Monday's routines.

      Despite what you see on YouTube or read here, daily life is still routine no matter where you live. However, the possibility for adventure is what motivates me to live here. Let's take yesterday for example.

     Usually Mondays are off days for me, but for the next two months this isn't the case. Luckily, I'm not busy during nights though. So after my commitment was over at 4:30, I hopped on my bike and headed home. Then my bike wouldn't start. I called my mechanic and he took it back to his shop after about twenty minutes of trying to start it. Somehow it was waterlogged, and I was pissed that I wasted time. I'm getting down to the wire of switching bikes or going back to the more reliable Honda Dream. I rode it today and it felt great. Definitely sturdier and more maneuverable than the flimsy 67.

    I hopped on a xe om and proceeded to the New World Hotel to meet up with John. I stood in the park across the street for a brief under the rain to appreciate Saigon for what its worth. Traffic was intense, and I was trying to relax from the ride. That was a nightmarish ride. I seriously have a hard time with the notion that people commute in the storm of traffic in storms on a daily basis like this. It was miserable. I wasn't even doing the riding. Fortunately, the near misses were only a few in between here. In other words, I only almost died a couple of times in traffic on that xe om ride.

     The rain was trickling down at a steady pace. I didn't bother to get cover. I was starving. I saw John from the distance and some guy was taking a piss by John's car. His urine was being blended into the puddles next to the driver entrance side. When he saw John, he finished and tucked himself into the driver side. John banged on his window while asking him why he didn't use a public bathroom. John couldn't get into his car so he had to crawl through the backseat up. Security eventually came to figure what the hell was going on. I didn't film this because the rain was now coming down hard.

      Since our usual barber was nearby we decided to go get an ear picking because John will start an ear picking channel in the future. We wanted to film footage for it. I didn't really needed a haircut, but since I was here, I obliged. So after a quick hair washing to get all the Gatsby gel out of my head, I had a quick trim, and a quick ear picking even though I was relatively clean. I'm slowly becoming addicted to it like John. That wrapped up in about an hour and seven dollars later (I'm a big tipper) we were off to find some food.

      By then I was ravenous. We drove aimlessly around and around hoping to see something that looked appealing. How can we be two skinny dudes in a city full of food? Maybe it's because we don't want the runs from street food?  After an hour of driving through Chinatown and gazing at the nightlife we were just going to go back home to eat Carl's Jr hamburgers. Nothing looked good. Then I suddenly remembered Mike Along the Mekong's recommendation of bo kho in District 10. We were ironically around the area and quickly found this little bo kho stall in the middle of a flower market street tucked in another classic Vietnamese alley. It was some pretty decent beef stew, but in America, the bo kho broth is of thicker consistency and people just eat it with bread. In Vietnam people were eating bo kho with noodles. WTF RIGHT?! I ordered two bowls and wolfed down a loaf of bread. With some nuoc mia to wash everything down, I started having a stomach ache. Oh No.. street food strikes again. John's sensitive stomach was starting to have problems too.

      We got out of there quickly, and I remembered that the Nikko Hotel had a pretty awesome jazz piano player so we pulled over. Oh yeah, they also had pretty nice bathrooms. So approached the lounge like ballers with backpacks and the pianist wasn't there. Then John and I shared precious moments in the bathroom. How did we go from the ghetto to something straight up from Japan with automatic bathroom doors? It's amazing. Vietnam.

       Instead of sitting down and paying five dollars for drinks our stomachs couldn't handle, we just stood outside the premise of the lounge and stole jazz music with our ears. Then things got boring quick, so we walked over to the Now Zone, which actually shares a side door with the Nikko Hotel. I couldn't help looking at some watches. Then we walked over to Coffee Bean and ate a mediocre bagel with unspreadable cream cheese.

      Then we went back home.

A new lease on life.

