Shoes, shoes, shoes!!!

Who am I, Imelda? Shit, I only had flip flops and a pair of skate shoes for months. That was sufficient. Then I bought some fake Crocs to mix it up. I hate them. I recently decided to expand my footwear collection. I bought a pair of retro-looking sneaks. That gave me two pairs of sandals and two pairs of shoes. Perfect.

Then I met this girl who happened to have tiny feet. I put her shoe up to my sandal. It was about half the size. She asked me what size shoe I wore. Conveniently, her ex-boyfriend wore the same size. Presumably he still does, but he went back to Canada. I now own a new pair of skate shoes and some hiking shoes. And there are some football (soccer) cleats in a closet somewhere with my name on them as well. Ridiculous.

No, I don't skate. I haven't picked that up yet. But they are comfy shoes and perfect when you have to slip your shoes on and off again with such frequency. Does that make me a poser? I don't know. What if you wear running shoes, but don't run? Or ski boots if you don't ski? Well, here you likely have other issues.

I don't need six pairs of footwear, seven including the cleats I don't quite possess. One for every day of the week. This is absurd. And I still need some dress shoes. It's getting harder and harder every time I switch hotels. I hope I can find a more permanent abode. I have more shoes than socks and that's just plain silly. Golly jee willikers.

It's a bird...

It's a plane...It's Superman! Yeah, yeah, yeah. There are worse people to be compared to, far worse people, but still, it's getting old. About every other day, I get the comment. People in my class have started calling me Clark. I feel like I respond to that about as much as I do my own name.

The other day, I was walking down the street and I heard "Clark!" I looked around and thought I'd find one of my classmates. But no, it was three random tourists having a beer and some fun. They said I was standing there with my hands on my hips ready to fly off and save the day.

Shit, I wish I could save the day. I'd definitely wear my underwear on the outside if it gave me superpowers. But that's cool if people just think I bear a resemblance. I definitely don't, but call me what you will. Short dark hair, dark-rimmed glasses, an American accent...look, it's Clark Kent!

New laptop

Well, the day has arrived. I finally bought the long-awaited laptop. No more fans blowing hot air, getting hit by errant elbows or breathing secondhand smoke in the various internet cafes strewn about town. I was excited to hit up one of the many spots around here offering free wifi, which seems to be just about every other place. I opted for the cafe across the street from my hotel. I hope all the places around here aren't this slow.

Now I'm sitting here ready for a beer and ready to tear off somebody's head. I can't type without this overly-fucking-sensitive touchpad somehow moving the cursor to a previous paragraph, highlighting a section and deleting it before I can lift the offending finger. Fuck you! That did not happen in the internet cafes. And my connection speed was also a lot faster back in the olden days. I've got five bars, but it feels like one. It had better be because Windows is downloading the latest updates. It's been stuck on 49% complete for the past twenty minutes. Fuck you Windows!

I was in a good mood. And now - if you could see me now. I'm glad you can't. Muttering to myself when the cursor changes position and gritting my teeth. It's like someone keeps throwing sticks in my spokes. I'm just about to fall off everytime. You know, about to lose it. And now my battery is low, it's like the computer is rubbing it in. And this girl on the side wall is updating her blog. Everyone has a blog. It's such an original idea. As if we all have such captive audiences. And then there are these French people to my left who are having a good time. Fuck you for having a good time!

I'm going to have a good time later. I promise you that. I think it will be after I put away this computer and stop thinking about the ghost that keeps fucking moving my cursor. Nobody interrupts my flow like this. Nobody. I apologize for all the inappropriate language. If you are offended, I am really fucking sorry. It's like somebody is squeezing my swollen tongue and all the toxins are flowing the fuck out. It feels good to swear sometimes, doesn't it? Admit it. I'm feeling better already.

But I'm not done yet. I can feel the oil purging from the pores on my face even in this overly air-conditioned space. I need a good scrub down, if only I had a loofah. I can't believe that's how you spell that word. It just looks ridiculous. I've never wished for one of those before. I'll probably see a street vendor hawking them as I leave this place. I was just kidding. I don't want a fucking loofah! Get away from me. Don't you dare touch me with that.

