Phnom Penh: Introduction to Cambodia

Over the last eight months many of our travel plans changed and morphed - we skipped Indonesia entirely, reworked our Japan itinerary, stayed twice as long as we had planned in Malaysia, added an extra month to Australia, and added a stopover in New Zealand.  Of course those are just a few of the changes to our plans; there were so many other smaller shifts and re-jiggerings while on the road it was sometimes difficult to remember the original plan, which usually stops mattering once you set off anyway.  A bus breaks down, you get kicked off a bus outside your destination unable to understand why, a city captivates you immediately, a city repulses you even more immediately.  Whatever the specific circumstances, real-life travel is rarely much like imagined travel at all.  And that is indeed one of the beauties of travel.  But one plan that remained un-fussed with and that we're glad about leaving alone, even though it would have been easy to squeeze out entirely because it was our last destination, was our decision to go to Cambodia at the end of our trip.  For many reasons, Cambodia has been the perfect place to end our journey.

We did not know much about Cambodia when first planning our time in SE Asia, but we knew enough about Angkor Wat and its surrounding, crumbling splendor to plan for at least one week in Cambodia between Vietnam and our flight home from Bangkok.  Now that we have been in Cambodia almost that full week, we can tell you that one week is not enough time to fully experience and appreciate the warmth and wonder that is the Cambodian people and spirit.  But for us one week is both perfect and necessary, as we are quite literally running out of time (something we didn't think was possible with eight months to work with) and looking more and more forward to seeing our friends and family as our flight home draws near.  We are also burning out, as bug bites, small ailments, and exhaustion have all beaten us into near submission.  We will hopefully come back to Cambodia to explore the path less trodden, which many other tourists skip (ourselves included) as they take about six or seven days to hang out in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap, just long enough to get a taste of the capital and thoroughly templed-out at the Angkor temple area.  Judging by the small, delightful taste we have gotten, we can imagine that if Cambodia had happened somewhere around June or July, or even August or September, we might have gladly tacked on an extra week or two!

Cambodia is a beautiful country that, despite it's difficult recent history, exerts a quiet, consuming energy that is surprising and infectious.  Our first stop, Phnom Penh, helped bring us closer to the country's culture, history and people, and we saw very quickly, even in Cambodia's largest city, some of the shining personalities Khmer people are famous for.  A waiter at one of our lunch-stops was so excited to talk with us and practice his English that he spoke with us for a good ten or fifteen minutes after we had finished and paid.  This was not a tip or any hospitality industry massaging.  This young man was genuinely interested in meeting us and learning about us.  He smiled and laughed and joked his way to getting our contact information so he can Skype with us when we're back home.  There was nothing but a real excitement to make new friends in his approach and discussions with us.  Beyond the language barrier, he was curious about us and what we thought about Cambodia (as well as the Toul Sleng Genocide Museum we had just visited, which will be the focus of our next post). 

PP is a city of over 1.5 million, but it feels a bit smaller - a la Vientiane, Laos.  There are many expats and tourists, as well as many busy roads and large buildings, but the city is laid-back almost to the point of lazy.  It is just a really easy city to be in, whether that means to live in, sight-see in, explore, or whatever you like.  Phnom Penh effortlessly becomes almost anything you might want it to be. Fancy restaurants and hotels for the snooty, really excellent and dedicated charities and NGOs (that help landmine victims, disabled Cambodians, and street youth find better lives using innovative and sustainable methods) for the giving, river-side bars and restaurants for the fun-loving.  Although cozy and friendly, PP has a lot to offer.


Also on offer, whether sought out or not, is an introduction to Cambodia's sad and often violent history.  Reminders are everywhere - from young children with landmine injuries begging on the street to museums grimly recounting the colonialism, civil wars, genocide, and upheaval that has rocked and divided Cambodia for the last 100 years.  PP can excite and horrify all within a matter of moments, but the emotional realities brought to light in PP are important to learn from.

PP captivated us, and we held our gaze for better and worse.  We stared and took note when PP surprised and warmed us with it's friendliness, culture, and big-city pleasures.  And we stared still, in a different way altogether, when PP terrified and disturbed us.  Undoubtedly and unreservedly, Phnom Penh introduced us to both sides of Cambodia - its dark, sad past, as well as its bright, hopeful future.