        I signed paperwork and deposited some USD this morning as I signed a new apartment lease. My current apartment is incredibly spacey with two bed and two baths. Unfortunately, John's time in Vietnam is up in the air. He doesn't know when he'll go back home or if he'll stay. So with the lease currently being up, we decided that it was time to do what's best for me. My new place will be under my name and I'll hold all responsibilities on it. It's a big step up. This place is smaller, but the furnishings look a lot nicer. My current landlady seems like a real bitch. I'm glad to move out of this place. The new place only has one bathroom though, so here comes the real challenge of sharing. Even when John leaves, I'm pretty sure I won't try to find a roommate. I honestly can't trust anyone here, may they be a foreigner or a local. I've seen too many Dateline episodes to end up on one myself. My new real estate agent seems nicer. She seems like she's willing to bend over backwards to help me. I negotiated for an ironing board to no luck. But best of all, I'm much higher now than before so I don't have to deal with the pedestrian noise in the mornings and in the afternoons. If John isn't there, I'll be paying about 70% more than what I'm paying now, but that's okay. I kind of like my privacy despite being such a whore online. Oh, the ironies of whoring online.

     One thing I've noticed a lot lately is that there are quite a few women drivers here in Saigon. I've seen them in practice vehicles, trucks, and recently, taxi drivers. Something interesting that's all. I still get excited when I see a woman drive. I've been here too long.

    I'm releasing the Cat Tien travelogue very soon, but I'm doing it slightly differently this time. I hope you guys will be able to support me through the process.

    The next two months will really test me as an individual. The amount of work I'll be attempting is going to be absolutely crazy. But I'm all in. This is why I'm here. I'm here to make a difference in the lives of individuals. But things are actually pretty slow here. Many Koreans went back to Korea this summer because airfare was so cheap. That means business isn't all that great. Money's not all that great either because of that. Sometimes I feel annoyed at how I have to learn how to be an adult in Vietnam. But sometimes I'm glad, because I have a lot of leeway here to make mistakes. I've made quite a few. Though, I won't kick my self too hard for them because I know life isn't about regrets. Go with the flow and learn. And learn and learn.

A contradictory walk.

    I love women with a lot of thick flowing hair on their head. Long or short, it doesn't matter as long as it's lush and bulky. Long flowing hair is awesome. On the other hand, I hate hair on women everywhere else, especially on the arms, knees, lips, and eyebrows. I'm a fan of grooming, even though I'm pretty hairy myself and I never shave my face too closely because of irritation. The whole five o' clock shadow thing works best on me. Though, maybe I'm more of a 9'o clock kind of a guy. Whenever I suggest for girls to shave, they ask me how come I don't shave my legs first. I give up.

   I get turned off by Vietnamese girls who are too westernized and have forgotten their roots. I can't stand white-washed girls who refuse to speak Vietnamese or pretend they don't know any because they are too embarrassed of their cultural lineage.  At the same time, being near girls who are too Vietnamese is rather unbearable for me. If someone is too culturally Vietnamese, then I think they are too old fashioned and completely unrelateable.  Finding women that are tweeners like me are pretty rare and pretty much non-existent in Vietnam. They just have to find me. I'm into someone really passionate about Vietnam, but at the same time aware enough to see the negatives as well as the positives.

   I can't seem to make up my mind about whether or not I'm USA Pride or AZN Pride. I value some aspects of being Asian, but at the same time, I'm glad I grew up in the western world. America has been looked down upon or its imperialistic views within the last quarter century, but as a whole, I'm fond of America. No place is perfect, but I'm sort of trapped in between stages where I tout myself as an American, especially in Vietnam. However, in America, I'm all about being Vietnamese- from pho to conical hats. In Vietnam, I'm all about hamburgers and eagles, and I don't mean Eagle brand green medicated oil either. Ya'll know what I'm talkin' about. In Vietnam I have to prove that I'm America. In America, I have identity issues.  Damn.

 

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With everything around me.

         With all the food around me, sometimes I'm amazed that I am constantly starving. When I got home at 10 PM John was waiting for me, and we hit the town with no plans. I was starving after I unsuccessfully ordered a chicken sandwich because it was out, and they didn't bother to call me back about it. 40 minutes passed and we were out.

