Hanoi Syndrome

Hello from Hanoi! As you can tell from the title of this post, my plans changed a little: instead of heading to China through Laos, I decided to head to Vietnam from Laos, and to China from Vietnam.

Although I cut my time in Laos short, it was due to my being drawn to Vietnam rather than being bored with Laos. Laos is a very special country, and my experience there was what many travelers dream of having at some point on their journey: a chance to get below the surface, to become close with locals, to experience the "real" side of things.

Without a doubt, my time in Laos was made especially unique by the fact that my visit coincided with the Lunar New Year. In Laos (as well as Thailand and Cambodia), New Year celebrations revolve around beer and water, and last for three days (four this year, since the first day landed on a Sunday). In Laos, groups gather along the road, dancing and drinking beer, and tossing buckets of water at people passing by. It’s sweltering in the region, so I was happy to be soaked. Combine huge celebrations with a very warm and welcoming country, and I was in for a good time. On my first night in the southern town of Savanakhet, I went to a big New Year party at a club called “Dinosao” with a Lao friend I made on the bus. The party was complete with loud music, dancing, and the best beer in the region: BeerLao.

The next day the streets were crowded with people celebrating, everyone soaked with water. I rented a bicycle to be able to see some of the city farther from my hotel, but I should have just walked--before long the locals had pulled me off my bike, handed me a glass of beer, and gave me a bucket. I spent the rest of the day sharing beers and throwing water at anyone driving, riding, walking, or running down the street. Anyone except the police, who seem to be feared throughout the country (Laos is strictly controlled by the authorities; the people are forbidden to voice political dissent, and have a curfew (which seems to be loosely enforced during the New Year)). The group I joined for the water-throwing invited me to a snack of chickens' feet, then we were off in the pickup, hauling huge tubs of water in the back that we launched at the crowds we passed. Afterward, as the sun went down, we went to a great restaurant and had huge bowls of noodle soup.

The next day, as the celebrations wound down and the remaining garbage lined the abandoned streets, I arrived in Vientiane, the capital of Laos. The city seemed exhausted following the festivities--some restaurants and shops were open, but for the most part the town seemed a little bit hungover. It was when I began contemplating returning to a coffee shop to sit and read that I realized I should move on, and a though that's been nagging at me since I arrived in Southeast Asia returned: I should go to Vietnam.

I decided it was my obligation to go to Vietnam for a couple reasons: First, I worked with young Vietnamese immigrants and their families four years while in college. Second, as a US citizen and a student of history, I needed to see and experience firsthand the country that so significantly affected the US. So instead of returning to that coffee shop in Vientiane, I went to the Vietnamese Embassy. I got a visa in fifteen minutes, and had booked a flight within the hour. I left that evening for Hanoi.

Hanoi is a rough, tough, resilient place, but I'm very glad I decided to visit. It's difficult to travel alone here, especially as a Westerner. Within my first 24 hours in Hanoi, I was left on the side of a highway when I refused to pay a taxi driver who tried to rip me off, my paid hotel room was given away to someone else, I got in an argument with a receptionist at another hotel who insisted that I give him my passport overnight (I soon found out this is national policy, but they also accept a copy), and, to top it off, my ATM card was confiscated by an ATM machine. The locals were rarely sympathetic--it took me two hours to figure out how to take buses from the highway to a hotel since few people cared I was lost, and even fewer spoke English. But by the end of those first 24 hours, I was still fascinated by Hanoi. I felt like I was experiencing Stockholm Syndrome--even though I was beaten and bruised, I had no urge to leave. I wanted to experience more.

There really is something fascinating about this place; going to museums and seeing photographs of sections of the city levelled by B-52s, passing by huge billboards of a smiling Ho Chi Minh holding a baby (or, much more jolting, seeing an embalmed Ho Chi Minh resting in his mausoleum). I never shy away when people ask me where I'm from. They usually respond with an ambiguous "Oh, America! Very good, very good! Nice country!" And I wonder what complex thoughts and emotions underly those kind words. Fortunately, after spending many hours wandering in and out of restaurants, cafes, shops, and various sites throughout the city, I've met a few Vietnamese people who not only have a firm grasp of English, but who are also willing to answer the many questions I have. They emphasize that while the Vietnamese have mixed feelings toward Americans and the United States, there are few hard feelings still held concerning the "American War." They emphasize that the country has moved on. And the city itself attests to that; Hanoi is a city that is changing, and fast. Nonetheless, I can't help but notice the intense stares I get from the city's older citizens, which I don't notice from anyone else.