Vietnam, Land of the Bo Do

Pretty quickly during those first days in Hanoi we began noticing that a rather large number of women over a certain age, probably 50 or so, were wearing a sort of flower pantsuit.  They looked like pajamas, but stylish.  They seemed super comfortable and breezy, perfect for the heat.  And we were delighted by all of the colors and designs - the variety and utter awesomeness of these is hard to describe.

We mostly referred to these outfits as flower pantsuits, but apparently they are called bo do.  They are technically pajamas, but are socially acceptable (cool, even) to wear outside one's home.  And the bo do mania didn't stop in Hanoi.  Every city we visited, from Hoi An to Saigon to Hue, there were women rockin' the flowery sweetness every where we looked.  Our delight in seeing so many bo dos may sound like we've just gotten bored on the road, but there is something totally unique and awesome about these outfits, and the near-100% wearing rate among women of a certain age.  Part of the joy we derived from all of these bo dos came from the fact that some of the colors and designs seemed to be worn as a challenge for someone else to one-up the brightness or out-thereness.   In Saigon we started to notice more geometric and abstract designs, as well as more younger ladies with bo do fever.  We also realized that a great deal of the clothing, unsurprisingly, on offer at local markets were bo dos.  It was fun to check out the rows and rows, stacks and stacks, racks and racks, of bo dos as we strolled through clothing market areas in Saigon, toward the end of our time in Vietnam.

China had some flower pantsuit action, but not on the same level as Vietnam.  It's like Vietnam saw China's flower pantsuits and raised them one hundred billion.  More ladies wear louder, more daring designs in Vietnam.  End of story.  In Malaysia, we had enjoyed checking out the many different designs of tudung (or headscarves) worn by Muslim women, which were usually more conservative and calm than the average bo do.  The tudung we observed evoked more of an elegant beauty, often adorned with jeweled clasps and rhinestone embellishments.   The flower pantsuits of Vietnam were worn more for comfort and pizazz, with possible intentions of upstaging one's neighbor or friends with the "wow" factor of each design.

It is hard to describe in writing the pleasure that the sight of a woman with a particularly loud flower pantsuit on the back of a motorbike brought us in the heat and sweat and exhaustion of a long day battling the masses in Hanoi or Saigon, but maybe this photo will help:

 

Flower pantsuit-wearing lady, we salute you!

Phu Quoc

You're probably pretty tired of hearing about the beautiful tropical islands we've been visiting while the weather turns ever colder and wetter back home.  We have just one more, about our last few days in Vietnam.  Then that will be it for the tropical paradise posts. We promise!  (Though, there is nothing we can do about the string of warm, sunny days we've been having as we travel through Cambodia back to Bangkok for our flight home.)


Our last stop in Vietnam was the small island of Phu Quoc, which is just off the Southern tip of Vietnam in the gulf of Thailand.  It seems like Vietnam would like to turn Phu Quoc into a top tourist destination for the region, but there is still a lot of work to do on that front.  We liked quite a bit about this island - the beaches, the small towns with little to no tourist shine, and warm, warm water.  But the unbelievable amount of garbage - mostly plastic bags and styrofoam - that littered not just the beaches, but the interior of the island as well were difficult to overlook.  We noticed one of the crew members on the boat we went diving off throw a plastic bag into the water after we finished lunch, and he isn't the only guy on the island, or Vietnam, or SE Asia, who doesn't give a second though to dropping something wherever he happens to be when he's finished with it.  In the spirit of Stephen Colbert we have to give a "Tip of the cap" to mother nature for creating such a beautiful place such as the island of Phu Quoc, but a "Wag of the finger" to us humans for polluting and making it ugly with mounds of trash.  Hopefully the Government and resorts on the island will work to clean it up (as there are also a few nature reserves on the island) in the next few years in an attempt to draw more of an international crowd.


