Tiger Leaping Gorge

The past four days has had just about everything a traveler could hope for: absurd bus ride, beautiful scenery, and interesting people. Throw in a little of the unwanted, like a day spent snuggling up to the cold tile floor of a public bathroom, and you've really got a good story. But before I get ahead of myself, I should start at the end. We're safely back in Lijiang for the night and leaving for Chengdu tommorrow morning.

Tiger Leaping Gorge is quickly becoming one of the most visited sites in the country. The only means of getting through used to be one of two dirt paths used by the local Naxi villagers. The lower road has recently been paved due to Government interest in damning the Yangzi river and the explosion of tourism. Visitors can now take a bus directly from Lijiang via Qiatou, on the Western end of the gorge, through the entire length of the gorge. The more inclined travelers take the bus to Qiatou and hike across the upper path to one of the guesthouses on the East side and then bus back to Lijiang. Either of those would have been too easy.

Instead we took a local bus to Daju, an almost invisible town on the East side, and hiked across the upper path. Getting a ticket to Daju proved to be a bit of a hassle - our first real language barrier experience of the trip. We were a little disconcerted that we weren't given a receipt for the bus ride or the entry fee to the area. The only guarantee we got was a nod from the driver after I found the word for "trust" in our phrasebook. We were both surprised that we were the only tourists on the bus - everyone else locals with boxes of food, cooking supplies, toys, and small dogs.

The ride was fairly unremarkable until a white goo started leaking out from under our seat and into the aisle. At first it was small enough that nobody really noticed it, but eventually it got onto someone's leather coat and he brought the bus to a quick stop. Turns out the guy sitting two seats up was bringing four giant plastic bags of plaster back home - two of which were leaking into the bus. The man taking responsibility for the commotion handed out cigarettes to most of the bus. Being directly behind him, I was one of the lucky winners and couldn't refuse. Nicole read somewhere that it is custom to dole out cigarettes after a disruptive event, and I had also read that it's a bit rude to refuse a cigarette. I'm not a smoker, but I chalked it up to the experience. We've both been fascinated with Chinese smokers since arriving - they have a casual one-ness about the way the smoke that, I think, can only be achieved by someone who can live every moment of their life smoking. You don't see that in the US anymore. Perry Mason and Paul Drake used to smoke like that, but it's just not possible these days. I did my best impression of those around me by lodging the cigarette between my lips - just a bit off center - and sitting back as if I were contemplating some really intense Chinese chess maneuvers.
Delicious.After three hours of climbing through a beautifully jagged mountain pass we were dropped off at the Daju Children's Hospital and directed to the only guesthouse in town. Determined to find a ferry across the river that night we set out through the wheat fields towards the gorge. Our guidebook described the path to the ferry as an hour long, well marked road. Maybe we missed it, but we didn't see any signs, nor were we really on a road. After two hour of wandering through random fields and, seemingly, deserted clusters of buildings we gave up and started walking back to Daju. We were both feeling pretty dejected when, from behind us, we heard,"Nee hao! Where you going?" and saw a small straw hat poking out above a fence a couple hundred meters back. It was the same fence we passed twice before, but this time somebody noticed the ridiculously misplaced white people with backpacks walking by. Turned out to be the "ferry man" who, for 60 yuan, drove us the twenty minutes to the ferry, hiked down the gorge with us, and boated us across the water. Saved! The guesthouse we had been hoping to stay at was in reach - 1.7km up the side of the gorge and another 3km down a road.The river was an amazing emerald green color surrounded by cliffs soaring up to 200 meters above the water. Although pleasantly warm at the water, the peaks still had veins of white snow clinging to their tops. Breathtaking. The short hike to the guesthouse was, in itself, gorgeous. Settled into Sean's Guesthouse, looking forward to spending the next day hiking the area.

Unfortunately, I woke up at night in a cold sweat and knew I was going to be in for a rough day. The Andrew Jackson Purge Cycle is a painful and ugly event. Effective at getting whatever it is out, but painful. Nicole was able to take a hike and meet a lot of travelers passing through, but didn't venture too far in case I turned for the worse. It was nice to know that she was there to take care of me, but I felt guilty, too. A much more thorough bout than the one in Dali, I was out of commission for the entire day. The only real sleep I got was a forty five minute nap while lying face down in the muck on wonderfully cold tile floors. At some point in the day the owner noticed that I had spent several hours in the bathrooms (they were a group a four stall shared between several rooms) and gave Nicole a three ounce vile of medicine. The brown sludge inside was one of the most fowl smelling liquids I 've ever encountered - a strange combination of garlic, ginger, alcohol, and vinegar. I didn't really have any other options, so I slugged it down as soon as I felt like I'd be able to keep it down. Somehow it had a chalky texture that took an entire liter of water to rinse out of my mouth. Sure enough, though, stopped me up by morning.