          The steady rain that started two hours earlier hadn't ceased. The roads were strangely full heading towards District 4 from District 7. Cars were driving a lot slower, and people on bikes looked like they would wipe out any minute. Out of no where a guy on a bike was in the middle of the road. John had to swerve to his right and a man and woman who tried to squeeze their way in almost got hit. They placed their hands out to keep their balance. Their hands smacking up against up against the car. They were an inch away from getting hit. Another close call.

      I was starving. I hadn't eaten in ten hours. I tend to do that when I'm in the midst of intense work. My dad's the same way. We pulled up to this busy storefront with a banh mi assembly line. Several people decked out in plastic rain ponchos on their motorbikes blocked the view, so I stood behind them wondering when it would be my turn. I'm still not used to not getting in line. John walked up as if it was his shop and shouted out orders. About 15 minutes later and ordering three more times we finally got our order right.

      John didn't want me to eat in his car. He had just gotten it vacuumed moments earlier. So we drove around and got lost for over 20 minutes before we decided to just pull over randomly at a park and chowed down on the banh mi. Not being able to eat something that smelled so good that was literally a few inches away from my face was torture. I was starving. I wolfed down two down with force and washed it all down with a cold Coke while watching rats scurry along the pavements. The rain was trickling down with minimal force, but this was the kind of rain that would last all night. The humidity disappeared with the earlier emergence of the rain. The air felt cold against my skin, and I at times I found myself shivering a tad bit. A white couple sat across the street in front of their inn and gazed towards our direction at the traffic that whizzed that splashed water up into the air. We stood underneath a protective awning near a public bathroom that barely provided any shelter. Two other vagrants also had similar ideas. John and I looked at each other and I told him that I would take on the tall guy while he should start with the shorter and darker dude. Then the tall guy left and the short transient squatted down and the three of us shared the space together with the rats for the rest of the time while glancing at each other not sure of what to make of each other.

    Moments like these make me appreciate life so much.

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A living legend

        Sometimes finding something to eat on vacation is a drag. Restaurants in Vietnam tend to be hit or miss. After browsing around cyberspace I decided on getting some fish and chips in Da Nang. Not very typical Vietnamese, and I know some of you will give me a hard time for that. But one can only handle pho so often.

       Around noon when the sun was beating down harshly, Kim and I found a little restaurant opposite My Khe beach. When we sat down I noticed a local Vietnamese man and a white dude conversing. Without much thought, aside from the fact that they reminded me of me and Kim 30 years down the road, we sat down and ordered fish and chips.

        Then suddenly the man walked over and started speaking to me in English. I was kind of impressed, but somewhat annoyed at the same time. Then he introduced himself as Hoa. Almost instantly, my face lit up as I realized just who was standing table side.

      Hoa is a famous individual who once operated a guest house along the beach. Backpackers and travelers all over the world sought him out just to stay in his company. His guest house offered night time buffets away from the touristy trinkets and beads. But more importantly, visitors had a chance to hang out with a living legend himself.

     So what's with all the hype? Check it out for yourself.

a North Korean experience

     North Korea is a pretty isolated country. You know this. But did you know that there are North Korean restaurants all over the world? There's one in Phnom Penh and strangely, there's one in Da Nang out of all places.

    Now people don't go to North Korean restaurants for the food. They come for entertainment values.

  This particular North Korean restaurant is located at Crowne Plaza Resort, which is catered heavily towards the Chinese who want to get their gambling genes on. Rooms range anywhere from 100 and up, which is actually quite affordable for the returned quality. I've never paid that much for a room yet, but one day I will .

   The restaurant is situated towards the side of the front entrance, so the walk in can be a little intimidating after a flight of spiraling stairs. Walking outside into a separate compound, I spotted two Korean women decked out in colorful traditional dresses. Old Boy greeted them and Kim and I followed behind like a bunch of tourists. We walked into a brightly lit place full of smoke from the Chinese patrons. In fact, Old Boy and his family were the only non Chinese eating at the time there. Every other table consisted of thug looking Chinese dudes. High def images of Kim Jon Il doing his thang with the citizens of North Korea were shown on a few LCD screens. Aside from that, nothing really reminded me of the desolation of North Korea. This was a beautiful restaurant that could have served any type of food.