We'd also like to give a "Wag of the finger" to the million crafty bugs of Phu Quoc.  Some bug bites are expected in certain climates, but the full-throttle attack on Annette's hands and feet was unprecedented.  She left the island with twelve bites on one hand - which swelled to look a like some pimple ridden teenage version of the Hamburger Helper glove.  If Annette thought she could kill the bugs off with litter, the way it kills fish and sea mammals, she would have been out there with the locals chucking plastic bags and old batteries left and right.  (JK Mother Earth! JK!)  The positive is that Ben's Bug Wipes get a "Tip of the cap" from us, as Annette's hands and feet were often the only untreated portions of her body and the bug repellent could very well be responsible for pushing the insect front back past her wrists and ankles (though a some of the bites could have been sustained on the beach, where sunscreen, not bug repellent, was the priority). 

OK. we got the nasty, negative stuff out of the way, here's what we liked:


Fresh Seafood
There is nothing quite like eating fresh seafood recently hauled from the ocean.  And if you get the opportunity to do so at a table so close to the water that the waves frequently kiss your toes, all the better.  We had some really great, fresh fish on Phu Quoc, grilled and fried, whole and as steaks.  The people there (excluding the cooks at the last restaurant we ate, where we received a whole fish smothered in hot ketchup and diced veggies) seem to know how to cook good seafood.  The island's economy is still centered around fishing, and the nightly sight of bright lights on the horizon was a bit of proof since those lights come from local fishing boats that use them to attract squid.  We also had some very good squid while on Phu Quoc, which is normally not either of our favorites. If we ever needed proof that seafood is better when it's really, really fresh, we found it on Phu Quoc.  We give a wholehearted "Tip of the cap" to the fresh fish and sea-friends (as well as the hands that pulled them from the gulf's waters) we enjoyed eating so much while on the island.

Seeing the Rest of the Island
The best way to see Phu Quoc is by motorbike.  Neither of us have ever driven a motorbike, scooter, or moped but we thought a small, laid-back island would be the place to try.  We rented one from our hotel, but the way the front-desk man ran out to check on us as Jeff was getting the hang of the thing in the parking lot was the first sign that maybe this was a bad idea.  But we persisted, and convinced him it would be OK.  With Annette on the back, hugging tight, Jeff slowly bumped and swerved his way up the long, uneven road from our hotel to the main road.  The final stretch of this journey is a small hill.  Jeff took the hill like a pro, but once on the main road was unable to complete his turn.  We were really lucky that there was no traffic coming either direction because we sped across the entire road, making only a small arc, nearly hitting some garbage bins.  Annette received a small scrape on her right knee, but we kept the bike from falling over or getting damaged.  This incident was all the proof we needed that driving a motorbike on our own was bad idea.  So we turned the bike around and headed back down the slope to the hotel, Jeff leaving some man points back by the garbage bins (but he picked up some common sense points by quitting before we both got hurt or hurt someone else). 

The front-desk man, confident that he'd been right all along, booked us motorbikes with drivers.  This turned out o be a great way to see the island, especially since we would have spent most of our time picking pieces of the bike up from the side of the road, or gravel from our legs.  Our drivers happily buzzed us in a Southern loop around the island, and we happily enjoyed the ride.  We went to some waterfalls, the most beautiful beach on the island, and watched the rest fly by from the back of our bikes.  We'd like to give a "Wag of the finger" to ourselves for nearly doing something so stupid, but a "Tip of the cap" to the drivers and the front-desk man for bailing us out and saving our day!

Mysterious, Wonderful Blue Lights
Walking on the beach our first night in Phu Quoc we were distracted from the bobbing fishing lights on the horizon in the distance by some much closer, much smaller blue lights on the beach.  We noticed just a few here and there at first, but soon we realized that we could watch dozens twinkle in the dark of the night water.  We found our later that the lights are bioluminescent plankton, which create the light from within their bodies with a special type of chemical reaction, usually to distract predictors.  The detailed scientific explanation made our heads hurt, but the sight itself was amazing to see.  We didn't see it on the same scale as these amazing little guys can sometimes be seen, and we only saw the blue lights in the water that first night (though we saw tiny blue lights on the beach all four nights we spent on Phu Quoc), but we were amazed and delighted by the small, personal light show we were treated to, almost as a "Welcome" to Phu Quoc from the sea.  We certainly give a "Tip of the Cap" to Mother Nature for creating marvelous little creatures such as glowworms and bioluminescent plankton.