Feeling better after a decent night of sleep, we left Sean's Guesthouse the next morning and hiked the high path towards the Naxi Family Guesthouse - estimated to be about eight hours away. Eight hours of some of the most painful hiking I've ever experienced. The terrain wasn't all that difficult, but I wasn't quite recovered from the day before. But, we safely made it in seven and a half hours. The views along the way were some of the most stunning I've ever seen - it has to rank among the most beautiful scenery on Earth.

Woke up this morning after a comfortable night at the Naxi Guesthouse and hiked the final two hours to Qiatou. A guy driving by offered to take us back to Lijiang for a good price so we jumped in - nice ending to a fun four days. We're looking forward to moving on to Chengdu, but we'll definitely miss the Yunnan. More pictures soon.

Dali

Located on the Western shore of Lake Er Hai, Dali is a major Chinese tourist attraction - tempting those looking for the quaint old town, local Bai culture, and outdoor activities around the lake and Cangshan Mountain Range. The 'old town' is a collection of shops, travel agencies, restaurants, and hostels within an ancient imperial wall. Many of the attractions have been recently manufactured to draw more crowds and money. The large lake, looming 4000 meter peak, and abundant pine trees make it feel a lot like Central Oregon and Washington.

The farm land that we saw on the way to Dali was much different than the expansive crops of pineapple, bananas, coconut, and sugar cane that we saw on the way to Kunming. Instead, the farms were much smaller and diverse, as if they were used to feed a family rather than sold to a market. Villages were simple clusters of twenty or thirty houses until we reached Dali. Water buffalo were also much more prevalent. To give you an idea of the significance of water buffalo in the Yunnan, watch this video sent to me by Chellis. If you're interested, there's also a website here. To those of you who cry easily I recommend getting your tissues ready.

Unfortunately I came down with something that my body felt necessary to purge out both ends, so Nicole spent the morning reading while I wasted away in a coma. By the afternoon I had recovered so we set out to hike up the mountain nearby. On our way up we met Irene, on vacation from the Guogdong Province. She spoke perfect English and asked if she could hike with us. It was a tough hike considering we haven't seen many mountains in the past few months. The trail passed through several graveyards overlooking the city and distant lake - common in China for graves to have beautiful views. Passing overhead was a chair lift swiftly carrying the less inclined to the temple that we were slugging our way towards. A loudspeaker obnoxiusly repeated advertisements and Berlin's Take My Breath Away. Fairly accurate since we had to take breaks to catch our breath every ten or fifteen minutes.Finally made it to the temple, about half way up the mountain, after a couple hours and strolled around the grounds for a bit and taking in the scenery. A stone path carried on along the side of the mountain for another eleven kilometers, but we only ventured three or four - worried that some storm clouds blowing in might let loose. The sun was setting and we had our fill of exercises on the way up so opted for the chair lift on the way down. It was a fun ride with great views of the city with the lake as a backdrop.This morning we took a bus from Dali to Lijiang, about 150 kilometers North. Lijiang is popular for the same reasons as Dali, though it is also commonly used as a staging area for moving on to Tibet, via Zhongdian(more famously known as Shangri-La), and Tiger Leaping Gorge. Naxi is the dominant culture here and people dressed in the traditional clothing are everywhere. Traditional songs are performed occasionally in the town squares. Like Dali, Lijiang has an old town of cobble stoned streets lined with small shops selling jadeite, local clothing, tea, and other souvenirs. As we were wandering through the tight maze of alleys we stumbled on to Sinfang Sqaure, a relatively open space. A large red inflated tube arced across the square with "Eastern Oregon University Choir" printed in white block letters. I had to read it twice to make sure I wasn't crazy, but sure enough it was true. A handful of twenty or so college students in uniformed polo shirts were milling about the square having just finished a performance!The trips to Tibet are tempting, but a it's out of our price range and too time consuming. Instead, we head North to Tiger Leaping Gorge - touted as the longest, deepest, and narrowest gorge in the world - tommorrow morning. We're really looking forward to hiking for a couple days and seeing some of the Himalayan 'foothills'.

Enter the Yunnan

Sa Pa was a much needed break, but by Thursday we were ready to move on. Admittedly, both of us were anxious about crossing over to China. Our guide book and several people we've talked to along the way have implied that we should expect little more than a sea of concrete buildings, overbearing gray clouds or smog, and rude people with offensive hygiene habits who were unwilling to communicate. Within the first day after crossing the border, however, all of those warnings were proved dead wrong. The China that we have seen, albeit we've only been here for a few days, is an incredibly beautiful country and wonderful people! Perhaps best of all, we have yet to find food we didn't like - delicious and inexpensive(we were somehow able to order a good bowl of spicy noodles for less than a dollar from the street stall shown above)! I am completely enamoured with the country and feel (and I think Nicole, too) totally recharged to travel.