I need to wash this terrible taste out of my mouth. No, not with soap, but thanks for the suggestion. I had a foul granny apple muffin and some sour orange juice to wash it down. No more Western food for me. Actually, the orange juice was pretty good. My bitterness must have changed the residual flavors. I need to get the toothbrush and toothpaste on that as quickly as possible. Well, I feel a little bit better. If anyone's listening, thanks for that. I still feel like breaking something, but the urge is not nearly as strong. At least it's a step in the right direction.

Hotel madness

I arrived back in Saigon a couple weeks ago. It was after midnight. I actually thought ahead and phoned in a reservation earlier that day. It was at a hotel I frequented earlier in my trip. The $5 room was taken so I took the bigger room for twice the price. It sufficed. After enjoying the luxury of air conditioning and twice the space, I never took up the option of downgrading to the $5 room.

I would be in need of a room for a month since I am taking a four-week course. They gave me the option of $250 for the month instead of a daily rate of $10. I naturally couldn't decide and looked around in quieter neighborhoods away from the hordes of backpackers. They were unfortunately all full. And so, I stayed on. The people at my hotel were nice enough and it was centrally located to pretty much anything I needed.

After a few days, I tired of walking up the narrow steps to C2, my room on the third floor. And I tired of having two twin beds instead of one big one. So, they gave me A2. This was nice. Just a short jaunt up the stairs and I was home. But a new set of problems emerged. I could hear activity in the lobby, which only compounded my perpetual state of agitation. And more importantly, I had an old air conditioner that shook, rattled and blew with such furor that I couldn't sleep without an ear plug in the one ear that wasn't against my pillow.

So, after a week, I asked to switch rooms again. B2 became available and I moved my shit upstairs. I figured the third time would be a charm. I was wrong. The place reeked of cigarette smoke. Its intensity didn't dissipate until I woke every morning in the artificially cool air. Speaking of which, it took all night to cool that room. The air conditioner was a huge, steaming piece of shit. It blew cold air so slowly that I hardly knew it was on. Unless maybe if I went outside.

At this point in my residence at the Tan 58 Hotel, I didn't care anymore. I was tired of moving around and decided to stay there for a couple more weeks. Primarily to save money, but also to stop fucking around and wasting time. The hotel staff, comprised of young folks working at the travel agency downstairs, were all nice to me and that accounted for something too.

Well, one of them was a bitch. She told me yesterday that my "month of occupancy" started when I switched to B2, which means I'd have to stay at the hovel for nearly another month instead of the two weeks I anticipated. It made sense since I hadn't officially decided to stay until recently, but funk that. I thought they would allow me some time to think about it. I was wrong.

I told her I would check out tomorrow. She said it was up to me. I said again, I'm checking out tomorrow. I found new digs a few doors down. A better, cheaper place. I went to the ATM, paid the skank (that's how I felt at the time) and went about business as usual. This morning, I checked out as promised. And it felt good too.

txt msg pt2

HI TYLER! ARE U HEALTH GOOD? WHAT ARE U DOING?HAVE U FIND WORK?
Hi. I am in HCMC. I start school tomorrow. I'm not working. I will be studying. How are u?
I'M NOT GOOD.AT HN,IT'S RAINING. TODAY I DON'T WORK.I'M tired.
Sorry. I hope u feel better. I wish it was raining here. It is too hot.
DO U NEED TO SEND A LITTLE RAIN TO ME? HERE'S BIG RAIN!
That was funny. I think you mean "Do u need me to send a little rain to YOU?" Yes, please!
I'm bad! why do u like me? ac...! i hate u! because u r funny me.
u are funny to me. i hope u never hate me.
I'll hate u if u do me sad.do u want me to teach vn? and u teach e for me.
I won't make u sad. I think it is very hard to teach E to u if i live in Hcmc. Maybe if i come back to HN...
I HOPE U'LL COME BACK. TONIGHT WHERE DO U STAY?U EAT DINER? U SHOULD SLEEP EARLY.DON'T SLEEP LATE.KEEP YOUR HEALTH.

..."ring ring" went my phone, but i was unable to pick up in time. i called her back and she was then it was clear she could read better than she could aurally comprehend. she told me to send her a text. thanks for calling...