If there's one thing I could add to my trip thus far, it would be a visit to southern Vietnam. "The south is so much different from the north," a man from Ho Chi Minh City told me, "not only are we much better about serving visitors, but we also have a much stronger economy." Then, with a smile he said, "You know, we are also much more influenced by America than the north is." I was surprised to hear him say that, especially since I noticed a hint of pride in his voice. I remembered what a man who lives in Vietnam told me during my stay in Cambodia: "If the people in southern Vietnam have hard feelings toward America, it's not because the US was fighting there; it's because the US abandoned them."

For me, being in Vietnam prompts mixed, complex emotions that are very difficult to sort out and reconcile. At points I'm extremely frustrated, feeling like no one in the city cares about my well being. Moments later I have a knot in my throat, having seen images of screaming children running from a bombed, burning building that once stood a few kilometers from where I'm standing. Then later in the day, after following a huge crowd of people to an ice cream shop, I can't wipe the smile off my face. Kids on bicycles say "hello" to me, people are smiling, I overhear a young guy next to me say "Hi" to a girl from Taiwan. "She's so pretty!" he says to me after she walks away.

Today was a bittersweet day, as it was my last full day in Vietnam. Tomorrow morning I'll begin my journey to Guilin, China, by bus.

I was planning on posting photos from Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos in this update, but the electricity went out before I could upload all my photos. As a result, I only have a few from Cambodia:

The temples at Angkor:











A woman who maintains a small worship site inside one of the Angkor temples:



The girl who I mentioned in my last post, who could speak several languages, all learned from tourists. She's holding the letter she wrote me in Spanish (sorry, I would transcribe it, but I don't have it with me right now):



Check back soon for an update from China!

Cambodia and Laos

Unfortunately, there are no pictures to post--just a quick update. After my last post in Bangkok, I boarded a third class train and made the 5-hour trip east to the border with Cambodia (Aranya Prathet on the Thai side, Poipet on the Cambodian side). Third class wasn't too bad--it was packed and hot, but there were fans. It was a bit more difficult for me since I didn't sleep very long the night before, and it was impossible to fall asleep on the train. But the trip was a success--after a few hours I got off the train and was greeted by a multitude of tuk tuk drivers eager to take me across the border.

Crossing into Cambodia was very easy and uneventful. Cambodia now has a wonderful e-visa program that lets you apply for a visa online, receive a pdf reply in your inbox, and print it as an actual visa. The entire process took me about 30 minutes. Thank you, Cambodia! They should probably advertise this e-visa a bit more, though, since there was still a long line of frustrated people waiting to apply for a visa upon arrival.

Poipet, on the Cambodia side, is described as the "armpit of Cambodia" in my Lonely Planet. They weren't far from the mark on this one. It seems like everyone I met there was either smuggling something across the border (I almost hitched a ride with a couple smuggling shoes), or looking for ways to charge tourists an enormous amount for a ride in their taxis. I finally found a reasonably-priced car, and five hours later arrived in Siem Reap.

Siem Reap means "Siamese defeated," a ballsy move for a town close to the Thai border. The city is very warm and inviting, with an apparent French influence in its many cafes and restaurants. I had one of the best massages of my life there (yes, Khmer massage is better than Thai massage, in my opinion), and some great food. Siem Reap is the kind of laid back city that I could spend a lot of time in. But, unfortunately, I only had three days.

In those three days I spent the majority of my time doing what every tourist does in Siem Reap--visit the temples at Angkor! And for good reason--these temples, tons of them distributed around the area, are spectacular. I hired an incredibly friendly driver, Vebol, who advised me on what to see and when. On my first day, I saw the sun rise over Angkor Wat at 5:30. I also visited Ta Prohm, the temple that is struggling to survive against the many trees growing throughout--and on top of--it. On my second day, I returned to Angkor Wat to see the sun set.

Cambodia was very different from Thailand--not only is it significantly poorer, its people bear the very new, very deep scars of a gruesome civil war. Amputees frequently visit the town center to ask for money, since other avenues for earning an income are usually closed to amputees. Land mines still lie throughout rural areas, making solemn strolls unusually dangerous. There are multitudes of mothers and children that, instead of begging, sell inexpensive souvenirs and drinks in an attempt to make any money they can.

The children selling these items were very kind, which was wonderful as a solo traveler--there was always someone to chat with. I found that in Cambodia, children wouldn't get upset at me if I refused to buy their goods. Eating breakfast at Angkor Wat, a couple young boys selling guide books and postcards sat and talked with me the entire meal, even knowing I wouldn't buy anything from them. In the end, I usually gave kids a "tip" for their kindness, and the effort they put into selling. I imagine it would be easy for them simply try to beg, but they insist on trying to earn money.