   The food came out, and I can't exactly say that it was the best North Korean food I've ever had. Old Boy said the food was decent. I'll just have to take his word for it. Then the North Korean soju came out.  After a few shots I was pretty drunk, and found myself lost in the nicely air conditioned bathroom for quite some time. When I finally found the door handle was when I started to film my "undercover" video.
By the way, it was undercover at first because the signs clearly said no photography. Then every other Chinese dude was filming or taking pictures, so I decided that it was okay too.

   It did feel a little weird to be the only Vietnamese person around aside from one lone waiter. I kept insisting to the waitresses that Kim was American just to see their reaction. The North Korea girls all seemed pretty normal. They were all average height and nothing too stunted or weird as many people might assume. But I think their lives remain isolated even in Da Nang. I have a hard time imagining them all just strolling to the beach after work to enjoy the ocean together. I'm really curious about their lives. Aside from the fact that Old Boy told me that these were tourism students on two year contracts, I know nothing else. They all sang a mean tune. I felt at times during their performances that I would just rise up from my seat and float to the ceiling with images of The Dear Leader twinkling in my eyes. I really felt special. Up and up I went.

     Then it was over and we got out of there. The bill was like a hundred dollars for four dishes with a bunch of drinks. The experience was worth it, though I kind of wanted some torture on the side.

Where in the world is Kim?

       I just had coffee with a Spanish girl and an Australian guy from Brisbane. Vietnam brings all sorts of walks of life together. Sure, America is super diversified, but interestingly enough, I've been greeted in a more vast international flare here than back home. In Long Beach, I was rather limited when it comes to meeting Europeans or even Australians. Growing up it never really occurred to me that this world is truly diverse. Yet, moments like a few minutes ago makes me appreciate just being able to speak English. As arrogant as some Americans are and as disconnected as some of us, I have to still acknowledge the fact that America is still great. It does need to diversify when it comes to teaching about the world though. Perhaps greater emphasis on geography and anthropology should be made in high school. Oh, in case you're wondering, I had a cookies and cream coffee drink.

     Globalization fascinates me. The idea of hopping on a plane in being practically anywhere in the world is simply amazing. Take Kim for example. His father is Vietnamese and his mother is a straight up Norwegian. Just by looking at him, you wouldn't know, but his passport is covered in stamps from all over Asia. He's done the entirety of Vietnam. Probably has seen as many cities if not more than me. From Korea to Myanmar to Japan to Indonesia, he's done it. In fact, he even stayed a month in Hong Kong to learn Wing Chung. More recently, he just finished a 7 month long trip away from the cold winters of Norway. He finally ended his trip in Da Nang and Saigon. He's on his way to America as we speak now. When he left, I was actually pretty sad. Good people don't stay here for long. Another problem of living here is that you can make some pretty decent friends, but they all will eventually leave.
I hope when my time is up, someone will think the same of me. Good people don't stay here long.

     I miss home a lot.

All the places Kim went in 7 months.

Casino and visions of my parents.

       Saigon is a city of vices. You can easily get drunk in the highest place in the city to the lowest ground dwellers. You can pick up bridge whores for a few dollars or you can dish out hundreds of dollars for a higher end starfish. Some people prefer to gamble instead.

      On a Sunday night when I should have been sleeping and getting ready for the busy week ahead, I found myself eating some crazy good banh canh in the middle of deep and seedy District 8. Suddenly I found myself at the New World Casino. I didn't have any idea on me and was expecting to get carded or something, but I guess since this is Vietnam... John and I walked in with no questions asked.

      The majority of the people there were either Chinese or Viet kieus. If you have a hard time telling them apart, the Viet kieus are the ones that look really grouchy when they lose. There was a woman that looked like she pooped a turtle just then. I think she slapped her husband's arm a few times violently because he did something on roulette. You can also see a lot of fake noses on middle aged women here. A lot of fake eyeliner eyebrows too. I'm glad my mom isn't like them. But a few older Viet kieus reminded me of my dad. With a lot of baggy shirts, and old caps, these guys looked like they just emigrated to America last year and now they're back to gamble all their nail money. Once again, I respect my dad for not being like these dudes there that night. To think of it, I don't think my dad has ever step foot inside of a casino. When I go home, I'm going to take him to Vegas. Come to think of it, my dad's only vice is that he's such a devout Buddhist and his superstition is a little bullshit at times.