We crossed from Lao Cai to Hekou early Thursday morning - working our way through the first of many encounters with excessive paperwork. It was the first time that I can think of that we didn't see any other obvious foreigners. Being the only Caucasians walking around with backpacks was both unsettling and fun. The Vietnamese border guard spent a good ten minutes looking at our passports and even used an ultraviolet light to inspect our China visa. Not sure why, but border guards (at every country I've been, including the US) always make me feel like I'm smuggling something. On the other side of the bridge, the Chinese border guard had me seriously doubting that we would make it through. He spent five minutes on my passport and an additional fifteen minutes looking at Nicole's. Although I look nothing like my passport picture, it was Nicole that he gave a hard time - even turned to the only female guard present to confirm (I can only imagine because women can recognize another better than men??) that it was actually Nicole. He then had Nicole sign a blank customs form to match against her passport. Eventually, against his better judgement I'm sure, he let us through. And, in all fairness, the other guards in the station were very helpful in directing us.

The bus station was only a few meters away and we easily found our seats with time to spare. We still hadn't seen any other backpackers and were fairly certain, especially after we had our picture taken, that we were going to be the center of attention for the next twelve hours. Enter Korean-American Presbyterian missionaries. The same guy who took our picture turned out to be part of a father-son team from Philadelphia travelling through Southern China to visit Christian churches and they just so happened to be sitting behind us. Neither of them spoke Mandarin and so travelled with a guide who came in really handy when the bus almost left Nicole at a bathroom stop. I think I would have been able to get my point across, but I was still glad that he could yell along with me in a language the driver understood.

Initially hesitant about taking a day bus, the passing scenery was more than enough reward and the time easily passed. After a couple of hours undistinguished from what we had seen in Northern Vietnam some subtle difference began to creep into the landscape. Most noticeably, the same baskets we've seen strapped to motorbikes for the last three months were saddled on donkeys. The roads were lined with trucks being loaded with goods carried by the pack animals. Farmers could be seen leading a train of donkeys in the distant hills and the valley floor below. I initially thought that it was a issue of money, but, and I'm only speculating, it seems that using donkeys is the best way to get around. The terrain in Southern Yunnan is so much steeper and less paved than anything we've seen so far that a donkey could traverse from the mountainside farm to the sole paved road much faster(if at all) than a motorbike.We stopped for dinner at about 8:30PM at a buffet style cafeteria and we made our first venture into Yunnan's food. Language barrier was a none issue; a simple point and nod was all it took to build a plate of four different entrees and a bowl of rice. Delicious - even the vegetables were nicely flavored with a gentle spice. Nicole, a bit skeptical, let me dig into the first few bites, but was soon enjoying it as much as I. To go with the food, an awesome Kung Fu movie starring Chow Yun-Fat was playing on a small television in the corner. It was a much needed break before contiuning on. We finally made it to Kunming a little after midnight. As usual we were "helped" in our search for a bank and the hostel - long story, but it took an hour and a half for us to go three kilometers.Kunming is probably the most pleasant big city I've ever been. I'm not joking. Maybe it's because we've been hanging out in some of the biggest cities in Asia, but simply walking streets was interesting and entertainment enough. No tuk-tuks, a fraction of the motorbikes we're accustomed (almost all of which were electric powered), and a sparing use of horns made for the quietest city we've been in months! The heaviest traffic was in the bike lines - wide enough on both side of the three for five or six bikers abreast. The sidewalks were wide and not once were we harassed by street vendors, prostitutes, or drug dealers. Truly, a shocking experience for us South East Asian vets.Clear blue skies, a gentle breeze, and lively pedestrians inspired us to ditch our initial plan to visit the Kunming Museum and spend the day walking the streets. Cuihu Park was our favorite stop and most of the pictures on the blog were taken there. The three men with giant reels controlling kites almost too far away to be seen were a common site. And yes, that is a young girl inside a plastic bubble floating in a lake. I don't know how much fun she was having flopping around in the bubble, but the parents on shore who kept kicking her out into the lake were having a blast. Music was everywhere - mostly Chinese Opera style singing and instrumentals. Boing! So much fun to walk through the park. I could probably write about a million little experience throughout the day, but it would take too long. Odd because we haven't really done anything besides ride a bus and walk through the city and yet I feel like I have more to describe than I have in weeks.Today we took a train (hard seat train for $5/ticket...sweet) from Kunming to Dali. We were expecting, again thanks to our guide book, a rough ride. And, again, it was exactly the opposite. We had plenty of room and hot water to enjoy our giant cup of noodles(about three times as big as the standard cup 'o noodles from back home). I must be a scary looking dude because nobody said a word to us until the moment I left to go to the bathroom. By the time I got back to our seats Nicole was swarmed by five women teaching her Mandarin and practising their English. Apparently strong in numbers, they didn't stop when I came back and, instead, told me to take a different seat so they could sit next to Nicole! We spent three hours talking to the ladies in the picture and ended up exchanging email addresses. Ping Wang (the younger girl on the right) gave her bracelet to Nicole who, in return, gave Ping her necklace. The Chinese people sitting nearby looked on with knowing smiles like parents watching their children getting along with playmates. Needless to say, we were really glad we took the train.(By the way, Chellis, having pictures of us with you and your family and the little red packet your grandmother gave us have worked wonders for breaking the ice!)