And these children were oftentimes surprisingly smart and educated. At the last temple I visited, a less popular site where I was the only tourist, a young girl approached me with a huge smile and tried to sell me pants. I pointed to mine and told her I had some, and she said I needed Cambodian pants as well as the Thai pants I was wearing (yes, they were actually from Thailand). She asked where I was from, and before I had time to tell her, she was already listing the US state capitals. I thought I'd throw her a curve ball, so I said Colombia. She said "Bogota?" and started speaking in Spanish. She spoke Spanish extremely well, explaining to me that she learned from "turistas," that she also speaks Hungarian, Polish, and a little French, and that she's fourteen. She also tried to teach me some of her language, Khmer. She explained that although the word for father is "pa," she would say "po" because she's of a lower socioeconomic class.

On the trip back to my hostel, I imagined what this girl would do with the opportunities most American children her age have. What would she aspire to be and to achieve? What would she be able to give back to her country? It is absolutely heartbreaking to think that the abilities of this extremely gifted girl will probably go unrecognized in Cambodia, and will never benefit the girl's family or her country.

I ended up buying the pants from the girl. Afterward, I said farewell and tried to encourage her as much as I could in the few moments I had. I told her she is very gifted, and that she should continue studying hard. I also admitted to her that she's far smarter than most of the 14-year-olds I've met in the United States.

Cambodia is the kind of place that leaves visitors humbled. In spite of the horrors in its recent past (horrors that are still very evident: 40% of Cambodia's population is under 14 years old, since many adults were exterminated under the Khmer Rouge), it is never rare to see Cambodians smile. I think our world has a lot to learn from them; I'm definitely looking forward to my next, longer visit.

After too little time in Cambodia, I boarded a plane for Pakse, Laos. This morning, I took a bus to the southernmost point of Laos, near the border with Cambodia. This area is called 4000 Islands since it is where the Mekong River fans out, creating tons of small land masses. Today I enjoyed riding a bicycle around the island, and swimming in the Mekong at sunset. Today Laos (along with Thailand and Cambodia) celebrates the lunar new year with lots of singing, dancing, drinking, and soaking. That's right--I've already been shot point blank by two little kids with water guns, so I invested in one of my own.

Over the next week or so, I'll be making my way north through Laos, eventually crossing into China. A friend studying in Beijing invited me to tour southern China with her, so I'm having to hurry my trip along in order to meet her.

I hope you're all doing well. See you next time...

Last night in Thailand

Welcome back! Well, it's been a really great time here in Thailand since I arrived a couple weeks ago. Tonight is my last night here, so I figure it's a good time to post an update and a few pictures. A quick disclaimer: all these pictures are unedited, so please forgive any crookedness, etc. I have a habit of tilting my photos clockwise, so I hope your neck doesn't get sore looking at them.

First, here are a few pictures I took in Bangkok after making my last post. This is the view from the "river taxi," a system of boats that cruise up and down the river:



A local I met on Khao San Road, keeping the reputation alive:



While walking to my hostel, I stumbled upon a bunch of people flying kites. Everyone was so happy and friendly--it was the perfect place to be on my last evening in Bangkok:



Kites for sale:



Having some trouble:









After spending a little longer than I was originally planning in Bangkok (during which I wrote the last update, with photos), I caught a bus down to an island in southern Thailand. Thailand is blessed with tons of gorgeous islands, but not all of them are pleasant to visit. Islands such as Phuket and Ko Samui are renowned for how "disgusting" the tourist industry has made them ("Like Khao San road on an island: full of drugs, alcohol, and prostitutes," one traveler told me, and others echoed this opinion). So I started talking with locals and fellow travelers early on, asking for recommendations on which of Thailand's many, many islands I should visit, if I had to choose just one. The response was unanimous: Ko Phi Phi.

After an uncomfortable overnight bus ride followed by a two-hour ferry ride, I arrived at Ko Phi Phi. I didn't have a reservation at a hostel, but I soon found a reasonably priced, reasonably clean place after going door-to-door. It's difficult to describe the beauty of Ko Phi Phi--of course, neither words nor pictures can do a place justice, but I've posted some pictures below to help me out. "Vibrant" is a word that I think describes Thailand well, and Ko Phi Phi was no exception. The water was many shades of blue, indigo, and green, and the beaches were almost blindingly white. But I think what attracted my attention most were the lush, green hills that jutted out of the sea. While swimming, I noticed that the waves were full of little fish that occasionally launched out of the water. Even when standing in shallow water I could hold the fish in my hands.

