Measure twice, cut once

The last few days for us has been somewhat hectic, yet relaxing. We're in Hoi An, Vietnam...aka tailoring capital of the country! Hoi An was a sleepy little town until 1992, when it was recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site. Especially in the Old Town, the historic houses, alleyways, and silk lanterns (especially when lit up at night) makes it ooze with kitschy Asian charm. 

For many tourists, this is exactly the kind of place they imagine Asia to be, and so flock here by the thousands. The locals, of course, take advantage of this opportunity by selling itself as THE place in Vietnam to get clothes and all the fixings made to measure. You can't walk 10 steps without seeing a tailoring shop, a shoe shop, a souvenir shop, or anything else you can purchase…they try to sell you everything here! Needless to say, it was only a matter of time before we were sucked into the madness.

The first day we arrived, we did our research and read some reviews on shops that people have recommended. We spent that day darting in and out of tailor shops comparing prices and fabrics. It didn’t take too long before we had ladies chirping over us in Vietnamese about our measurements and adjusting the fit. Let me tell you, it’s addictive. The whole process is quite fun. They take your measurements, you go for a few fittings, and along the way, you’re tempted to buy an extra pair of pants, and a tie, and shoes, and maybe a nice coat to go along with it. Then you justify the whole thing by converting it back to Canadian dollars and telling yourself that you could never get the same kind of deal back home.

Kevin getting measured up

We’ve been here for 4 days now, and we’re gonna be leaving Hoi An with (are you ready for it?) for Kevin: 3 suits, 4 shirts, 1 pair of pants, a pair of shoes, a coat, and 3 ties. For me: a blazer, 1 pair of dress pants, 1 pair of jeans, a dress, 2 shirts, and 3 pairs of shoes. It’s been a merry Christmas indeed.

Speaking of Christmas, there’s not much festive mood here except for some cafes playing Christmas carols, and the odd Vietnamese kids who run around with Santa costumes on. Apparently, that’s how it goes down here. It’s a bummer that we can’t spend this time with our family and friends, but we’re thinking about you guys everyday. Hope everyone has a great holiday season filled with warmth and laughter.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Christmas Eve in Vietnam- it's the kids that dress up as Santa 

Eating HCMC in 39 hours

Greetings from Vietnam! After a 12 hour journey from Kep, Cambodia, switching vehicles four times, and crossing the Cambodia-Vietnam border on foot, we arrived in Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC… or Saigon, depending on which side of the war you’re on) at midnight. We wasted no time in getting our food tour started. By 2AM, we had already had 4 bowls of pho (the famous beef noodle soup) between the two of us. We went to bed that night in a hotel room where we splurged somewhat, and so were able to enjoy some luxuries that we’ve gone without for a while (ie. air con, cable TV, and wall paper). Even though I read that HCMC’s traffic is as bad as it gets in South East Asia, we still rented a bike to scoot around town. We didn’t really scoot too far though as our cravings needed to be constantly satisfied.  I know I’m always talking about the crazy traffic that we experience, but really, HCMC’s tops even Phnom Penh’s.  We found ourselves weaving through traffic flowing in all directions while trying to navigate through a four way intersection. And by traffic, I mean the 3 million motorcyclists that call this city home.

Hello, traffic madness.

By the end of the day, we had eaten ourselves into a stupor. We had consumed another 4 bowls of pho, 2 bowls of duck noodle soup, 6 scoops of ice cream, and fresh fruit scattered throughout the day. Yes, I would say it was another successful gastronomic day. We’ve been told that food in Vietnam is delicious and plentiful, so we’re definitely looking forward to the rest of our time here. We’re off to check out the sand dunes in Mui Ne next, as we head north into Vietnam.      

One of the many bowls of pho we had...and will have.

The art of doing nothing

In Transit has been sitting on the back burner for the last few days because frankly, there really hasn’t been that much transiting going on. We arrived at the southern coast of Cambodia, in a town called Sihanoukville, to go scuba diving (or so we thought). But after arriving here, we opted for the more secluded part of a more secluded beach, so there wasn’t much to do around here other than relax. Kevin’s spent his days trying to nurse a cold, and I’ve been terribly busy lying on the beach and reading.