The one frustration I've had so far has been Internet censorship. Last night, as Chellis mentioned in the comments, I was unable to access the blog (In addition to blospot, we are unable to view Google News or Wikipedia). According to articles I've read online the Chinese government has, without any given reason, universally blocked access to any www.blogspot/... address. Unofficially, the site has been blocked because Chinese citizens were using blogspot as a portal to access websites blocked by the Chinese firewall (called The Great Wall). Fortunately, I think we will be able to update and add posts, but we won't be able add comments or see the blog as you do(although there are ways that I have found to get around that ;). Your comments are automatically forwarded to our email address, so please continue to respond - we really do read an enjoy them all even if we don't always respond. In case there are any further interruptions, we'll email our posts to Chellis and she has, graciously, agreed to post them for us(thank you, again, Chellis!).

Sa Pa

We've been holed up in the small mountain town of Sa Pa for the last three days - thoroughly enjoying the relative solitude and isolation. While not as long or frustrating as the train ride to Hanoi, it was still a rough night of sleep during the 9 hours from Hanoi to Lau Cai. Since it is cold enough here in the Northern hills, windows are left open and doors provide little shielding from the elements. For whatever reason the train seemed to stop and start more violently than the others. We were startled awake at midnight when my hand slammed into the wall as the the train jerked to a halt. Took me a minute to realize what was going on before I let out some swearing that, assuming they understood, our Vietnamese roommates didn't appreciate. Another hour and half bus ride from Lau Cai, and we were finally in the misty town of Sa Pa.

The area is very similar to Northern Laos and is a popular tourist attraction for trekking the limestone landscape and visiting local ethnic villages. Villagers in traditional garb wander the streets selling hand sewn clothing and other trinkets. Innocent looking women constantly approach us with handfuls of clothing or a basket-backpack of cloth. I can only imagine it's the facial hair, but I am also frequently confronted by the same sweet old ladies asking, in there high-pitched-voices,"Mare-uh-wana, okay! Hashish, you want? Good! O-p-um...okay. You want smoking? I have. Okay!"The weather has been very cold and damp and we've limited ourselves to brief walks through the surrounding area, hot baths, and eating. It's been very relaxing and we've both slept better in the last few days than we have in weeks. Yesterday we walked to a Hmong village in the valley below Sa Pa; descending a newly paved, single lane road that spirals down the hillside through hundreds of terraced rice fields. Hmong working parties manually tilled the land while dogs, goats, hogs, and water buffalo freely roam the hills. After only a few hundred meters, we were well below the fog level and much warmer - enabling us to comfortably enjoy a short walk along a forest trail.
We've been hoping that the fog would lift long enough for us to catch a glimpse of Fan Si Pa, the mountain our hostel supposedly has a view, but it has remained too thick so far. Tomorrow we will bus back to Lao Cai, cross into China, and take a twelve hour bus up to Kunming. On the road again...

Hanoi

Has been a rough few days for us here in Hanoi. Our hostel is situated in the middle of the Old Quarter - a place I first described as being great for people watching. Second impression: filthy (raw sewage everywhere), smelly (the sticky pungent aroma of rotting urine near vendors selling raw meat), crowded, and loud. Probably exactly what you would imagine as the stereotypical South East Asian big city. Being exhausted from our train ride (our friendly roommates got up at 345 and, apparently excited about getting to Hanoi, launched into an obnoxiously loud conversation) we weren't really excited about walking through garbage caked streets. Adding to our frustration, the streets are ridiculously unorganized and, literally, change names randomly. Random isn't really true because the street names are based on the market groupings. Names used to correspond to what was sold, but they're fairly unrelated these days. Great idea unless you're trying to read a map and have no idea where you are.

