On the Move

Bangkok Traffic

One of the biggest parts of continuous travel is the transport that takes you in and out of countries, through puddled city side streets, and out into the countryside. 

For me, figuring out new kinds of transport (which happens often) is a little stressful.  Do I need a token or a card?  Am I getting ripped off majorly right now in this taxi?  Oh you need that token or card that I’ve lost now that I’m at my final destination??

BUT, when I do figure out whatever system is taking me here and there and I finally get on it, I really, really, enjoy using it.  

Vietnam

In Vietnam, there were mostly xe oms.  “Xe” means motorbike and “om” roughly translates as “hug,” which is a cute way of calling (often) haven’t-showered-in-three-days men with no official uniform asking if you want a ride.  Having my own moto, I didn’t accept their offers too often, but when I did, it was a fast, cheap and friendly way of getting across town.  If you didn’t use the xe oms, you had to take a fancy taxi car, which was usually painful to negotiate and quite expensive as there were very few cars compared to the moto traffic. 

 

Cambodia

In Cambodia, I was so amused by their tuk tuks!  Once a bicycle and cart operation, Cambodian auto rickshaws are a three-wheeled sensation, and an essential form of urban transportation, especially for 2-4 person groups.  There were also moto taxis of course, for even cheaper than the tuk tuks - but no helmets!  (I discussed these more at length in this post)

Queuing in Vietnam was practically nonexistent.
Look how these skytrain riders file in from the arrows
on the sides!  Crazy!  

Thailand

In Bangkok, moto taxis were again a transport staple, but they wore official orange vests.  There were SO MANY CAR TAXIS.  For such a huge city, I figured most people would rely on public rail transit - and many do - but looking down on a jungle of stagnant traffic, there were multiple colors of taxis as far as the eye could see.  If you didn’t want to take a taxi, you could hop on the Skytrain or the underground mass rapid transit – MRT.  I used the skytrain every day that I was in Bangkok.  It was so intuitive and conveniently connected to many attractions in the heart of the city.  Plus – on those hot muggy days (every day), the Skytrain was the coldest place in the city.  After five minutes, we were wishing we'd brought a sweater. 

A Fastpack through the Big One

DAY ONE!!!
I'm going to TRY to blog SOMETHING every day while traveling.  Sometimes it might be small, sometimes it might be a ramble, and on some nights, I may have more time to put some decent effort into a post.

This morning started early with my darling roommate zipping me off on my last DaNang motorbike ride to the airport.  I tried to soak in the trip as much as horn-honkingly possible, but I knew I would be in HCMC soon anyway and get a good dose of motorbike terror on the backs of random nice-smelling xe-oms (moto taxis).  Sitting on the hard steel chair in our dinky airport, I tried not to be too sentimental.  I gave my roomie a giant hug, and some of the people from the restaurant I volunteered at showed up at 6am (bless them!) at the airport to give gifts and see me off.  They and the rest of my DaNang family were on my mind when our boarding call sounded throughout the terminal.  I slowly stood up and stood in the chaos of an attempt at a queue for plane ticket ripping.  Being a temp resident in Vietnam, I knew better than to expect a line - this is the closest I get to unintentional moshing these days.

The flight was fast!

Ho Chi Minh has some beautiful parks, right in the middle of urban life

Today I wanted to take it easy because a) no offense HCMCers, but I'm not huge into big cities and after living in VN for nearly a year, I'm excited to see other countries!  So I'm visiting a select few museums and calling it a day!

I might have started my day in a more cheery place, but my couchsurfing host was working in District1 and she said she'd look after my rucksack while I meandered around.  Her work was walking distance to the War Remnants Museum so that's where I started.

Finding Zen in Đà Lạt

During travel, what you see and do can leave a lasting impression of your trip, but often not as permanent as who you meet.  During my recent trip to Đà Lạt, I was able to spend some time with some folks you often don't see due to their lifestyle - monks and nuns.  

