Triple mint

"It's like Eskimo fairies blowing on my nether regions!" That's what Sean thinks of my triple mint soap. I think I've mentioned them before, Copa Soaps. I packed three bars, saving the triple mint best for last! I'm not fond of sharing soaps with people, really. Or tooth brushes. But on occasion, it does happen. Anyway, Sean was smitten. Go 'head, Copa.

I'm getting away from Hoi An easy. I only bought one jacket and one dress. We had planned to spend the day at China beach. Raining and gross, we took to the tailors. I guess no one will have these two new additions to my wardrobe in New York, right? And I'm flying out of the Danang airport tonight. Good bye, sleeper buses!

Just before we loaded into the taxi, Sean and Chen (one of our Israeli counterparts) jammed out. She plays guitar. Our going away song was "Leaving on a Jet Plane." I cried.

The uke

It's not easy this life. Well, I think it's much easier if you're lucky enough to have been born in a place like me. You can do things, travel the world, many things are just givens. But, I guess we all struggle in our own ways. Still, it must suck to see groups of tourists cruising your hometown if you can hardly leave it. Or do you see it, realize it's different, and prefer what you already have?

This afternoon, Sean and I met up with Andreas, a German from the Nha Trang boat ride. We sat in an open-air restaurant drinking beer, Sean playing his ukulele. He picked it up in Saigon. It's the best. Music. I love it. And miss it. At the restaurant, a toddler of a woman we came to know as Huong snuck out from the back and took over the ukulele. Giddy, he danced and played with Sean. And he ate a whole box of cookies. Good fun.

An instrument turns individuals into groups. A person with a guitar joining, voices, maybe someone has a drum or drumsticks or something. Walking down a street with an instrument, it's an instant hoot!

Hoi Anne!

Back on the night sleeper bus headed to Hoi An, the guidebook I have states that the stretch from Nha Trang to Hoi An is the fifth circle of hell. Great. One of the bus attendants strung a hammock up in the stairwell at the foot of my bed. At his insistence, any time I wanted to exit the bus, I had to climb over someone else in his or her bed. "Pardon me, bud, but you're working. Wake up. Move. Move. Please. Thank you." And piss off. Argh.

My blanket smelled soiled. And my pillow left my face feeling...waxy. Oh, the joys of traveling. The upside: I met a lovely Israeli trio and yet another bad-ass New Yorker! Funny how less than desirable circumstances can bring people together. We made it to Hoi An and scoped out one hotel before settling in at Hoang Trinh Hotel. The ladies of the house greeted us with cloths to wipe our faces (yes, still waxy) and glasses of cool water, even before the discussion of room and board began. Such a simple gesture, but so appreciated. It's so nice to be treated like a person from time to time, not just a disgusting, dare I say, backpacker. If you're in Hoi An, please stay at this place. A double is $12 a night with a full tub, t.v., air conditioning, internet, and the hotel even serves food. The upstairs rooms have balconies overlooking a Chinese temple. But really, the staff is what makes the stay worth it. They're just so nice.

Out and about, Sean (New Yorker by birth now living in Hawaii) and I cruised the town and the river. Hoi An is small and quaint. A city of wooden shophouses, streets and a Japanese bridge, and named a UNESCO world heritage site, it has some of Viet Nam's oldest remaining structures and streets. It's small and great for walking. And tailors. Hoi An is the spot to have clothes made. Mannequins of all colors and cuts, you can't imagine trying on winter coats, dripping with sweat. But it happens! All fit and cut for you, your measurements. This place is magic.

P.S. Did you see the classic pink Vespa??

Bites

To the islands around Nha Trang today, I hopped on a boat with 30 or so others. A short bus ride from town out to the marina, a cable car hangs above the water, spotted itself with a bit of garbage.

We snorkeled and swam for the first hour. Well, the locals drank beer, the tourists swam. In the water, I kept feeling small things biting me. Turned out to be mini jellies. Yikes! I'm not too big on lurking sea creatures. We lunched on the roof of the boat, squid, shrimp, spring rolls, spicy tofu. And after lunch came the entertainment. Our crew Viet Nam's number one boy band, our cruise director did a little karaoke in a coconuts bra. Hmm...

After the show came the floating bar and happy hour. Side note: it's always happy hour in Viet Nam. A life buoy chucked into the water, our bartender balanced himself and bunches of bottles of mulberry wine, served with a touch of pineapple. Too sweet for me. I met a couple from Sydney and a German, good people. The rule for the floating bar is that everyone drinking has to keep a foot attached to the life buoy, as much for silliness and to secure that none float off or drown. Our group turned into a chain of bobbers, all linked one to one. And I at the helm am amazed how much drag a baker's dozen of people can cause.

The clouds rolled in at our last island and we sat on the top of the boat in the rain.
Back in town the Aussies and I went to dinner at Mecca Restaurant. In usual form, I asked our host and server what I should eat. Canh Chua Ca is what showed up, delicious sour fish soup. When in Nha Trang, ORDER THIS! Carla and Chops helped me polish off the soup, there was so much of it.

Nha Trang

I got off the night bus this morning about 6 am to a swarm of motos and hotel hawkers. Walking has always suited me, even with a 30 pound bag on my back. I still haven't managed to switch successfully to metrics. Nha Trang is lovely. Beach? Hell, yes! I found accommodation pretty quickly and headed for a dip. My room is $14 with a balcony overlooking the street, a view of the ocean from one block away. There's a rooftop terrace will great views of the beach and town, too. While what I'm paying is probably expensive compared to what you pay traveling with others, I have to pinch myself from time to time, considering NYC prices.