We spent the first day walking around the city and getting our bearings. That evening we watched a show at Thang Long Water Puppet Theatre. I was prepared for the worst, but it was fairly entertaining and impressive. Instead of strings, the puppets are controlled by poles concealed under a pool of water while the actors are hidden behind a bamboo screen. Pretty cool effect.Yesterday it started raining - a constant drizzle similar to rains in the NW - making our walks through town fairly uncomfortable. After deciding against Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum (the lines were too long - it didn't really seem worth waiting in the rain) we visited the Temple of Literature, an ancient university dedicated to Confucianism. Afterwards I went to the National Museum of Vietnamese History while Nicole did some shopping. Everything from 15th-20th century was being renovated, so the museum was a bit of a let down. Nicole found a nice silk blouse.As usual, we're not really enjoying the big city and ready to move on to Sa Pa - located in the Northern mountains just South of the Chinese border. I think we would have enjoyed the city had it been earlier in our travels. We're both feeling drained by the travelling lifestyle and struggling at times to find the motivation to keep going. I think it's just a combination of being tired and frustrations with the Vietnamese culture. It's not that we don't enjoy the people we meet or interact with, but there are certain aspects (smoking in closed spaces; extremely loud conversations while simultaneously playing music from cell phones, computers, stereos, and TVs; lack personal space; constant harassment by cyclo drivers) that are starting to take their toll on our patience. Hopefully a few days away from the city will help us get back into the groove.

Hue

From Danang we went four hours North by train to Hue, the former capital city of Vietnam, home of the Imperial City, and UNESCO World Heritage Site. Scenery during the train ride ranged from stunning ocean views while crawling along the side of limestone cliffs to endless green rice fields tended by farmers wearing conical hats. We were on the East side of the train - perfectly situated to watch the landscape pass by.We only scheduled a day in Hue so quickly dropped our bags off and rented bikes to pedal out to the town. It was a perfect evening; cool breeze, nice bikes, and not much traffic (by Vietnam standards). We were able to cycle from our hotel to the outer walls of the Imperial City in about ten minutes and spent about two hours riding just outside the inner walls and people watching. Several soccer games were played throughout the fields within the the compound - the young energy and old buildings felt like a college campus. The lurking presence of old war vehicles displayed within a fenced museum and knowledge of fierce battles between French and American forces made us both feel, however, like we were treading through haunted grounds.We stopped at one of the gates to take a picture and overheard an American gentlemen graphically describing, in first person, battles that took place at the imperial city during the Tet Offensive. Both of us were intrigued by his enthusiastic retelling of the events, but felt awkward eavesdropping so we moved on. As with most of our travel in Vietnam, it is that sort of encounter that complicates the experience. After biking around for a few hours we hared a set menu of Hue's local cuisine at a restaurant featuring live local music. The candlelit dinner was a perfect end to a great day.

We were up the next morning at six and back on our bikes to see Tu Duc's Mausoleum - about five kilometers South of town. Getting up early always pays off because there are very few tourists up and about yet. No exception that morning; we were pretty much left to ourselves to wonder through the miniature version of the imperial city. Most of the stone structures were built around 1800 and still in use as recent as 1945, but they already looked like medieval castles.After the mausoleum we returned to the Imperial City; this time to explore the inner walls. Originally constructed in the early 1800's with 128 buildings, only 20 remain after battles in 1945 and 1968. The city is slowly being reconstructed by specialist in hopes to preserve the history and, I'm sure, to promote tourism. The structures remaining were fairly dilapidated, but still invoked an impressive image of what it must have been at one time. Again, it was odd to imagine the fierce battles that raged throughout the city walls. Also interesting was the increasing Chinese influence in both character and construction of the buildings. We're curious to see how it compares to the imperial city in Beijing.We could have spent several more days in Hue, but already booked our onward tickets to Hanoi. The overnight trip was much different than our first from Saigon to Danang. Instead of sprawling out in our own soft sleeper cabin, we shared a hard sleeper with four Vietnamese. The lack of space was too much for me so I hid in my bunk and read the entire time. Nicole, attempting the more social option, sat with them and chatted about the country. They absolutely lit up with excitement when she asked them to help her learn some Vietnamese words! Our roommates rewarded Nicole's curiosity with a couple hunks of mystery meat (even after eating the grey cubes we have no idea what it was) with her dinner. I could tell she wasn't pleased with the gift, but she powered through and ate it. Very impressive. I had fun watching from my perch.The train arrived in Hanoi a little before 6 this morning. Not quite as rested after this trip, we're going to take a day to settle in and get our bearings. Our hostel is situated in the middle of a lively street market - great for people watching, but a bit obnoxious with all the motorbike horns.