Đà Lạt is rich in abundance of pagodas and the landscape provides a sort of fairytale land backdrop for their archways, buildings, and statues to be nestled into.  The first one I stumbled upon, I was with Dyanne.  It was high up on a hill off of a main road outside of town.  After a few exchanged "hello"s and "we're from America"s, we started looking around at their own small plot of coffee plants, a building for community activity and one for worship, I heard someone say "Canada! Canada!" and we looked over as a beautiful girl with freckles all over her face and a shaved head approached.  With almost no Vietnamese accent, she greeted us in English and continued to explain that she had studied in Canada for a few years and that this pagoda was strictly for nuns.  We were visiting during a time of confinement - they would not leave the pagoda for three months.  Whew! That's a lot of time together.  

Culinary Adventures in Vietnam

While living in Vietnam, I made a promise to myself to become more open with areas in my life that were too guarded.  One of those was my culinary variety.  Being from Chicago, my friends (who are not vegetarian), family and I are used to eating and loving delicious, tender BEEF.  There isn't a lot of great sea food in the Midwest that seems edible, or, I decided that if it smelled like seafood it wasn't edible.  So moving to Asia was a strong introduction to many types of food.  I tried "typical" food like shrimp, crab, muscles and other eats for the first time but in this post, I'll detail a few culinary adventures worth noting...

Everybody's Gone Surfin...[Part Two]

Our next surfer wrote me one of the most unique and personal couch requests I've ever read.  With hers being the exception, most requests are pretty short, and the occasional nimrod will copy paste a standard request without any personal connection (take note new surfers - not desired).

She talked about what she was doing in Vietnam and what we had in common and why she wanted to come stay with me.  She even included my secret word indicating she had read my entire couch description (I noted it in the end).  Most surfers are of the 20 to 30-something variety as this is the golden era of traveling to faraway lands before commitments ground you to a home base until you're retired.

Everybody's Gone Surfin... [Part One]

If you're a traveler and you don't know what Couchsurfing.org is by now, you are missing out on one of the most brilliant programs invented since Craigslist.  Why is couchsurfing even better than Craigslist? It's free!  I know, I know, there is an inherent danger in sleeping near people you don't know.  Of the million people I host or surf with, the one rotten apple wouldn't have allowed me to have a "well, I won't be inviting THAT Bundy over for tea again" reflection. But I made a conscious decision during this adventure to trust people that I don't know, and so far, it has given me a wealth of positive experiences, none of which I regret.

Extreme Team Building

(Not my pic) Here's what happens on the ramp

My HR person at my work (who is like my Vietnamese mom here) organized a team-building outing to..er...well... the motivations weren't clear but the flyer said rafting so I said YES!  As you no doubt have noticed in previous posts, things are done a little differently in Vietnam than in most western countries.  Planning is usually amiss, sanitation is not always a top-three consideration, and common sense safety is just about out the window for most activities.  These three conditions in particular should have tipped me off to the inherent risks a new rafting outfit may present, but as a full time employee, my company was willing to pay for the whole day and vouch for my general well being during the trip.  Let's go!

A Vietnam Run

9:00pm.... 91 degrees.

Just put your tennies on, Kelsey.

Surely 91 degrees is an unsafe temperature to run in.  

I'll just go tomorrow.

Check the weather report.  More 91 degrees for tomorrow.  

If you're a runner, you know the magic of that crucial step in suiting up.  If the shorts and tennies aren't on, there's still hope for backing out.    

This blog post isn't meant to be a humble brag.  I've enjoyed quite a bit of laziness here.  Compared to my schedule in the states, life in Vietnam has been full of available, unfulfilled running time.  This is actually the first time in months that I've felt the desire to pour out some thoughts and experiences. I haven't felt a lot of newness to report but during my runs, I see a different side of Vietnam that I will surely miss in the coming geo-transition.  

It's 9:00pm.  My mom, who inspires me in many aspects of my life, whispers in my ear that I should just go put my tennies on and see how I feel.  I do it.  Ok I'm ready.