   The food and drinks were free. I was the youngest person there. We walked around for a little bit. I'm not a slots kind of a guy. I don't trust electronics nor do I trust machines. The roulette seemed fun. But gambling's not for me. I respect my parents too much for that. I hope they'll get a chance to know it soon.

Yet a week later.

      This time last week I was in Da Nang. Following an incredibly early morning flight with virtually no prep time whatsoever, I managed to break my camera on top of Ba Na Hills. I still favor the older mini DV tape camcorders so for whatever reasons I kept receiving an error that told me to remove my tapes. No matter what I inserted in, including a head cleaner, everything was rejected. I pretty much lost hope. I was so bummed out that I couldn't capture footage. My whole point of being in Da Nang was to film a travelogue. Oh Ba Na Hills was pretty awesome from the outside. The views were spectacular. But the inside reminded me of yet another cheesy arcade with some super gimmicky rides and 4D to 5D movies. Yes, the fifth dimension is the scariest one.

      So a week later I decided to try the camcorder again. When I got back into Saigon I went to the Canon repair and service center but it was closed for the day. I finally had time (it's been super busy lately and will get busier) to take another look at the camcorder and suddenly it worked again. I tried incredibly hard when I was in Da Nang to make it work. But for whatever reasons, I was able to pop a tape back and started to extract back into my computer for later editing purposes. Amazingly, it worked.
But it now allows tapes, but it still won't record. Looks like I really do need to go to the Canon service center and see what they say. I don't want to buy a new camcorder. It'll be very difficult to find a tape based camcorder. Why do I prefer tape? Well, hard drive camcorders record in the AVCHD format which on my laptop will be near impossible to render and continue the SoJournaling Vietnam format because that format uses more processing power than the extracted .avi from tapes.

    Unfortunately, I don't have any footage of Hoi An. I was desperately trying to get the camcorder to work when I went to Hoi An. It didn't work. After that evening I gave up and stopped trying all together. The rest of the time in Da Nang was free from my bulky camcorder. I kept VietnaMoments in mind and only utilized my phone. I was free. I love filming, but sometimes it can be an unnatural drag. I had more time to just enjoy moments as they were happening instead of squinting through the view finder. (My LCD has been broken for a year now) I actually enjoyed my time a lot more without filming. Interesting.

     The restaurants in Da Nang were largely disappointing. The Bo Bit Tet or Bo Ne my second morning there on Yen Bai street was actually pretty decent, but not comparable to Saigon at all. Saigon has the best food hands down. The my quang I had several times were decent, but nothing too out of this world.  The seafood was expensive three years ago and still is. We just ate the cheap stuff like clams. We didn't dare touch crabs or shrimps. Food reasons sometimes make traveling a pain in the ass. Most of the time I was pretty hungry, but I didn't want to slow things down by eating. Plus, there really wasn't much to eat believe it or not.

    By and by, with all the time spent at the beach, I'm even more tanned. I welcomed the beach atmosphere with less humidity. But oddly enough, most beach towns feel the same to me. Da Nang is less touristy for sure. You'll see the occasional white person walking by or driving by, but you'll never see them in droves like other beach cities. What can I really say about Da Nang that I haven't already. If you gave me the choice, I'd probably live there. But unfortunately, the cost of living is rather similar to Saigon, yet the income potential will definitely be a lot less than Saigon. Something to think about there.

    I left Da Nang feeling a little bit somber. But I'll probably never get a chance to return. And I think that's okay. It's okay to close the book on this particular area of Vietnam. Everything gets old. My camcorder got old. The tapes that I reused were old. I'm getting old.

 

Goodbye Da Nang. 

Where the mountain meets the sea and the river among other things part I.

      Da Nang.