Danang and Hoi An

Immediately upon leaving Phu Quoc Island our travel resolve was tested. Because all the flights to Ho Chi Minh City were booked, we had to take a bus, a ferry, 3 different minivans, and a taxi to get back. Total travel time: 12 hours. To make matters worse, we encountered our first blatant anti-American comments on the long mini-van ride and had to sit next to a couple rude, self-righteous jerks for 5 hours. It's kind of ironic, too because we have been traveling overseas for 4 months now, we are in Vietnam (a place where I might expect some anti-American sentiment), and first real rudeness we have encountered (by local or fellow traveler) was by this German couple.
Andrew and I were both pretty disheartened by the incident, but it made us take a step back and realized how lucky we have been. Despite what people tell you about sewing a Canadian flag on your backpack and everything else, we have been welcomed almost universally with curiosity and kindness- even by those who are strongly opposed to American foreign policy.

As an example, the van ride itself was saved by the everyday kindness of the Vitnamese people on board who communicated with us in varying levels of english and sign language. One man in particular bought us rambutan and custard apple at the rest stop, wanting us to try some Vietnamese fruit. Then he offered to share a taxi from the bus station; after chatting for a few minutes about Vietnamese food, good places to visit, and how to make sure you don't get robbed he insisted on paying the entire fare himself. The price of the taxi ride and the fruit was very small, but that sort of kindness is in large part what has made this trip such an incredible experience.

In any case, we made it to Ho Chi Minh City alive and the next day took an overnight train to Danang, in the central coast. It was our first experience with train travel and we were impressed by how relaxing and comfortable it was. We arrived in Danang feeling well rested and ready for a day of checking out the surrounding area. Our first stop was the Cham sculpture museum (the Champa kingdom ruled parts of Vietnam between the 2nd and 15th centuries). Even to our untrained eyes, it was pretty interesting to see similarities and differences between artifacts of the same age from neighboring China and Cambodia.After the museum, we head to China Beach where we sipped a cold beer, and looked at the waves. It's hard to imagine what a bizarre alternate reality this peaceful beach must have seemed like for a combat Marine on R&R.Today we took a day trip to the historical city of Hoi An, where Japanese, Chinese and European trade flourished from the 16th to 18th centuries. The architecture of the old homes and assembly halls is a beautiful mix of cultural influences. Impressive craftsmanship and ingenuity (like a pulley system to get goods and furniture to the second floor) has allowed them to survive for centuries on a continuously flooding riverbank.
What really made Hoi An interesting for me, though, was the living culture. The ethnic Chinese community in particular has continued to use many of the same buildings. One home has been used by seven generations of the same family-a sixth generation woman helped explain the significance of some of the architecture and decoration. Similarly, an old assembly hall was in use for a large and gregarious lunch when we came to visit. We also saw a beautiful and moving traditional dance/music performance- probably my favorite "traditional" show since getting to Asia.
That's about it for the last few days. Above and below are some pictures of livestock on motorcycles, which we mentioned in a post a couple weeks ago. Unfortunately, we have not been fast enough to catch any of the motorcycles we have personally seen. But, while these are (obviously) not our pictures, I swear that they are not exaggerated for tourists in any way. Come to think of it, the least realistic thing is probably that the drivers are wearing helmets.

Phu Quoc Island

Ahhhhh, Phu Quoc Island. Phu Quoc Island sits in the Gulf of Thailand just below Cambodia (incidentaly, Cambodia claims it). It is pretty quiet these days. There are a few towns and tourist attractions here (like a fish sauce factory and pepper tree plantations), but we have mostly stuck to the long white sand beaches . . . an excellent place for us to recharge our travel batteries.The first two days here were spent on the beach in front of our hotel reading, playing chess, swimming and just vegging out. We are staying at an excellent place- $8 a night buys a simple but nice bungalow-type room about 50 feet from the ocean, $.65 buys an ice cold bottle of Saigon Beer, $2 buys a good meal, and the long beautiful (nearly abandoned) white sand beach out front is free. An excellent place to sit and enjoy complete peace and quiet. We were disturbed only by the occasional fruit vendor, a woman offering massages (I took her up on it), and a herd of cows.The Vietnam government has evidently recognized the earning power of this place-- and there are plans for further development (we saw quite a bit of construction), an international airport, and a visa-free zone. Can't blame people for trying to make a decent living, but we definitely feel lucky to have gotten here before it turns into Phuket.Unfortunately, the good weather did not last. The last two days have been unseasonably rainy and grey. No complaints, though- we have not seen any real rain since New Zealand. It was kind of comforting to sit under the veranda and listen to the rain and feel the ocean breeze. Today it was nice enough for us to rent a motorcycle and ride around the island a little. If you take a close look at the picture above, you may notice something new on Andrew's left wrist. . . here, let me give you a closer look:Yup, in a small market in a small town at a small booth in the Mekong Delta Andrew finally found the classic Cassio calculator watch he's been looking for. It's a brilliant fashion statement AND has a multitude of everyday uses (it has already been extremely handy for currency conversions.Tomorrow we will go back to Saigon and then head north up the coast. We're hoping this trip has added enough to our reserve of energy and enthusiasm to make it through the next few months and still be glad we're traveling. The distances we are planning to cover on the rest of our trip through Vietnam, China, Mongolia, and Russia are much greater than what we've gotten used to in Thailand, Lao and Cambodia. . . and we still plan to make it over land. It is a rewarding way to travel, but mostly it appeals to our stubborn (and cheap) sides. I have a feeling exhaustion or lack of time might cause us to pony up the extra cash for a flight somewhere in China.