Guardians and Ax Murderers

I know one reason for American international absence: flight cost.  This is certainly not the case in Asia, and I'm pretty sure the planes here use the same fuel as the planes in the states.  It costs more to travel between US states than it does to travel between Asian countries (with comparable distance).  So with that being said, I was finally able to take advantage of this cost phenomenon during Vietnam's Tet Holiday.   Being a smaller city, Da Nang only has non-stop flights to a few destinations, and most of them are in Vietnam.  One of the only international options was Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - and why not?  I've never been there.  Booked.

Namaskar

My motorbike pulls up to the spaceship-looking building and a guard smiles and waves as if I’m a long lost friend he hasn’t seen in ages.  I enter the large opening in the building and directly opposite is a room full of mirrors and glass with about fifty sweaty bodies.  At first, I look away but I cannot avert my gaze for long.  They are wearing incredibly short spandex shorts and matching sports bras.  This must be a qualification for this room because the fit bodies and…developing…bodies are all wearing it.  The music is blaring and their hips are thrusting and gyrating.  Am I in Da Nang’s finest red light district?  No – I’m watching Zumba.  My roommate can attest to this suggestive workout as she is a bit of a regular.  I don’t realize I’m staring until one of them looks over at me.  My whiplash heel turn was probably pretty obvious.  I locate the dimly-lit room I was looking for and quickly flip my sandals off, spread my towel out on an unattended mat and assume the laying position everyone else is in. 

[Crap!  I’m late!] 

One minute later, the instructor speaks softly in Vietnamese and everyone rises in unison, grabbing their belongings to leave.  I’m not late.  I’m early.  And I just crashed this class’ meditation.  Awesome.

Playing in the Mud

Today was a very joyous day.  If there is one thing that I miss more than Mexican food - more than driving a car - more than game nights - it's pottery.  My life was consumed by clay up until the last week before leaving America.  I taught wheel throwing, I sold my ceramics, I had clay parties and get-togethers at my apartment - it's an understatement to give clay the name "hobby;" it was a big part of my life, and my happiness.
So when I moved here, its absence left a pretty big, muddy hole.  I'm ashamed to say that I didn't know that the Thanh Ha Pottery Village existed until a month ago, and that I hadn't visited until today.  Rain or shine, Andy and I were on a mission to visit.  (It rained).  The cold, wet day put no damper on our spirits!  We found the village 45 minutes away - just West of Hoi An.

Reconstituting clay with his feet!

At first, it didn't look like much.  We drove around until one woman waved and said hello from her yard.  "Why not?"  I said.  We parked our bikes and ascended the steps to her home.  There were molds everywhere and lots of greenware (unfired clay) piled on the ground and in rows on shelves.  Feeling slightly disappointed that this family only made mold duplicates, I was still appreciating seeing their process and their mammoth kilns.  Considering the amount of greenware waiting around, I'd imagine they only fire it up once in a great while.  Stepping inside their compound, I witnessed a woman sitting on a stool, carving holes out of a giant mold vase.  She didn't mind our presence and continued to carve after offering a smile and "lantern" explanation.
Stepping into the next room, I finally found what I had been looking for.  An unattended large disc on the ground with an accompanying squat stool.  I knew what I was looking at.  The most primitive wheel I will ever have the privilege to throw on.  The woman saw my smile and pointed with raised eyebrows.

"Dạ! Dạ!" (Yes! Yes!)

Are You Readyyy

There are certain things that are hard to imagine about living abroad until you're living abroad.  You know you will eat new foods and meet new people and maybe your shower will be strange like in Lost in Translation.  One thing I had not thought about was Total Peripheral Lingual White Noise Tune-Out (or, TPLWNTU - still working on a shorter name!)

It's natural to overhear other people's conversations when everyone around you is speaking your native tongue.  This gal is arranging a workout time...this guy is having a meltdown with his co-worker...this youngin is throwing a fit over the toy he's being denied... but when you have no clue what anyone is saying, the sounds all fall into the non-lingual grouping of motorbike engines, dog barking or car honking.