It’s been a very nice change from the crazy chaotic city of Phnom Penh, where we spent a couple of days before coming down here. At no matter what time of day, there was hustle and bustle all around you.  Despite the craziness, we opted to rent a motorbike to get to some of the further sites. I didn’t think the kind of traffic jams that we wedged our way through was actually in existence. It almost felt like a logic puzzle where we had to find a way to the end of the street without bumping into other vehicles or going over huge potholes, before the light turned red again.

So, you could imagine the great appeal Otres Beach in Sihanoukville had when we arrived and it was pitch dark except for the twinkling stars above, as the electricity was also out. The second night, we decided (OK, fine… “I decided” because I know Kevin will be reading this) that it’d be a good idea to sleep in a bungalow directly on the beach. How romantic is it to be lulled to sleep by the gentle waves of the ocean right by your feet? Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Our night on the beach wasn’t as dreamy as I thought. The waves were so loud that it was hard to fall asleep, and after what felt like a really long sleepless night, we woke up to find out that it was only 1AM. At that point, I wished that the sound of the waves was actually an ocean CD that I had accidently left on repeat. Needless to say, we moved back to our bungalows the next night. They were still very close to the beach, but not on it, and had some very peaceful nights afterwards.

So, as for the art of doing nothing, I think we perfected it quite well. But now, we are eager to give our digestive muscles a work out. We’re heading to the seaside town of Kep, known to the locals for its super cheap and fresh seafood, just in time for lunch.    

     View from our bungalow where we spent that sleepless night

Birthday in Cambodia

                                    Angkor Wat at sunrise

Kevin’s birthday was a couple of days ago, and we spent the first half of the day finishing off our temple tour at Angkor Wat. Our night bus from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh wasn’t until midnight that night, so we had a lot of hours to kill. We decided to check into a hostel for those hours, so that at least we could shower and have somewhere to put our bags.

Across the street from our hostel, I noticed there was a sign that read “Jimmy’s Village School” and there was a sign which asked for volunteers to drop by and help out in any way they wish. I made a mental note to come back later that evening to see what the “school” was about.  When I did venture back, there were at least 50 kids belting out English sentences. Some kids were seated on makeshift tables and benches, and the rest were standing by the back listening and learning intently to the guy who was in front of the “classroom.” Jimmy, as it turned out, was a local Cambodian who wanted to offer free English lessons to kids in the city after school. He started up the school 4 months ago in front of his mother’s laundry shop. One the first day, there were 4 kids that showed up. On the second day, there were 10. And now, merely 4 months later, he sees about 100 or so kids everyday who show up religiously to his classes.

Jimmy said that in Cambodia, to go to public school is free, but the mandatory stationary likes pencils and books are not, which results in kids not being able to afford continue going to school. English is not offered in schools unless you go to a private school, which is very expensive. Jimmy’s a student himself, studying English Literature in university. However, after this year, he’ll most likely have to quit because he cannot afford it. University tuition is $420…a year. Despite this, he’s determined to continue offering free classes to anyone who wants to come, and has grand plans of seeing his ambitious ideas blossom into reality.

It was such a nice change to talk to a local Cambodian who just wanted to do good for his community and his country. As travellers, and most of the time as a tourist, you can’t help but immerse your travels in self-indulgence and gluttony. As a result, most of the locals that you meet are only after your money. Meeting Jimmy, and being surrounded by the kids was like a breath of fresh air. I was only there for about an hour talking with the students and answering their questions, but during that time, I have never felt such curiosity, passion, and dedication from any of the students that I have ever taught. At first they were shy and hesitant to ask me questions like what I did that day, but it didn’t take long for them to be shouting out what they wanted to be when they grew up – a business man, a doctor, a lawyer, and a teacher.

Near the end of the hour, Kevin came to check out the scene. I had told the students earlier that it was Kevin’s birthday, and when he came to sit in front of the classroom beside me, they sang him two rounds of Happy Birthday, once in English, and once in their language, Khmer. I wish I had gotten it on video. One student, whose English was quite good, was even quizzing Kevin about my favourite food and what I like to do in my free time!  