Diving
We did two fun dives of the Southern end of Phu Quoc and it was nice to get back in the water.  We saw a weird slug thing and a spiky fish we'd never seen before.  We're not really sure the real names for the new sea-life we encountered, but we suppose that doesn't matter as much as getting down there and swimming with the fish, which was really nice to do considering it had been several months since our last dive and we won't be diving again (at least not in 75 degree water) for who knows how long.  An emphatic "Tip of the Cap" to who ever invented scuba diving!

Doing Nothing
Sometimes life is about doing nothing.  Just sitting back, listening to the surf, and watching the clouds move through the sky is your entire day.  A good book, maybe some music, and periodic trips to the water for a dip to cool off should be the extent of your mental and physical activities for this day.  Nine out of ten dentists agree, a "do nothing" day is good for your soul.  Our last day on Phu Quoc must have been like drinking a five-gallon bucket of chicken soup for our souls, because walking down the beach to the nicest resort around for lunch was the toughest thing we did all day beyond stumbling down to the edge of the gulf to splash around in the calm surf.  It was a hot, hot day and our trips down to the water were many and wonderful.  The water was amazingly warm, like people from the Northwest can hardly fathom, and the clear water was always a perfect respite when we reached a tipping point on our heat scales.  There wasn't much to look at in the blue, clear water in the way of coral or fish, but we always took a mask so we could marvel at the clarity anyway.  We'd tip our caps to doing nothing, but that would expend too much energy...

Saigon is Ho Chi Minh City is Saigon is a Nice Place to Visit

Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) is the official name of the city most know as Saigon.  No matter what you call it, the city has a reputation for being chaotic and hard to handle.  We would have lost it at least once had we flown directly into Saigon from home, but perhaps because of our time in China, KL, and other pandamonious cities, we weren't as overwhelmed by Saigon as we thought we might be.  We were thrilled by Saigon.  We were disturbed by Saigon.  And one of us was even hit in the back of the legs by Saigon (via a dude riding his motorbike on the sidewalk).  But Saigon, unlike China, never made us cry or want to purse-slap the next person who honked their horn to notify other drivers that he was turning left.  We were never truly overwhelmed by Saigon - despite finding glass in our breakfast the first morning and the narrow alley outside our hotel being more of an experiment in putting far too many people, meats, fish, motorbikes, dogs, and other items in too small a space, than any alley we'd ever seen.

Saigon brought us closer to Vietnam's tumultuous history with two good museums, the Reunification Palace and the War Remnants Museum.  The closest either one of us came to being overwhelmed was at the War Remnants Museum, which Jeff could only describe as "exhausting" when he returned from his visit there.  But the Royal Palace was the opposite of it's more popular, darker cousin - a fun, light-hearted monument to the end of the war and an unmatched snapshot of a certain moment in time.  The Palace's interior design has gone untouched since it was taken by the North at the end of the Vietnam War in 1975.  It's decor is straight 60's through and through, and we found the fact that everything looked as it did in the 60s and 70s alternately bizarre, fascinating, and hilarious.  It was like being on a set for Mad Men.  There wasn't very much in the way of information in the Palace for those without a tour guide (us) or the ability to read Vietnamese (us again), but we were perfectly content in wandering the halls and rooms, inspecting the outdated fashion of the place - especially it's James Bond villains-lair basement, still decorated with computers, radios, and presidential war stations from times long since past.  We couldn't remember the last time we visited a museum that wasn't just restored to look as it did the last time it was in use.  This place doesn't just look like it looked when the Viet Cong took it in 1975, it is exactly how it was when the famous photo of the North's tank breaking through the front gate was taken, with the same fixtures, carpets, and furniture.

The War Remnants Museum was a unique museum in an entirely different way.  Unafraid to tell a completely biased story of the war crimes committed during the Vietnam War (called, appropriately, the American War in Vietnam), this museum was still moving, and was especially interesting for someone (anyone) who is more familiar with the American perspective of the war.  The museum undermines its own mission to preserve and promote peace by harboring so many grudges, depicting so many biases, and for not giving a completely accurate account of the war (predictably, none of the North's crimes or transgressions against the South are mentioned at this museum at all).  Sadly, the biases and demonization present at the War Remnants Museum are examples of the kinds of bitterness and hatred that lead to war, which is the opposite of what the museum is trying to accomplish.  The bias of the museum is its biggest weakness, though it still has some excellent exhibits that will make visitors think long and hard (and get sick) about war and its ramifications.  Jeff went alone to this one, and left feeling emotionally drained and shaken.  The exhibits about Agent Orange and it's continuing impacts on residents in sprayed areas was as unsettling and upsetting as anything he could remember seeing in a museum.  Where the War Remnants Museum succeeds is in it's unapologetic portrayal of the unnecessary and tragic brutalities of war.