At first, this phenomenon made me nervous.  What if they're talking about me?  What if I'm about to be scammed?  But then I learned to love it.  If someone's talking about me in Vietnamese, they can speak as loudly as they like because I wouldn't understand or acknowledge it.  If I want to work and plan lessons in a cafe, I'm not distracted by any conversations that I can't understand anyway.

One area of particular tune-out has been neighbor interactions outside our windows.  We have permanent openings to the outside in most rooms and so neighbor noise is pretty common - especially in the morning.  No one around us speaks English, so the squabbles and singing and yelling and conversing is all Vietnamese... until yesterday morning.  I was getting ready to start the day when, out of no where, I heard a very clear and undeniable English question trumpeted outside my window.

ARE YOU READYYYYY!!!

And that was it.  

Fully Mended

Clichéd sayings don’t really feel validated until you experience them.  You know that popular one about valuing your health (especially when you don’t have it?)  I've never been so happy to feel healthy again.  After two bouts with flu-like fevers, food poisoning, infections, allergic reactions, and strep throat, my list of fun added another teacher favorite – pink eye.  Recognizing this really sexy infection the moment I woke up, I knew that I wasn’t going to spend the $60 to see a Western doctor.  I knew it was pink eye.  That left one other option: the Vietnamese hospital.  I figured I’d do it at some point, why not now? 

My very lovely Vietnamese teacher assistant went with me to the hospital that day. 

Big, white, and bustling with people even during nap time, the hospital visit felt like a field trip.  I was experiencing health care like VN residents.  I waited at the receptionist counter while several women in white processed paperwork and took my insurance card.  Then, I turned around and had my blood pressure and heart rate checked by machines right in the lobby.  After paying a small fee, we got into the elevator, but not without two technicians and a young girl, maybe 17, laying on a stretcher with an IV drip.  In the eternity it took to ascend four floors, I listened to this girl with her eyes closed and a barely-there labored breath, wondering what her condition was at such a young age.  My laundry list of recent illnesses suddenly seemed so trivial.

Chúc mừng năm mới!

New Years Eve, I started out workin' hard for my money - a four-hour block of classes, scheduled to end at 9:30pm.  A highlight was that only two adults showed up for the second class, allowing us to conduct a very personalized speaking-centered two hours.  After class, I rushed home, changed into a sparkly top (which I then covered up with a homely-looking sweater of course) and headed out to meet a great friend for drinks at one of the swankiest restaurants in town.

The Memory Lounge

I'm...dreaming, of a wet Christmas...

I saw the bells and the lights and the Christmas trees on the backs of motorbikes, and I heard the classics and plans of good cheer and I Just.  Couldn't.  Feel it.

"Aww, is this your first year away?"

asked a seasoned expat friend.  Sigh, it is.
The last couple of weeks have been a little tough, tougher than I had anticipated.  I debated including these woes into the blog and decided it was a good idea after all.  I made the decision to move out here and accept the ups and the downs.
So I got involved in as many Christmas-y festivities as possible - mission force the feeling!!

Rise of the Spiders

It has been quite the eventful week of seeings and doings so I figured I'd jot a few of them down.  Our weather has been impeccable, and my dad and I jumped through a few hoops getting my slackline shipped out to Da Nang (long story about never sending anything with text or maps through the mail

), so I took to the beach in search of the perfect place to set up and have some chill time with the line.
This proved to be slightly more difficult than I had anticipated.  I needed the right distance between palms, a soft landing level ground, and preferably out of constant sight.  As a westerner, I get enough stares as it is, I didn't want to attract even more attention, especially since I hadn't slacklined since July.

Lately...