Mekong Delta

Just finished an amazing two day tour of the Mekong Delta. Although skeptical about signing up for another group tour, the package sounded good and we decided to take the gamble. Group size was pretty similar to our Cu Chi tour, but some small variations in our choices made for an incredible and unique experience. It was mostly our decision to stay at a rural farm home instead of a hotel in Can Tho that made the trip incredible.

We started with a two and a half hour bus ride from Saigon and then boarded a long boat on the Mekong. Our tour guide was mildly entertaining and provided some interesting information along the way, so it was a fairly painless ride. The first stop was a coconut candy shop along the water. We were able to watch a team of three people brew up some very tasty coconut taffy - plain, chocolate, or peanut. Nearby was another shop that made rice pancakes, and puffed rice.After cruising through the delta for a few hours we left the boat and jumped on bicycles for a short ride to lunch. Some decent fried rice with spring rolls along with the excellent company of a Dutch couple made for a nice break in the heat of the day. From lunch we rode back to the boat and spent another hour weaving through everything from small rivers to lake sized bodies of water. Beautiful scenery and incredible people watching as we cruised by countless homes along the river. People lined the banks and usually waved with a smile as we passed by - especially the small kids.By the end of our sweat-soaked day we briefly second guessed our decision to pass up an air conditioned hotel room, but our choice was immediately validated by the feeling of relief as we left the rest of the group. Nicole and I were immediately picked up from the hotel by two guys on scooters. While we did a little scooter riding in Thailand it was a totally different experience with a local at the wheel - much more familiar with the rules of the road and much less conservative than we were. Within about ten minutes we went from a bustling city to a single track dirt road along a river. Incredible!Any doubts were surely erased upon arriving at the rice farm after a short walk along a footpath in the middle of the forest. I have no idea how far we actually were from the city, but the only sounds we could hear were the steady hiss of crickets and a few distant motorboats. We were greeted with tea by Ken(at least that's what it sounded like), our host for the night, and spent a few minutes relaxing and chatting about his family and our travels. He then took us for a walk through his home and the family farm. The setting sun and cool evening breeze perfectly complimented the beautiful landscape. Ken talked with us for awhile and then let us alone on a bench to watch the sunset over the rice fields. I think Nicole finally had a sense of peace in the country after so much time in the city.
Two other travelers, and American and a German, showed up after dark and we sat down for the best meal I think we've had in Vietnam(Notice how excited Nicole is in the picture below!). All very basic stuff: rice cakes, steamed rice, pork, tofu, fish soup, and vegetables, but it was wonderfully seasoned and delicious! Ken ate with us and kept pouring shots of rice wine throughout dinner. We probably should have learned from Ken and patiently sipped the wine but the we, especially the German and I, were slamming them back in one gulp. So, in keeping with Asian hospitality, he would keep refilling our glass. Needless to say, we were all feeling pretty happy, as they say here, by the end of dinner.Got up the next morning for sunrise and took a long boat from the farm back to the Can Tho to meet up with rest of the tour group. While we were waiting we took the opportunity to try Vietnamese coffee at one of the morning markets. Coffee here is almost always served iced and very strong. A fun start to the day being the tourists in the market and sipping iced coffee with the locals. Couldn't really strike up a conversation, but it made for some good people watching.Joined the rest of the group and drove through the floating market - a collection of several hundred boats selling various fruits and vegetables. During the rainy season the market can stretch up to a kilometer. Each merchant displays what they are selling on a pole raised above the boat. Not much to actually buy, but fun to see.Spent another couple hours floating around and then caught a bus to Rach Gia. Actually got a lot of help from our guide and we are setup with a nice hotel tonight and ferry tickets to Phu Quoc in hand. Not sure how good the Internet connection will be on the island so it might be awhile until the next post. And if the Internet is fast I don't know if we'll have much to write about because we're planning on taking a break for a few days to enjoy a little beach time!