When things got too heavy in Saigon, either too many horns, too much walking in the heat, or too much museum time, we did what we do best - stop for a meal.  Hoi An spoiled us by providing cheap, delicious food in hideous quantities.  There is no way to feel like you are getting an authentic eating experience in Hoi An because there are tourists everywhere.  Which is a good excuse to not even try.  But we knew our time in Saigon would be wasted if we played it safe and skipped the street-side plastic-stool eateries and sidewalk carts.  One of our favorite meals in Saigon was at a small, local market not far from our hotel.  In the daytime the market is alive with locals buying everything from coffee to toys to clothes.  One lesson we've learned on this trip is that where there is commerce there are people selling food, so we ordered items from three different carts at the front of the market, sat down, and enjoyed a

The best pho we had in Vietna

blue and delicious meal (it was made blue by the tarps above our heads that protected us from the sun, and delicious by the ladies that work magic with a gas burner and a frying pan, or a grill and a skewer).  Coffee in Vietnam is a true delight, and the iced-coffee at the market was one of the best we had in our three weeks there.  Vietnamese coffee is strong, but becomes something new and wonderful when stirred with some sweetened condensed milk and ice. The inexpensive and tasty nature of the meal (the coffees, for instance, were less than half of what you pay at a tourist-oriented restaurant) reminded us why we like to rub elbows with the locals when we eat (and the fact that two other customers of meat-skewer lady stopped by our table to help us get the right ingredients on our tables for the sauce for the noodles and skewers, and helped us prepare it correctly).

One other meal is worth mentioning here: lunch at a French bistro called Le Jardin, which is in a peaceful little garden in the middle of the city.  The location provided excellent atmosphere for lunch on a bright, sunny day, but the food stole the show.  We ordered mussels and fries, a salad, pumpkin soup, and parma-ham and melon.  We really weren't sure what to expect, because so often in Asia, the Western food delivered is not the Western food expected.  But we had secret high hopes since Vietnam has a history with French food.  Each dish was exactly what we'd hoped for when ordering it, the melon and the mussels even more so (the bowl of mussels we were served seemed destined to make us sick one way or another - either from food poisoning or from over-eating, though we ended up unscathed).  We left Le Jardin (a popular spot for nearby workers and expats, apparently as it filled up by the time we finished) just as it started to rain.  We didn't make it one block before it was raining so hard we had to stop under a tree.  The rain still wasn't all that hard, but it picked up again and we made for a makeshift tent made by a street vendor using a motorbike, a tarp, and a fence.  She beckoned us over a few times but we didn't want to cramp her already full quarters.  Then it started to REALLY pour, and we had no qualms about darting over to her dry haven to wait it out.  We exchanged smiles with the other shelter-seekers while we waited for the rain to let up enough for us to run to an awning and wait for a cab.

We ended up liking Saigon because it brought us closer to Vietnam's complex and troubled history.  We went back to our hotel in the evenings with numerous names, dates, and events to look up on the internet.  We found fuel to research the things that were omitted or skimmed over, to delve beyond our rough introduction to Vietnam's full history in the museums, buildings, and monuments of Saigon.  We left the city feeling closer to Vietnam's past than we had when we arrived, which is not something we'd really expected.

We had, however, planned on Saigon taking the wind out of us.  And even though it didn't overwhelm us like we thought it would, we were happy to hop on a small turbo-prop airplane and head to the island of Phu Quoc, just an hour's flight from the big city. We'd planned the relaxing island as a small recovery from Saigon, and fast-paced Vietnam as a whole.  But it ended up being the perfect place to unwind and contemplate the horrors, the wonders, and the beauty we'd seen and learned about over our previous 20 days in exciting, surprising Vietnam.