I have been meaning to sit down and blog for the last couple of weeks.  Sometimes it seems that I just can't find the words for things that happen, so here are several snippets of happenings:

Thanksgiving:  Many countries have celebrations of their own for thankfulness, especially when connected with the annual harvest, so celebrating Thanksgiving in Vietnam wasn't so far of a stretch.  We also have a handful of American and other western expats living in Da Nang, so many of us came together for a traditional plate of delicious food at Bread of Life.  I had turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, rolls, green beans and even pumpkin pie!  The one BIG difference between T-Day in America and T-Day here is that I had to go to work two hours later, feeling the full force of turkey pulling down my eyelids.  

Floating

I always look forward to Mondays and Tuesdays.  The weekend shifts at school are early and high-energy, so Monday brings much needed relief and relaxation.  This Monday morning, I was enjoying the soothing sound of pelting rain as I surfed the net and watched a movie, but then I heard a different kind of *drip..drip…splat.*  With a large fish tank gurgling in the room and the downpour outside, I chose to believe this new dripping sound was part of one of those...until I heard it again…and turned my head to the left.  A small trickling turned into a steady stream of water pouring from the second floor through the middle of the staircase onto the tiled first floor. 

Oh… crap

My, my our time flies. 100 DAYS!

 Gettin my hurr did...

The last two weeks have been full of guests and warmth here in Nhà KelseyStacey.  For the first time since moving, I was able to play host and tour guide for DaNang and her surrounding cities.  It has been fun showing friends my favorite restaurants, going to the beach, hanging out in local bars and sharing our home.  Some of the smaller highlights of living here almost go unnoticed now that I am so familiar with them, such as ushering a frog off of the coffee table before we eat, or complimentary lounge chairs on the beach.  Guests help me re-appreciate these wonders as they experience them for the first time.  As much fun as I’ve had with the visitors, today I said goodbye to my dear couchsurfing friends, and realized how tired I was!  Time for a little much-needed pampering. 

It has been four months since anyone has touched my hair, and boy did it need some attention.  I was really worried about finding a salon because, without a language barrier, getting across what you want someone to do with a pair of scissors is scary enough.  I would have to surrender all control over what I think my hair should look like.

And then Scrabble became more than just words...

I love Scrabble.  And Scramble.  And Bananagrams. And all other games that foster strategy through the use of language.  I don't enjoy dominating the world in Risk.  I'm not huge on the capitalism of Monopoly - but I do love language - and I miss playing these games.  I thought, moving out of the country of my native tongue, I would still find wordsmiths in a new family of English teachers.  Sadly, this has not been the case.  I toyed with the idea of posting an ad in Bread of Life:

WANTED:

WORD NERDS

Buuut I was draggin' my heals on it.  Then, last Thursday night while volunteering at BOL, one of the Vietnamese girls I close with [out of the blue] asked "Do you play Scrabble?"  I hoped that my verbal "yes" was more toned down than my mental "HELL YEAH!"  She said that was great, and that she'd bring her game next Thursday.  

Enter: Tonight.

I arrived at my usual time ready to eat my Thursday night western dinner.

[Which, side note, I don't think I can do anymore.  Since living here for a while, I've become incredibly accustomed to and in love with Vietnamese food.  Tonight was the final nail in the coffin of Western dinner as I showed up starving to BOL and only had five bites of my eggplant burger.  They make very yummy food but greasy french fries and breaded eggplant isn't working.  When I have pizza here I don't wake up feeling great the next day either.  Vietnamese food is always a balanced medley of starch, vegetable and meat.  When these powers combine, my body is captain digestion and feeling oh-so-good.  Not to mention all the prepared food here is fresh from the market - not processed or packed with preservatives.]  

So I found my regular booth next to the cash register and flashed Thu a smile. 

"Got the game?"

"Of course!"

Now, the way I play Scrabble is of the vicious variety.  I like competition and the best opponents for me will provide a somewhat balanced win/lose streak.  As I sat down with my very sweet, English language learning friend, I put away my Scrabble fangs and competitive drive. I realized how grateful I was that this prayer had been answered - even if not quite in the way I was hoping.  I didn't even flinch when it was apparent that we were not going to be keeping score.  

And then something awesome happened.