YOU should sleep early because u are tired. I go eat dinner now then i study. I stay at hotel.
UH.U GO TO HAVE TO DINER THEN U HAVE TO COME BACK AT YOUR HOTEL AND STUDY HARD! U HAVE TO SLEEP AT 10 PM.OK? I DON'T UNDERSTAN U SAY.I JUST UNDERSTAND U WRITER. I AM VERY BAD!
U can study too and then we can talk together. I will try to learn VN. I will be lucky if i sleep by 12! Too much to do
ANH HOC BAI DI NHE.E DI NGU DAY MAI E PHAI DI HOC SOM(U STUDY.I GO TO BED NOW. TOMORROW I HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL EARLY.)

the next day...
Ahhh! I hate school! I hate homework! It's too hot! Ban co khoe khong?
I am learning e. u have to go! i'm fine.
I wish i could help u with E. I still go to school. I am tired now. Bye.
U NEED TO EAT TO DINER.AND SLEEP EARLY.I'M WORKING.HAVE A SLEEP GOOD.
Just eating dinner now..late. i don't listen. U sleep good too
YES, SIR! HI...HI...BYE!GOOD NIGHT.I STILL WORKING.
U are working? Then STOP texting!! ha..ha

ten days later...
2!HOW ARE U?HAVE U MISSED ME?IS GOOD YOURWORK?
hello! i am tired. School is busy. YES i miss your pretty face. Do u miss me? Are u good?
YES,I MISS U TOO.I GOOD.WHEN DO U COME BACK TO HN?
I just came back from school. LONG day! I will teach in Hcmc first then maybe HN. will u see me if i come back?

the next day...
I guess u don't want to see me. FINE! It is so hot. What do u do this weekend?
WHAT ARE U DOING?I STILL WORK SAME EVERYDAY.I JUST FINISH WORK.I'M COMING BACK TO HOUSE.I WANT TO SEE U BUT I DON'T KNOW WHEN U COME BACK.

Motorbikes

click to enlarge

Eargasms

Have you ever had your ear wax removed? Yeah, neither had I. Not until earlier last week when I was bored out of my mind and was wondering what to do. A classmate of mine spoke of this procedure in passing a day or so earlier. I was intrigued. I visualized the sensation of warm wax running out of my ears and then being even more aurally sensitive.

I would have likely regetted the decision had I come out with better hearing. The honking and noise is barely tolerable as it is. The only time I wish I had better aural receptors is when I utilize the crappy headphones at each and every internet cafe. Then I think my hearing is bad. Especially when the volume on both the music player and the computer is set to high.

This procedure involved a headlamp, a long probe, some cotton balls and the skilled hands of a ear-wax-removing technician. There were additional instruments, but I declined the opportunity to turn and look just in case my hearing was damaged forever. It was fun just to make someone clean out my ears.

It was the first time I've had aural sex. I've done it plenty of times by myself in the privacy of my own home. Twice a day is sometimes common. But it gives me greater pleasure to have someone perform the deed on me rather than to always be the one performing this ritual of self-satisfaction. Ok, seriously it wasn't that good. I've done better, but that's because I know how I like it.

Mangosteen

Have you ever heard of a mangosteen? Yeah, yeah, you know what a mango is, but I'm talking about a mangosteen. Still clueless? To be honest, I had only heard of them. I had no idea what they looked like until I finally realized what these guys were hawking from their bicycles.

Look at the picture. They are purple. And they are expensive. I can't say what they taste like because I have yet to introduce them to my salivary glands. I want to, but I've been busy. And that for once, is not a lie. Only a partial fabrication and by that I mean I have been busy, perhaps not busy enough to prevent me from buying one, but still.

Anyway, I'm just babbling. And now two weeks later, I'm back. Really. I felt like I couldn't write about mangosteens if I hadn't actually tasted one. I finally tried one and unfortunately, I still can't tell you what they taste like. I prefer jackfruit, dragonfruit, mango, the list goes on and on. These suckers are expensive apparently because they produce only one time a year. They start at exorbitant prices, as high as 200,000 vnd per kilo. That's about $12. Now they are about 50,000 vnd per kilo or $3.

There are companies selling mangosteen juice online for about $40 for less than a liter. It is touted as the latest and greatest cureall. I haven't tried it and at those prices, I probably never will. The phytonutrients will overpower your body's store of toxins and create a new you! You will be cured of your chronic diarrhea, your runny nose, your internal strife and your wife's menstrual cramps. It does it all!