Giving Thanks

Being away from home the past eight months has given us plenty of time to reflect on the everyday things we are thankful for and often take for granted.  In no particular order, a few things we are especially thankful for this holiday season:

The holy trinity of public restroom amenities - toilet paper, hand soap, and paper towels (this gets us quite excited these days and, in fact, one out of three ain't bad either).  Home cooking.  Janitors (especially in public restrooms).  English menus.  Skype.  Climate control.  In-flight entertainment. Meclezine. Real Cheese.  Fresh baked cookies.  Anti-smoking initiatives and high cigarette taxes.  Personal space.  Dry bathroom floors.  Hot Showers.  Traffic laws (that are obeyed).  Potable water from the tap.  Clean sheets.  Months and months of no bug bites (Heaven!).  Sidewalks.  Sleeper trains and buses.  Coca-Cola with ice. (Orgasmic!)  Efficient public transportation.  Clothes dryers.  Price tags.

...Of course, we are most thankful for our wonderful family and friends - we can't wait to see you all in soon (we'll be home in just a week)!

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Hoi An

If Chiang Mai is the Acapulco of Thailand and Luang Prabang is the Chiang Mai of Laos, then Hoi An is the Luang Prabang of Vietnam.  Which isn't to say that Hoi An isn't a great town to visit. 

If you ever go to Vietnam (and we think everyone we know would love it - because, yes, we do presume to know better than you what is best for you) Hoi An is a must-visit.  Sure, it's touristic.  But Hoi An shines in more ways than one, and at night especially, when it literally glimmers with the light of countless hand-made lanterns and is becomes atmospheric and romantic as any city, Venice included.  Hoi An has plenty to love during the day too, as it is the best preserved example of Chinese, Japanese, and Vietnamese architecture in all of Vietnam.  The Old Town is packed with tourists most times of day, but it also holds a few quiet streets and alleys if you wander around a bit, and it was in those moments, when we found some more quiet areas, like a bench at the side of a temple or a small, less visited street, that we really started to like Hoi An.

A beauty of a heavily touristed town is the wealth of good, clean, cheap restaurants those tourists, and their stomachs and wallets, attract.  Hoi An and Sapa lacked the culinary risk and excitement of Hanoi, but eating out in Hoi An was easy because it had so many "safe" options (though we were ready for street food prepared in rusty pans over portable gas burners and tiny plastic stools again by the time we left for Saigon).  Another benefit, and easily the most important, of having so many tourists in one place is that it creates an opportunity for really amazing non profit organizations like the

White Lotus' truly feel good food

Indochina Project and Reaching Out to do good work (both groups are great examples of how tourism can be beneficial to developing countries and interesting to learn about, if you have a chance to click the links and see what they are up to).  We stumbled onto Project Indochina the night we left Hoi An when we ate at their restaurant, White Lotus.  We had been frantically looking online for something close to our hotel where we were getting picked up to go to the airport and came across White Lotus without knowing that all of  the profits from the restaurant go to PI.  Our meal at White Lotus turned out to be our best in Hoi An, and one of the most delicious in Vietnam!

One of the Reaching Out Artists

Our visit to Reaching Out was more calculated, though Annette's purchase of a gorgeous tea set was less expected.  That purchase led to us buying another piece of luggage to carry all our swag home in, as well as one last visit to Reaching Out and their workshop the following day where we were privileged enough to meet a few of the artists responsible for such a beautiful and unique piece of art.  All of the artists at Reaching Out are disabled and it turns out one of the artisans was deaf, so we tried to figure out the differences between some of the ASL signs and their equivalent in Vietnamese sign language (we figured out "Thank You" was pretty much the same in both, but we think he knew how we felt about his work and the tea set long before we made the gesture from our dumb smiles and genuine expressions of gratitude).