To the Four Seasons cafe beach front in Nha Trang, I'm lunching on spring rolls and, yes, a cool beverage. Although, I imagine Viet Nam only has two seasons, hot and hot and wet. Ahh, what do I know? Yesterday, a woman shoved me out of her photo of Ho Chi Minh at the Parliament building in Saigon. I'm pretty sure she was Chinese. Personal and physical space here aren't a concern. Whatsoever. In Cambodia, people who bumped into you would turn to apologize but not so much here. Trampled, you may be, shoved, bumped, run over. Check yourself, before you wreck yourself.

Oh me, oh my...have I failed to mention Vietnamese coffee? Lord have mercy, it is the greatest thing on this earth...at least lately. Potent? Um, yeah. And they serve it with condensed milk. And over ice. Papa Joe Peek put it best. It is indeed "the elixir of the gods!" I'm up to two a day. One in the morning, and then the afternoon coffee. It's a culture here. In fact, I think it's Southeast Asian. Afternoon coffee. Fine, some of us may do it in New York. Or the US. But everyone does it here. Across countries. Across peoples. And condensed milk?! Delicious in your coffee. I have yet to explore its fat content, et cetera, and for now prefer to stay in the rich, bitter, cocoa-colored darkness. What we don't know, can't hurt us...cliche for a reason that I'm hoping applies to me!

Night moves

Viet Nam is known for having a good postal system...we shall see. So today I mailed out a whopper package for 1,000,000 some odd Dong. Yep, the money is called Dong. Quite efficient, a clerk behind the counter even packed the box for me. I haven't been buying tons of stuff, but it's a relief to unload as much as you can to lighten your load.

Here's what I've gotten myself into now. An eleven hour sleeper bus ride to Nah Trang. The bus has bunk beds, seven beds per row, three rows, two aisles running between them, each bed maybe six feet long and a foot and a half across. It's a sight. There's a shelf for your shoes, which the driver made me remove before entering the bus. Thank god I wore socks. It cost $23 for an open ticket of two overnight bus trips, Saigon to Nha Trang, then Nha Trang to Hoi An. It works out to about a dollar an hour, much like in Ecuador.

The all-night experience involves fifteen minute intervals of almost sleep strung together with speed bumps taken at such a pace that you're almost thrown from your bunk. That, in combination with repetitive blasting of the horn almost every five seconds spells a sleepless night. I have moved seventeen times, completed five full rotations. Were I the hands of time, I'd have circled the face of the clock following in synch minute by minute. We stop every hour or two as well for a break. I never thought I'd say it, but I miss the M14.

Seeing Saigon

I checked out of Yellow House Hotel first thing and into Kim Hotel just down an alley. Clean, a huge bed and balcony, now we're talking! A family run spot, they are all so welcoming. Oh, and there's a mini-bath tub, too!

I am a tourist today. First to Independence Palace, I toured what was set to be the fortress of Diem, who our guide referred to as the US puppet leader of South Viet Nam. Ok. The palace was build in 1868 originally by the French, refurbished by Diem, but finished only after his death. Built as the hub for receiving international and domestic guests, as well as housing the leader and his family, the palace has been left decorated as it was in the 60s. Conference rooms, a convention hall, a full bomb shell war room basement, a casino room, even an entertainment room with a view of the house chopper, the palace is a 1960s fortress. The dining room in the living quarters reminds me of my grandmother's house, now my uncle's place, totally renewed and refreshed. Leaning against the glass of the dining room I am transported back to Christmas dinners and pot roast. Fancy glasses and heavy silverware, soft light and gauzy curtains glowing in the light of dusk.

Next to the War Remnants Museum. First things first, you are greeted by US tanks and jets just inside the entry past the ticket counter. And once inside the exhibit, the first words you see are from the Declaration of Independence, also translated into Vietnamese. The stage is set, the ironies and atrocities soon to be revealed. Scary to say, I am thankful I haven't eaten yet today. My lunch would've come up. Walking through this museum, I alternate between shock and chills. It's a physical reaction to the visual displays. Disgust, horror cannot even come close. I am proud of my country and proud to be from my country. Looking at these images, war-torn bodies, you see what war means. Whether in the name of democracy, liberty, religion, gasoline, however complex, staring at the faces of the aftermath of war, it seems so unnecessary. I cannot imagine what it must be like to be a soldier fighting on foreign soil or to be a civilian living through a war waged in your own country. It occurred to me. What would happen if they were no armies? What would this world be like without any defense forces? Utter chaos? Or more harmonious?

The exhibit chronicling the devastation the war exacted on future generations was also gutting. Agent Orange and napalm not only affected those involved in the war at the time, but also generations to come. Birth defects in the children of civilians and soldiers alike, malformations, disease, reproductive malfunctions, limbs missing, it's hard to look.

Upstairs, there is also an exhibit about the journalists who covered the war, many of whom are still missing. Several countries sent troops into Viet Nam and several others sent journalists. Civilian, military and professional casualties, this exhibit is comprehensive and stark. I have never worn camouflage in my life and, from this day forward, hope I never have to.