I wish we could have done more to help Jimmy, but with our time constraints and our lack of funds, it feels like our hands are somewhat tied. We left that night on our night bus to Phnom Penh pensive but hopeful. I really do hope that his dreams for his school are realized, and that hundreds of more kids can benefit from his kindness.

You can check out Jimmy’s facebook page to learn more about him and the school, and maybe even send him a few encouraging words. 

http://www.facebook.com/groups/189594284440704/

The good, the bad, and the ugly

We already heard some not so good things about Vang Vieng before we got here, but the crazy shit that happens in this place cannot be properly put into words. Fortunately, we were also able to see a less uglier side of this town void of loud music, Friends episodes running on repeat, and tourists drunk out of their mind.

The Good

When you simply step out of the ugly town centre, you’re struck with the natural beauty that is around you. There are huge karst mountains jutting out of the ground, the pretty river flowing through the town, and the blue sky and white puffy clouds create a perfect backdrop. Even though Vang Vieng is most famous for its tubing down the river, we decided to venture out past the bars and see it on our rented motorbike.  We headed to this waterfall just 20 minutes from our hostel, and along the way, we shared the dusty road with cows, goats, and turkeys. We had the waterfall to ourselves for quite a while, and stood under the falls to feel the cold fresh water beating down on our skin.  We also tried our hands at caving. Caving is when you walk, climb, and crawl your way through these dark caves in the mountains with just a flashlight, and in our case, flip flops. It’s quite the adventure because at times you look down, and one misstep could spell the end.

The Bad

Some say that Vang Vieng has lost its soul to tourism, and that other towns in Laos look to Vang Vieng to make sure their tourism industry doesn’t become was has become here.  At any time during the day, you'll see tourists either coming from or going tubing, dressed with only their bikinis or swim trunks. If this were the beach, whatever. But this is a small farming town, where the locals are always covered up. C'mon people, have some respect for yourself and others.Walking through the main stretch of town is quite a strange feeling because you see locals slurping up noodle soup on one side of the road, and on the other side, you see the restaurants and bars catered to the tourists that loop episodes of Friends or Family Guy constantly. We’re not talking about one or two restaurants, but ALL the restaurants. It’s the strangest thing. On our last day here, there was a power outage that affected the whole town. Despite this, the restaurant owners simply started up their back up generators and the familiar faces of the Central Perk gang were back on the screen in no time. The show must go on, I guess.

The Ugly

It’s sad to think that some people come to Vang Vieng, and think that this is all that Laos has to offer. They come to Vang Vieng to get hammered and stoned and use it as an excuse to abuse their bodies. Yesterday, we ventured over to where the tubing starts to see what this gong show was all about. This tubing thing basically goes like this – you rent a tube for the day and float it down the river while stopping at bars along the way. The people at the bars throw you rope to pull you in, where you chuck your tube to one side, drink, and then you continue down the river. However, most people usually only make it to the first couple of bars before they’re too drunk to remember where they’ve placed their tube, so instead they perhaps try to swim down the river, drink more, or jump off these high platforms and rope swings. Sounds like a bad combination? Well, it is. The word on the street is that so far this year, there have been 16 deaths. And every year, it’s the same kind of story. I don’t want to be all Debbie Downer and say that it wasn’t fun because Kevin and I, but especially Kevin, had some fun jumping off the high platforms and dropping into the water from a giant rope swing. After all, it was free! But as Kevin put it, it’s the Devil’s playground here, and there are no rules. We saw a girl having her boobs smothered by the faces of two guys, at the same time, and a girl who had cut her wrist and was bleeding profusely. Uh yeah, that’s our cue to leave.

The wheels on the bus

We all know the song right? Well, this version is slightly different - it's the bus-ride-of-death-in-Lao version. The wheels on the bus go round and round...except when it stops, and the minivan driver has to get out to make sure the hubcaps are still on after going over countless potholes. The wipers on the bus go swish swish swish...as if our ride up and down the mountain and making tight turns so we don't fall off the cliff wasn't enough, rain is added to the mix to make it a more muddy and slipperier adventure. The horn on the bus go beep beep beep...to swerve past near collisions with oncoming traffic, and when we have to come to a screeching halt to avoid water buffalo crossing the road. The people on the bus go up and down, up and down, up and down...which just doesn't do what our bodies had to go through for 6 hours justice. It's like riding on those old rickety wooden rollercoasters at Wonderland. You know? The ones that shake your insides and rattle your brain? Never been to Wonderland? Then think Shake n Bake. Except, the minivan was the bag, and we were the chicken.