Annette prepares to watch some guy cook

Amongst a host of other activities, Hoi An is touted as a great place to try your hand at Vietnamese cooking.  Naturally, we were keen to learn a few tricks and hopefully make some of our favorite Vietnamese dishes.  The class we chose (Red Bridge Cooking School) is one of the most popular in Hoi An and was aimed at a different crowd, maybe for people who wanted to eat fancy versions of Vietnamese food in a nice restaurant over actually getting their hands dirty.  Which is okay, but we had been hoping for something a little more like the excellent cooking experiences we'd had in Chiang Mai or Yangshuo,  It probably wasn't fair to put expectations on our Hoi An class, especially because Vietnam has shown us repeatedly that it marches to the beat of its own drum.  All in all, the class was alright, it had it's good

We made the rice paper for these rolls, and can't wait to do it again!

parts, but we both agreed it was a bit pricey for the amount of cooking and learning we actually did.  We tend to prefer cooking classes where we get 1st degree burns, grease splatters on our clothes, and chilies in our eyes.  Classes where we cook something from start to finish, eat the results, and can talk about what we'd do different next time at home.  Most of the food was pretty good, but we were basically just doing finishing work after a chef from the restaurant impersonally and quickly demonstrated each dish.  The knives were purposefully dull, because the chef's boss "Doesn't want guests to cut themselves."  Give us a break, this is supposed to be cooking school!  We did learn a few cool things that we're excited to try when we get home, like how to make fresh rice paper for spring rolls and one of Jeff's favorite Vietnamese dishes, Banh Xeo (a rice batter pancake with shrimp and pork, sometimes accompanied with a peanut dipping sauce).

Fabric!

The tourist activity Hoi An is most known for is tailoring.  All of Vietnam, and a few other places in SE Asia, are popular for having clothes tailor made as the work can be extremely good and extremely cheap.  Hoi An used to be famous for its cloth, but now its tailor industry has exploded - there were 14 tailor shops in Hoi An around 15 years ago and now there are well over 650 shops.  People don't just call you from their store-fronts as you walk past, they occasionally drive up on motorbikes to solicit their tailor shop to you.  The rent in Hoi An's old town is apparently quite high, and the popularity of getting clothes tailor-made there created an over-abundance of tailor shops, some of which are fronts for sweatshops, and others are operated by people with little or no experience in the craft of custom making clothes.  Much of this darker side was unbeknownst to Jeff when he decided to get two suits made.  He made an attempt to ensure his clothes would be made under fair practices, but in retrospect, for other reasons, he maybe should have looked around a bit before committing to one shop.  We got a good feel for the first place we sniffed out and went with them based largely on the fact that the owner had been one of the original fourteen in town.  The shop has held a good reputation in the past, but our experience was of poor service, a debilitating lack of English spoken by the staff, not enough involvement from the owner (who was usually trying to chat us up about her hotel and other business efforts), and overall rough work on the suits.  They weren't awful, but neither of us felt like they were quite what we'd hoped for.  It is possible that they'll look much better after they are dry cleaned (which is apparently the solution to every problem we found with the suits, "Fixed after dry cleaners!") and we get to look at them in a new, detached light.  That is, of course, what we are hoping for.  Don't get us wrong, it was a fascinating experience - one that gave Jeff plenty of opportunities to blather and ramble about how to run a business (which is always entertaining, since he talks as if he has, but of course has not).  It was interesting to jump through the hoops and see what so many others go to Hoi An for.  Many have entire outfits, even wardrobes made in Hoi An, as they are famous for being able to copy a garment from a sample or photograph.
 

Jeff standing poolside at our first Hoi An hotel

As a microcosm for many of the places we've visited in the last eight months that are less well off than the Western world, Hoi An taught us a thing or two. It showed us the good and bad sides of tourism, right next to each other.  Tourist dollars can inspire people to create opportunities for others, but those same dollars can also give people dreams of making a quick, dishonest buck. On the lighter side, it also reminded us that while sometimes cheesy (like the "traditional music and dance" performance we watched) and disappointing (like the salad and service we had at the ever-popular Cargo Club), tourist-oriented towns like Hoi An have many things that make them a lot of fun to visit.  We stayed in two of our favorite hotels for our entire time in Vietnam whilst in Hoi An, and ate a few of our favorite meals there too (the aforementioned White Lotus dinner and a lunch at the Mermaid Cafe).  We continue to learn and grow as we travel, sometimes from unexpected events or places.  The tourist-driven economy of Hoi An opened our eyes to a few things and got us discussing some deeper topics between smoothies, perfect chocolate mouse cakes, and holding hands on a bench overlooking hundreds of  brightly lit lanterns.