The little boats (or taxis) that skim around the island add to its aesthetic appeal:









On my second day, I rented a kayak and explored some of the less-populated beaches:









Simply being on Ko Phi Phi and being surrounded by its beauty was a highlight of my trip. So I guess I could describe scuba diving there as a highlight within a highlight. The diving on Ko Phi Phi is said to be world-class, so I didn't hesitate long when deciding whether or not to do it. The coral was very colorful and vibrant (there's that word again), and the fish so populous that I found myself surrounded by huge schools of them. At one point I saw a couple adult leopard sharks, each about 12 feet long, resting on the sea bottom. As I was hovering a few feet above them, they began swimming in circles around me. Although I have to admit it made me a little nervous, it was really an incredible experience.

Oh, and as a little bonus, I found out that the beach from the movie "The Beach," with Leonardo DiCaprio, actually is on Ko Phi Phi. So if you want to see footage of the island, go rent "The Beach" (I can't promise you'll enjoy the movie).



A boat we passed on the ferry back to the mainland:



After a few days on Ko Phi Phi, I decided I had to tear myself away. I headed, by bus, back to Bangkok, then by train north (far north) to Thailand's cultural capital, Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai, which is one-tenth the size of Bangkok, has the same number of temples as the capital city. It is also known to have the best food in Thailand (spicier than the south). After a few days sunbathing on Ko Phi Phi, I was due for a little cultural immersion.

I arrived in Chiang Mai in the early morning, and, initially, I was underwhelmed. Having fallen in love with Bangkok, I felt like Chiang Mai was a smaller, more dreary, less lively place than the capital. But as the day progressed, I began to see another side of the city. At the end of the day, while writing in my journal, I realized that I had experienced more "highlights" during my first day in Chiang Mai than during any other single day in Thailand. I have a hard time describing what it was about the city that I found so special. The sights and smells, the general feeling of the place, the personalities of the locals I met (from the adorable family of three that served me sugar cane juice from the back of their truck, to the university student who interviewed me outside a temple as part of her English homework)--it all combined to create a city with a deep soul that captivated me.

Visiting a temple in Chiang Mai:













Words of wisdom hanging from the trees around the temple:



In addition, Chiang Mai will forever hold a special place in my heart as the city where I learned to cook and give Thai massages. Yes, you read that correctly. While there, I enrolled in a cooking course, and another course in Thai massage. I finally graduated from Ramen noodles! And it's true--the food in Chiang Mai really is spectacular, even compared to the rest of Thailand, so I think I picked a good place to learn. I just need to find a wok...

This is the meal I cooked. Hearing "I" and "cooked" in the same sentence sounds toxic, but these dishes were really, really, REALLY good (I promise!). Clockwise from the top-left corner is steamed rice, steamed fish in banana leaves, a sauce for the coconut curry chicken, chicken with cashews, and coconut curry chicken:



Chiang Mai at sunset:



I arrived back in Bangkok by train a few hours ago. It's currently 3am, and I have a train to catch at 5am. I'll take the train to Aranya Prathet, which is on the border with Cambodia. From there I'll walk across the border, then hire someone to drive me five hours to Siem Reap. If all goes smoothly, I should be in Siem Reap, Cambodia in about 14 hours (around 5pm my time). So why Siem Reap? I decided to spend a few days in Cambodia to see the Angkor temples, including Angkor Wat. In literature and through word of mouth, I've repeatedly heard how stunning the temples are, and I've been told it would be a terrible mistake for me not to visit them while I'm in the region. So I decided to shorten my time in Thailand by just a couple days, and to head east.

After Cambodia, things are going to get tricky. My plan is to fly into southern Laos (flying really simplifies the visa issue since I can get one on the spot at the airport, instead of waiting several days elsewhere), and to travel north into China using land transportation. The tricky part is that in a couple days Laos, Cambodia, and Thailand will begin celebrating the lunar new year, and won't stop for a couple weeks. That means not only will everyone be carrying water balloons and a water pistol (they celebrate by attacking each other with water--it'll be nice since it's so hot here), but also that transportation will be running much, much slower than usual, if at all. Worst case scenario: I'm stuck in a tiny, desolate town in Laos for two weeks, waiting for the next pickup north. But honestly, even that's not such a bad scenario. I'm pretty grateful to be able to experience the lunar new year here. All the locals are talking about it, and the little kids are already walking around with (empty) water guns. I hear it's a pretty big deal.

Farewell until next time.