custom tailors. They can make any and everything, seriously. I thought about having some stuff made, but then decided not to because I wasn't patient enough... plus, I didn't want to carry it around! I planned to wake up the next day to kind of "sort out" my next few days ahead. I booked a day long bus trip for the next day to visit a historic site. It was a beautiful day so I rented a bike and rode around the town. The girls set out for the beach and I was going to meet them later on. As I was cruising around I stopped at a random lady and her pegboard full of sunglasses. I was trying a few on as she held up the mirror, but couldn't decide between two pair. Some random man pops up out of nowhere and starts advising me on which ones to buy. We started chatting, of course, as I settled on a quality $2 pair of black ray "and" bans. He was telling me a bunch of stuff I wasn't listening to and before I knew it we were sitting on the curb looking through a "book" of other travelers.

He has a motorbike and takes tourists on "tours" of Vietnam. I had heard about guys like this before, but had never talked to one. I was interested. He has a day tour, 2 day tour, up to however much you can afford tour. I liked him. He sold himself well and just after I bought those "sunnies" he advised me to, I bought a 3 day tour with Tum. His name is Tom but it sounds like Tum, so that's what I'll call him. I put a down payment (a big deal) on a 3 day tour and he was to pick me up in the AM. I canceled my previously scheduled tours/buses and was to meet Tum after breakfast the next morning. I waited. and waited. and panicked as I waited. There was a funeral procession outside (which are crazy) and come to find out, Tum was caught in the "traffic". My panic turned into addrenaline as I watched him strap my backpack onto the bike. What in the hell was I doing?! Who is this random Vietnamese man? He told me where we would be going and what we would be doing, but where would I be sleeping? showering ever? I know that's what some of you are thinking but I hadn't a care in the world besides... please let this be worth the money!

I could go into such detail about how absolutely incredible this trip was, but I won't. I won't bore you with things you can only truly know once you've been there yourself. I can't explain it to the way in which I know it, but only skim the surface. First off, Tum was hysterical. He was 53 and actually liked Americans. His Dad used to work near an American
airbase and sometimes the soldiers would come into their village and play marbles with him. He said he has no hard feelings towards us, which is remarkable. I don't know if I just didn't pay attention in school (which is highly likely) or I was never taught the severity of the "Vietnam War". I say " " because they call it the "American War", which makes sense, but I never even thought of it that way. Anyway... I saw, heard, learned, and felt so much on this 3 day tour. I would have never seen 75% of the things I did had I been on another bus or train. Here I was, just Tum and I, cruising down the Ho Chi Minh Trail.. absolutely amazing. Vietnam is a gorgeous country. The people, the sights, the food, all of it just brings you in and repeatedly keeps your heart on track. I can't even tell you all the names of the teeny towns we visited. I clearly was an outcast. Each time we would stop somewhere people would stare at me or even passing children in the streets. We could not go anywhere without a "heeeello!" I would smile and wave and they would get so embarrassed! It was hilarious. Stoplights in the "bigger cities" were always a joke.

First we stopped at a pottery place. I learned how they made all kinds of things, even whistles, which I bought two of because the tiny cutie selling them told me it was "hapyy our - you geet two fo onne". I loved it. This is also where they make clay tiles used in roofing... still dry by the sun. Next, fabric making, broom making, paper making, rice paper making, rice paper tasting, rice paper eating.. the whole shebang. It was excellent. We were on "roads" only made for motorbikes and locals. Later we met up with one of Tums "business partners" 😊 who was giving a tour to a Swiss guy. I felt much better about Tum when I saw the other guys bike and bicycle helmet. Tum had a very nice back and real helmets at least. lol. We went to a waterfall.. drove, drove, drove some more. To my surprise we stayed in a very nice place, the nicest places I stayed throughout all SE Asia. I had my own room, AC, shower, TV, the works. I was so tired though it didn't matter. Riding a motorbike will wear you out.

Again, I won't go into much more detail, but on Day 2.. down came the rain, the hard, heavy rain. Tum was prepared and had us both a hot little numbers. We were decked head to toe in raingear overtrousers and overcoats. I still have no idea how he was able to see the road. It wasn't just a little rain, it was full on downpour. I must admit, at first, it was a little fun, but after those first 2 minutes.. it was just horrible. We pushed on though and eventually it stopped. Yes, it was one of those cliche moments where the rain stops, the sun comes out, the rainbow shines bright, the world feels like a better place. It rained off and on after that, but we were OK with it. Thankfully Tum was a chatter because it literally was just us for 3 days. We would talk to people at restaurants, but other than that.. Tum and I bonded. haha. We visited minority villages, markets, an orphanage (which almost kept me in Vietnam), churches, viewpoints, old air fields, bomb craters, coffee plantations, rubber trees, pepper groves.. you name it. I think my favorite part was just being with a proud, loyal citizen who was grateful enough to show me some true innerworkings of their own country.