Hoi An shines at night as thousands of handmade lanterns light up

Halong Bay

The number one reason to go to Vietnam is to visit Halong Bay.  Over 5 million people a year see the bay, but the sheer number of tourists (we went during a slower season) didn't harsh our Halong high at all.  The limestone karst formations that spring up from the bay's emerald waters never get boring, and to swim under and among them was an experience we won't soon forget.  The organized tour we took to Halong with had some issues, but no glitches or hiccups or delays could take away from the raw awesome that is Halong Bay.  Our tour spent the first day and night (of a total three day, two night package) in nearby Bai Tu Long bay.

Bai Tu Long Bay

BTL (as we'll call it) was less spectacular, but also way (way) less crowded.  The peacefulness of floating on a small boat amongst some still beautiful rocks and islands was undeniable and the fact that we didn't see a single other tourist made our whole experience that much better.  We had read that BTL was just as amazing as Halong, which is an untruth!  It is really pretty and beautiful in its own way, but Halong has a presence that BTL can't match.  There are huge (and we mean HUGE) bolts of rock springing up everywhere you look, often taking on mystical and intriguing shapes.  Halong at sunset was a whole other level of splendid.

Fishing Boats in BTL

We didn't go to a lot of the caves, floating villages, and famous formations of Halong.  But we liked it that way.  There were a lot of other boats around, but a late start to our first Halong day and a less structured sailing itinerary meant that we were able to swim off the boat alone and just relax, soaking in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

 

Our excellent guide, Mimi

Sapa

Men at the water buffalo market

Just a night train (and a windy mini-bus) ride away from Hanoi lies the cozy, resort-style mountain town of Sapa.  This is the place to trek to meet Vietnam's ethnic minorities, eat Western versions of Vietnamese classics (and a few undiscovered delights), and to explore surrounding villages and markets.

We spent one day in Bac Ha, a small town known for its Sunday market.  This market was unlike anything we had ever seen before.  Every Sunday, villagers from the surrounding hill tribes make the trek into the "big city" to sell their wares, buy or sell livestock, and stock up on everyday items.  Aside from the typical offerings of hardware, clothes,

Bac Ha market in full swing

produce, freshly slaughtered meat, and the odd souvenir stall, this market also had an extensive livestock section with dogs, pigs (more than a few of which we saw unhappily tied to a motorbike), chickens, horses, and water buffalo.  What also set this market apart from so many others is the colorful presence of the beautifully dressed Flower H'Mong.  One young lady pinched Annette's arm and brushed it a few times with her index finger to make sure that her pale skin was real (we think).  Even as she did so, we wanted to pinch ourselves to make sure we weren't dreaming, as the vivid colors and swirling energy made the market feel wonderfully surreal.

A Flower H'Mong woman rubs Annette's arm, surprised by her white skin

Water buffalo at Bac Ha market

Most people who visit Sapa do so to go trekking to small minority mountain villages, all surrounded by lush forest and unbelievable rice terraces, so we jumped on the bandwagon and signed up for a trek.  There are two treks you can sign up for at Sapa's excellent information office, and we chose the route less traveled by tourists.  Good choice!  We saw less than ten Westerners all day and were treated to the attention of villagers who had not yet been desensitized to the sight of tourists.

The little girl in front was the leader of these three attention-lovers

Our guide Tze and her three friendly, sales-lady friends

In the town of Sapa H'Mong women follow tourists everywhere joking and pleading for them to "Buy something from me."  We had three lovely and smile-prone ladies follow us for the first three hours of our trek.  They didn't try to sell us one thing until we sat sown for lunch.  We bought a few items and they threw in a photo shoot, four woven bracelets, and three grass horses for free.

Some of our favorite moments on our journey have been the ones we don't expect.  We didn't expect, for example, to spend half an hour in a H'Mong house in a tiny village outside of Sapa.  But our guide, Tze, finished our five hour guided trek at her home, where we were entertained by her three beautiful children and six puppies.  The entire trek was memorable because of the playful and curious children, enchanting scenery, and our lovely guide.  But the opportunity to have a conversation with her in her home (while playing some version of tag that involved the children trying to run by Jeff without being touched) was truly special.

"Don't-get-touched-by-the-foreigner" tag

We and Tze make three