Ok, enough with the song. But really, it was seriously the WORST ride that I have ever been on. And it's really a shame that we were riding in the dark, because I think the scenery outside would have been really nice. Nevertheless, we have arrived at our second destination in Laos - Vang Vieng, so famous for its tubing down the river (while drunk or high, or both, as some would like to have it) that it's become almost a right of passage for backpackers who travel in South East Asia. We weren't sure if we were gonna stop here at all, but figured might as well and check it out. The landscape's supposed to be stunning.

Oh, and just when we thought we were past the dangers of the minibus ride, we arrived at our hostel room, and were greeted with this:

Red rum, much? Yeah, we thought so too.

Happy December everyone!

“You’re our guest. We take care of you.”

That was one of the first things we heard when we crossed the Mekong River into Laos. After we were sent on our way by the people from the hostel we stayed in in Thailand the night before, we were met with friendly and smiling faces in Laos just across the river. One guy in particular seemed to be the one in charge of our big group of foreigners that just got off the boat.  He was super friendly, told us to “chillax” because we were on vacation, and even apologized on behalf of Laos people for the scams that they pull on tourists. Little did we know, he was just setting us up for his master plan of taking our money in the end.

After giving us a quick run through of what the slow boat will be like and some advice about what to do when we arrive at our destination for the night, he also informed us that outside the border cities of Laos and Thailand, the Thai baht is not widely accepted. After he had gained our trust, he offered to help us by taking our passports and the money we wanted to exchange to the bank and promised to return it back to us before we set off.  Now that I think back, it seemed so naïve of us to trust this guy from a travel agency whom we’ve only known for less than an hour. But hindsight’s 20/20. So I guess you have guessed what happened. We got our passports back alright, but were shortchanged about $30. When you look at it in dollars, it’s not a lot. But it’s the fact that the guy told us the exchange rate, said there’s 1% commission for him, but in reality gave himself basically a 10% commission.  Again, it’s not the money that we lost that bothered us, and things could have turned out a lot worse, but it definitely left a very bad taste in our mouths. It’s unfortunate because that was the first thing we experienced when we got into Laos, and it’s made us very suspicious, apprehensive and bitter of this country when we haven’t even really experienced any of it. But we’ll consider it a lesson learnt. And if any of you ever come here or this region, try not to deal with agents or agencies as much as you can, especially when it comes to parting with you money and passport. And be wary of the extra nice ones.

Before coming here, all that I read about Laos was how friendly and laid-back the people are here. We were told to bring our smiles as that’s all we would be greeted with. Well, smiles we did get, but it’s sad that I now suspect what other intentions lurk behind those smiles because of this one incident. I hope this suspicion wears off soon though, and that my initial thoughts are proved wrong.

Pakbeng, the village that we’re staying at tonight is right by the river where our boat is docked for the night. The 2007 edition of the guide book we have said that there isn’t any electricity here. But I guess things have changed since then and all the restaurants and guesthouses that dot the main street flash and flicker at you as you walk by. You can definitely see and feel a major change in poverty level here compared  to anywhere we’ve been in Thailand. This was immediately evident when, as soon as we stopped off the boat, there were bunches of kids running up to us asking us if they could have our Pringles chips which we were carrying in plastic bags. My first instinct was to say no for some reason, maybe because I was still feeling uber protective of our things (even after our 6 hour boat ride).  But when we ventured into the village later, we saw the same group of kids and gave them the Pringles, hoping that they would at least share with each other.

Tomorrow, we’re setting off on our boat again to continue our 6 hour journey to Luang Prabang. I’ve read a lot of really great things about this place as being one of the nicest cities you’ll see in South East Asia. So, I’m still trying to keep optimistic, but Kevin’s patience is being tested a little more every day.