Cu Chi Tunnels and War Remnants Museum

We started early with a two hour bus ride to the nearby Cu Chi Tunnels - a half day trip we organized the night before. Used extensively during combat with French and American forces, the tunnels were comprised of three networked levels ranging from 3, 6, and 9 meters below the surface. We signed up for the tour at our hotel, but joined a bus full of people who started from one of the travel agencies in the city. I think today was the first time we were part of a massive tour group being shuffled from place to place and hopefully our last. The first stop was at woodworking shop setup by the government to enable people disabled by Agent Orange to work. Most of crafts produced were lacquered wood carvings and paintings, but they also had various other items for sale. The artwork was beautiful, but it felt odd to be herded past the people while they were working and a bit like they were being exploited for their obvious deformities.From the wood working shop we were bused another half an hour to Cu Chi. Upon arrival we were shown a ten minute 'documentary' video about Viet Cong forces fighting in the area. Purely propaganda, the black and white video was primarily a series of staged clips portraying various heroes from the war. Kind of reminded me of old news reels. After the video we took a short walk through the forest (replanted in 1985 after being completely decimated by defoliants during the war) and shown various models of bamboo traps used against US soldiers. Similar to walking through the Toul Sleng prison, it was unsettling to see real life agents of torture - make no mistake that the traps were intended to painfully injure the victim rather than kill. Adding to the uneasy environment, machine gun fire could be heard from the nearby shooting range where tourists were given the opportunity to shoot a variety of automatic weapons. I will admit that I was tempted to fire a few rounds from an AK-47, but it didn't really seem appropriate. Check out my awesome cleavage.Actual tunnels used during the war were too small for most western body frames, so they built larger tunnels for tourists to crawl through. I have slightly claustrophobic tendencies, but usually only feel it when I can't move my arms. While I had some freedom of movement, the darkness in the tunnel really bothered me and I could only finish 30 of the 90 meter tunnel. Sound was also very disorienting - there were several times that Nicole said something that sounded like it was behind me or even above me when she was really several meters in front of me (really strange when it was too dark to see her). She helped me stay calm when it was pitch black and we made it through the tunnel in about ten minutes. After the tunnel we stopped by the shooting range, watched a woman demonstrate making rice paper, and lunched on tapioca root(very bland).The bus dropped us off near the War Remnants Museum(formerly the Museum of American War Crimes) back in Saigon and we braced ourselves for more propaganda. While it was one sided - nearly all of the pictures and events described were of American activities - the presentation didn't stray from factual description of the events. We spent most of the time in a special exhibit of pictures taken by international photographers that died during the war. Some of the most famous pictures of the war were included in the museum along with griping journal entries and articles. The whole experience was overwhelming and we both left feeling emotionally drained.

While there are significant differences in the scale of the Vietnam and Iraq wars, it is scary and frustrating that the more I learn about Vietnam the more similarities I see in the handling of the wars. Especially disheartening is a read through Robert McNamara's eleven lessons learned from his 1996(!) book In Retrospect: The Tragedy and Lessons of Vietnam:

1. We misjudged then — and we have since — the geopolitical intentions of our adversaries … and we exaggerated the dangers to the United States of their actions.
2. We viewed the people and leaders of South Vietnam in terms of our own experience … We totally misjudged the political forces within the country.
3. We underestimated the power of nationalism to motivate a people to fight and die for their beliefs and values.
4. Our judgments of friend and foe alike reflected our profound ignorance of the history, culture, and politics of the people in the area, and the personalities and habits of their leaders.
5. We failed then — and have since — to recognize the limitations of modern, high-technology military equipment, forces and doctrine…
6. We failed as well to adapt our military tactics to the task of winning the hearts and minds of people from a totally different culture.
7. We failed to draw Congress and the American people into a full and frank discussion and debate of the pros and cons of a large-scale military involvement … before we initiated the action.
8. After the action got under way and unanticipated events forced us off our planned course … we did not fully explain what was happening and why we were doing what we did.
9. We did not recognize that neither our people nor our leaders are omniscient. Our judgment of what is in another people's or country's best interest should be put to the test of open discussion in international forums. We do not have the God-given right to shape every nation in our image or as we choose.
10. We did not hold to the principle that U.S. military action … should be carried out only in conjunction with multinational forces supported fully (and not merely cosmetically) by the international community.
11. We failed to recognize that in international affairs, as in other aspects of life, there may be problems for which there are no immediate solutions … At times, we may have to live with an imperfect, untidy world.
    

Which one of those lessons did we actually learn?