Cyclo

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Evening all,

How's things? Hope you're all fine and/or dandy.

I must say I've been rather tired coming into the final week of my time in Vietnam, and am feeling a little burnt out.

I find these short business stints rather difficult I guess because there's so much to deliver whilst you're here, so it's a bit non-stop. You do have to take breaks though, otherwise you will go postal and do something drastic, like I dunno, clean out the mini bar of its contents and then dance around your hotel room to kitsch 80s pop (not that I did that of course....).

That being said, I'm feeling better this monday evening after taking the day off for a public holiday here. It kind of took me back to the nostalgia and more halcyon days of backpacking as I went out and got to meet random people that I wouldn't have otherwise met (a Bulgarian in Vietnam named Blaga?? What are the chances? A very very interesting person....)

Anyways, this will be my last entry as I'm back home in Melbourne next week, so all the other stories I'll have to tell you in person when I'm home. This week's entry goes something like this:

Any of you watch the TV show 'My name is Earl?' It's about, you guessed it, Earl, and also his somewhat slow-witted brother Randy. I've had a few instances over the past week which remind me of a moment in the show:

Randy: Ooh, cookies!

Earl: Don't eat those, they're poisonous.

(beat)

Randy: How poisonous?

Everytime I see a vendor selling food on the street that looks good I go through the same conversation:

Stomach: Ooh, Pork rolls/grilled pork chops!

Brain: Don't eat those, they're poisonous.

Stomach: How poisonous?

Ok, they're probably not poisonous, but it'll potentially cause problems if your iron gut is not up for the challenge. I still haven't tried it yet, but I don't leave til the end of the week so maybe....

But enough about food. It must sound like eating is all I've been doing here, but I've managed to take some time out away from dining tables and do some sightseeing.

I was walking on the street minding my own business on the weekend when I was spruiked by a cyclo (pronounced 'sick-lor') rider looking to show me around town. 9 times out of 10, I don't give these guys the light of day but this one intrigued me because he was armed with testimonials. Yes, testimonials, like the one's given on late night ads for strand by strand hair replacement and acne cream. 'No really, thanks to proactiv, I've regained my face AND my confidence...' But I digress.

Anyway, He showed me photos of tourists he had taken around as well as a diary full of comments provided by seemingly pleased customers. It seemed a little random, but I figured 'ah, what the hell' and hopped onto his cyclo. I have to admit I was rather impressed by his testimonials 😊

Initially, riding in a cyclo is an odd experience. For those that have never seen a cyclo, it's essentially a bicycle with a chair bolted to the front of it. The last time I sat in a chair being pushed from behind was probably as a 3 year old sitting in a stroller being pushed by my mother, only I probably weigh the equivalent of a dozen 3 year olds nowadays, and my rider did look a little malnourished and stringy. He assured me however that he was up to the task.

We started riding (well he started riding), and it was immense fun. You ride on the road, and the cars and motorbikes whizz by literally inches away from you in all directions. Like all amusement rides, you do need to keep your hands and feet inside the cyclo, as a simple stretch of your arms could cause you to punch out some unsuspecting motorbike rider. Although technically, it's more they would have run into my fist.

Now, as part of riding in a cyclo, you have to negotiate an itinerary with your rider, and mine involved a visit to chinatown and two Vietnamese temples. My rider however, chose the roads to travel on and the route he chose was all about the fundamentals of Asian culture: death, re-birth (ok, pro-creation), wealth and hotting up cars/motorbikes.

His broken english commentary along the way went something like this:

Cyclo man: This one hospital. For people from outside Ho Chi Minh City. For poor people from country.

Me: oh ok. That's interesting.

Cyclo man: This one main hospital. Lots of motorbike crash come here. Look those people, all waiting for doctor.

Me: oh, that's no good.

Cyclo man: Over there is bar. Vietnamese girls, very seck-see, good bom-bom.

Me: (nervous laugh) haha..that's uh, good to know.

Cyclo man: Over there (on the street) Vietnamese girl for bom-bom. Old though, too big, not seck-see, no good bom-bom.

Me: uh huh...

Cyclo man: you like motorbikes?

Me: (trying to change the subject) oh yeah, LOVE motorbikes. Yeah, I like fast motorbikes.

And sure enough, we went down a street where you could get different mufflers and decals to make your puny little 150cc motorscooter more macho. It was amusing, it was the Fast and the Furious Vietnamese style )

Anyway, we eventually got to Chinatown which was quite interesting. I felt like a celebrity, I received lots of stares, generally out of curiosity and bemusement but sometimes disdain too. I enjoyed visiting the temples too. I felt a little strange though, as I was probably the only tourist at the temples.

At one of the temples I was invited by the locals to play a kind of Chinese/Vietnamese hackey sack with them. Essentially it's the same principle, only you use a special kind of shuttlecock instead. They all laughed at my ineptitude, I just appreciated being kind of accepted by strangers who were happy to include me in their game. They were also happy to have their picture taken. This time they were the celebrities and I was the curious onlooker-cum-papparazzi.

At the other temple I was invited by the 75 year old head monk to have tea with him. I was kind of awestruck by the warm hospitality given to strangers like me, especially given the obvious language barriers. He led me around his temple, lighting incense for me and directing me to the appropriate Buddha and other gods to pray to. Very cool, and very serene too. I also loved the fact we went down alleyways of where real vietnamese people lived. Poor households with small houses all clumped together, but a remarkably relaxed demeanour and strong community spirit.

Before the cyclo rider dropped me back off at the hotel, he stopped at a massage parlour full of 'seck-see' young vietnamese girls who do 'good bom-bom'. I politely declined and asked to be sent home, never once doubting anyone's 'bom-bom' abilities.

Anyways, that's more than enough gasbagging from me. Hope to see or speak to you all soon.

cheers,
Ben

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