In Which I Fall in Love With Vietnam and Try to Survive Crossing the Street


Lets picture this. If the one writing this, happened to be on the top bunk in a sleeper bus, and wearing a quite short dress. And just say, the bus  filled up and there where people laying in the aisles. And maybe I was in the front of the bus and the bathroom was at the back...
And then I had to pee...

Then what?  

I arrived in Hanoi, Vietnam a city of beautiful lakes, Victorian architecture, and deadly streets. 

The traffic laws in Vietnam are...Well there aren't any. 
It's  is a free for all.  
Around 30 people die everyday from traffic accidents in Vietnam. 

It's scary. I have no idea how it works. But it kind of does. 
In the five days I've been in Vietnam, I've seen two bad motorcycle accidents and one death.
So maybe it really doesn't work...



After a few days in the city, I found myself and my trusty backpack on a overnight train to Sapa. A far northern town, nestled among mountains and rice patties.

In South East Asia, when it comes to AirCon, the lines between a luxury and a mild form of torture are blurred. 
Our train boxes where so cold, some people had lost their voices the next day. Little moments, like bouncing around over a squat toilet, bundled in all the clothes I own, just wondering "What the...Why the..."
I stumbled off the train in the 6am drizzle. And looked for my tour guide. He had a sign with lists of our names, so we could find him. 
My last name was something like Konnom. 

Once our group had gathered, we stuffed our packs into the back of the van. There was one other American on the tour, Hilary. She was...without a sense of humor. She told me she hadn't slept at all on the train, she didn't eat pork, there'd better be a shower at the hotel and she was hungry. 
 
Breakfast was at a hotel in the town of Sapa. Fried instant noodles and chicken. 

Our first day of trekking we did 15km, slipping up and down muddy paths. Tip toeing across the edges of the patties.
The landscape is electric green, with watery rings around the mountains that reflect the sky.

It's amazing how much work goes into making the patties, etched into the hillsides. How they are able to shape the levels so the water lays evenly. 
All done by hand. It's really such a wonder.
Water buffalo wandered the path beside us. Pigs, chickens and goats munched out in the fields. 

Our group stopped for lunch in a hill tribe village. Fried instant noodles with pork! Hilary's feet were sore, and she couldn't eat the lunch. Shoot. 

We were bombarded by woman and young children, all selling prefab bracelets, bags and pillowcases. 
The children looked like zombies all swarmed around one person holding out bracelets, a little chorus of "You buy for me." 
Most of the children are kept out of school so they can sell things to the tourists. 
I gave one girl money , because I really didn't want a embroidered pillowcase, she had walked the whole trek with us, hold he was 17 and her husband was 19. She had her new born baby strapped to her back. Everyday she made the 15km hike to sell her goods.

It made me think, it's just the luck of the draw. Because of where I was born, my life is so dramatically different from hers... But I saw how easily that could have been my life. 

We got to our home for the night. It was a fancy hill tribe home. Fancy as in it had a toilet you could sit your butt on! 
A couple lived in the home, with there three little children, mostly pantsless! And grandma and grandpa, who we never really met, but just saw them pass like crooked, little shadows. 
There was a large fire pit in the middle of the kitchen. Dad cooked the whole meal, in one Wak, one dish at a time. Spring rolls, garlic fries, pork stir fry, chicken and onions, tofu and tomatoes, fried cabbage, and piles of rice.

My what a feast! 

After dinner around 7:30, the wife set a water bottle of home made rice wine and a deck of cards on the table. And told us they were going to bed and to have a goodnight! 

Most of our group was young girls from Europe. They did one shot and headed off to bed. 
Gary and Karen from Australia, Ramon from Spain, were all in their mid 40s but knew how to have the most fun. 
We had almost finished the 2 leater when two girls from Thailand, who hadn't said a word, came and sat down with us. After two shots, one got the giggles and sprayed a mouthful of beer in my face and then tipped over backwards in her chair. 
Gary played Yellow submarine on the guitar in hyper speed and we all forgot the words. 

The next morning it was banana pancakes and instant coffee before lacing up wet, muddy shoes. I sat next to Hilary and asked her how she slept, she said I stunk like bug spray...

Ramon and I talked about rock climbing and horse riding and the dangers of intentionally falling down a waterfall. 
Hillary wished she hadn't come. 
Lunch was instant noodle soup. 
Children pulled out all of their sales strategies. 





We were on the train home that night. 
I had just gotten settled into my cabin, when a woman came in and it was HER cabin, my bad. 

I trekked down the hall, into my right room and there was Ramon. Trying to squeeze passed a little old woman to get up to his top bunk. 

Once the old woman got up, tried to open the door, couldn't, swacked Ramon on the leg and pointed at the door. 

I was in the middle of a deep sleep when, a Vietnamese opera song came into my dream. It got louder and louder until I woke and found it was coming out of the train speaker.
Ramon was looking around, he said it was only 4am, we couldn't be here yet!
I asked the old woman downstairs "Hanoi?" She stood up and whacked both of us, "Hanoi!" Took her bags and walked out.
Most of the time trains here pull in late. But just sometimes they are really early and drop you off in a city that hasn't woken up yet. And then you get to wing it. 

Sitting at the lake's edge, watching old men do silly Asian exercises, (like twirling with airplane arms) waiting for the sun to come up or a coffee shop to open. 
I asked Ramon if he ever thought the reflection were right side up and the rest of the world was upside down? 

He said, yes I think we need coffee. 
 
Two hours, one kebab, a cup of coffee and a goodbye later I was on a bus to the coast.

Oh and as far as how this chicka got over climbed over 6 Vietnamese passengers in a mini dress...

Thank god I packed my smoke bombs! 




Comments

  1. Fantastic as usual, Gabbi. I shall miss your blog intensely. Can you write about the U.S. in the same way? Descriptions just hit the mark...few words, lots of color. Looking forward to an amplified version in person. Meg

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