   From the airport in you wouldn't realize that you've stumbled upon someplace truly original. It would likely feel just like any other major city in Vietnam. Motorbikes own the roads as they whiz past skinny tall square buildings with their colorful advertisement. And the interesting thing is that these stores will close because this isn't Saigon. The only thing open all night here are the beaches. If swimming in pitch blackness is your thing, then this city is ideal for you. As you approach the beach and pass one of the various bridges, you'll soon realize that this city is grander than meets the eye. If you're lucky you'll get to see them lit up at night. If not, you can still marvel at their beauty as you leave the river and head towards the beaches. High rises and skyscrapers are beginning to leisurely conquer the horizon. If you don't see this, then you need to wake up and smell the Da Nang brew. By the time you're at the beach, you'll wonder how you'll ever be able to go back to your normal life. You'll wonder how you'll ever go back and live the routine that you consumed your existence.

      The blue green sea engulfed my vision as I shed my shoes and socks and I sunk into the dense sand with a subtle smile. I made it. I'm back. The same beach chairs and umbrellas still lined My Khe beach. The same beach workers tanned from the unforgiving sun still swagged about collecting money and trying to convince people to sit in their chairs. Three years ago I left this city feeling disgusted with myself. I was eager to get out of Da Nang because the person that I wanted to be with had to go away. If you saw my first series titled Vietnam By Myself, then you would know exactly what I'm talking about. For those of you who don't, then let me briefly explain. Three years ago I met a girl who inspired me to go back to Vietnam. We were interested in volunteering for the same organization, but when I later found out that there was an outrageous surcharge to play with kids, I later declined. But still, she convinced me with her elegance.
       I decided that I would meet up her in Ha Noi and we would travel Vietnam together. A year prior to meeting her, I swore myself that I would never return to Vietnam. But I kept a open mind because of her. She was in the country first and I followed later. I traveled a bit before our rendevouz and the time spent with her is largely the reason why I wanted to return to Vietnam to live for a while. I just wished there was a way for us to know how good we have it when we have it. When our time together was up. When she stepped past security at the old Da Nang Airport and when I put the camcorder down, I realized that I could have treated her better. I could have been a better person period. By then it was too late. After I drained most of my tears it was time to check out of my hotel. So I wandered about for a little bit extremely disappointed with myself. I was fine traveling alone before I met up with her. After our time together in Ha Noi, Hue, Hoi An, and Da Nang, I couldn't fathom the thought of being alone again. I lost a lot of tears those few days. I've lost a lot of tears since then. I met a random xe om that day, and we hung out and had diner together. He had no idea why I was a mess. He just cared about eating seafood for a change. I decided that I had to get out of Da Nang that night, so I hopped on the next train out and headed towards Nha Trang. Da Nang to Nha Trang was an absolute nightmare. Things didn't work out for us after the trip. It was largely my fault. Nevertheless, I came back here after university hoping to recapture that brief moment with a person with the kindness heart I've ever met. Back then, I thought she was a little cheesy. The whole Chicken Soup and Harry Potter thing gave me a chuckle. Now, what I wouldn't give to see her again. Too bad, I'm just a fucken muggle.

      So after two years in Vietnam, I finally made it back to Da Nang. I'm still not over her even though she's moved on with her life. She'll graduate from a university in England with her postgraduates long before me. We're still friends, even though we don't talk. It's been eleven months. Every conversation before felt so trivial because she's moved way on. In fact, I think she even has British boyfriend. Oh well, she deserves it. I'll see her again. Or I'll try really hard to just close my eyes and envision how life would have been different if things worked out between us. Damn, I was young and ignorant back then. I remembered how I heard her voice again when I was on a train from Sapa back to Hanoi. As we discussed our rendezvous point, my smile was from ear to ear as I felt a sense of calmness. She was so pleasant. Her voice was a soothing melody.

    With visions of her all around me, I sat down on the beach chair trying to recall moments spent together. I imagined our silhouettes against the waves and remembered how she drew something in the sand. Unfortunately, things are different now.  Now the price of a chair was 20,000 Dong, up from 10,000 Dong. The mountains in the distance now has a Buddhist statue. More resorts have been built. I've changed. I'm more different.

    Stay tuned for part two.
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