As Day 3 rolled around I was so happy. I had had a tour that went above and beyond my expectations. If you ever go to Vietnam, make one of these tours a TOP, if not the first, priority. Every once in a while we would have to take breaks so Tum could smoke and I could walk around to "un-numb" my bottom. Not too long after one of these stops Tums phone rang so we pulled over again. This is where I had a near melt down. I got off the bike, careful not to burn my leg, and noticed my small bag was missing. My bag with my money, my passport, my visa, my credit card, my debit card, my you get the point. And so our conversation went:

me: Tum! my bag! my bag! where is my bag?
Tum: wut? you bag? you not see it here?
me: No! my bag is gone, we have to go back
Tum: small bag? why you not have it with you?
me: TUM! we HAVE to go back. I cannot pay you without this bag.
Tum takes off yelling "stay, I come back here" and I am standing on the street in a random village

I look around and am in disbelief. I wasn't in hysterics though because I had my camera (ultra tourist!) around my neck. A woman came out from the hairdresser (no lie) across the street with a plastic chair and waves me over. I go the 10 steps to her and sit. And so our conversation went:

me: silence
lady: where you from?
me: the US
lady: oooooh U.Ssss. Caaliifooria? Tex?
me: no, I'm from Mississippi
lady: in utter confusion gets more of her friends to come and check me out

Normally, I would have been all about a chit chat, however, I just lost pretty much everything I care about in Vietnam. I was no chatty cathy. There were about 5 ladies around me trying to speak to me in English, except they don't know English so they would say something, I wouldn't understand and then they would converse and come up with something else, which still wasn't English. It was frustrating me soooo bad. Then, they got a young boy to come talk to me who spoke a little English, enough to tell them what happened and why I was upset, because at this point I started crying - which only led to more chaos. The boy was trying to get me to go with him on his motorbike to find my bag, but I couldn't leave in case Tum came back.... it was horrible. I felt like I had a boulder in my stomach. Finally, Tum returns, bagless. I INSISTED we go back. He did not think this was a good idea. It started raining again, but every so often we would stop and he would ask the random people on the street if they had seen "a black bag". Of course it was all in Vietnamese but I knew he really was trying to help. Thanks Tum. Anyway, stop after stop and still no bag. He was ready to give up saying "they not want you papers (passport) they see tee money and tat is all" and with one last stop. Through the Vietnamese I saw the boys face light up and I knew it! It was a Vietnamese miracle! lol He jumped on his bicycle and here Tum and I puttering beside him. He pointed us to one house and soon enough there were 8 of them. Tum and I with a herd of Vietnamese kids all hootin and hollerin with excitement! I was soooo excited, but yet to see my bag. A teenage guy came out and pointed us to the neighboring house. I burst in there and in the corner I saw my bag. An elderly couple came out and the lady retrieved my "papers" from their glass case where she had already stacked them neatly. It was soo bizarre! I did not care. I could not have been more thankful and excited to see my stuff. They had already swiped the money, but had given it all back, to the last dong (their currency 😊). I didn't take it though. As long as I had my cards/passport/visa, I knew I would be OK. I hugged every single one of them even though I don't think I was supposed to. I hugged and they stood shell shocked as they let it happen.

As much of a whirlwind as it was, I could not have asked for anything better. I think it's good to have those reminders that everything is not up to you, but happens nonetheless.

Everything in life has ups and downs, but it's how you handle them that matter most.

Remember..... It will all workout! 😊


peace,

MK

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Photos

Sapa women in traditional dress
:)

me and Fog
they gave me something to put in my hair... ha

stairs
they are unbelievable, even in real life

Tum and I
Easy Riders
:)

corn
set out in the sun (and on the side of the road) to dry so it will last longer

people movers
Vietnam

heat
my camera fogged immediately after getting off the train

"junk boat"
they are even prettier when their sails are up

moi
Halong Bay

lone islet
(I like the word islet)

ceremony pole
they tie a buffalo to this pole by its horns and it runs in circles until it dies... its seen as a beautiful thing... birthdays, weddings,other celebrations, etc in the minority villages