I have a new friend who loves them. She bought a kilo and finished them off. Well, she shared them. It's good to know people indulge the way I do. All the way. Dang it, you only have a big pack of Oreos? I guess I have to eat them all. You're only selling an entire pineapple? Ok, twist my arm. Oh my goodness, you just served me enough rice for a family of four! Well, I wouldn't want it to go to waste...

Dang it!

Well, Mr. Indecisive finally made a purchase. I really can't stand being the way I am sometimes, but I hate making a decision and then finding myself unhappy with it. So, I guess I'd rather take my time than make a rash decision.

My most recent decision, aside from the food I've eaten today, involved buying a helmet. I'm tired of getting on the back of a moto, squeezing my head into the helmet and then having the strap cinch the hell out of my neck. That's not fun. And more importantly, it doesn't look good either. You have to be fashion conscious.

I went around the other night with a friend looking for a helmet. We stopped at many places and naturally, I could not decide. I can't buy without a mirror so the makeshift "shops" on the sidewalk were of no use to me. Even if they have the cheapest helmets you will ever find. I don't mind spending a little bit more to protect the contents of my cranium.

Yesterday, I decided I had to make this purchase. Cross it off my list of things to do. I found a place, they of course tried to overcharge me and we negotiated. One fit me really well and it looked good enough. Possibly even quite stylish. The other one, cooler in nature, seemed a bit tight, so I chose function over fashion. But I wasn't lamenting my decision because I thought I may have underestimated the coolness of the helmet I actually purchased.

Once I got home, I took a closer inspection at the helmet's overall character. It had writing on the top from front to back and some flashy design on the sides. I think I bought a religious helmet. It's too late now, but I want to exchange it. I don't think anyone else would recognize the religious nature of the helmet, but I can and it irritates me. That's the reason I'm indecisive in the first place! To avoid being unhappy with anything I buy.

It's not the end of the world. Oops, I didn't mean to bring up the apocalypse. Seriously, it's just flowing. I will get over this. But if I happen to come across any paint thinner, I might try to see what happens. In the meantime, I need to buy some other things. The process is laborious. I can barely choose what to eat for breakfast.

I agonize over decisions like this. Ok, I don't agonize, but I know if I'm not happy with my first choice, I'll lament my woes for hours. And there are far more important things to be doing than lamenting one's choice for breakfast. Well, one day I may get it straight. Keep the faith, Tyler. Oh no, more religious babble! This helmet is going straight to my brain.

I inhaled

So I caved. I couldn't take it any longer. I bought an inhaler. I just can't breathe very well and I've decided to try and mask the symptoms and ignore them altogether. I just hope this won't manifest itself down the road as a different problem requiring a different set of pharmaceuticals, which I will undoubtedly swear by at that point as the end-all, cure-all for all of modern day society's ills. You never know what they put in these drugs to keep you wanting more.

My current drug of choice happens to be Salbutamol. It "is a short-acting β2-adrenergic receptor agonist used for the relief of bronchospasm in conditions such as asthma and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease." I don't think I have chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and I could have asthma, but I think it's just a bunch of hot air. Basically, I think the heat is doing it to me. That combined with a little anxiety and a lot of exhaust. I feel like I'm smoking an exhaust pipe.

What it boils down is that I am suffering from shortness of breath. Otherwise known as dyspnea in the medical world. I am not suffering from shortness of breath upon exertion, which is another thing. Well, who knows, I could be, I'd have to exert myself first to find out. But I figure if I'm having trouble when I'm idle, I'm probably going to have bigger issues once I get moving.

The only time I seem to be free of issues is at night in the comfort of my air-conditioned hotel. And I should say relatively free of issues. I still have the occasional grasp for air that is unfulfilled. I am immediately reminded of the time I had my wisdom teeth pulled. Whatever they put over my face and told me to breathe, whatever that was, I want some now. That was the most blissful breathing I can remember since I left the womb.

My feeling is that my dyspnea is related to the humidity. The air is so sticky, the oxygen must be stuck to it. That is my mental picture of the situation. Add to this some diesel fumes, dehydration, desperation and desire and well, it can only be more difficult to extract the oxygen from the air. If you can call it that.

Air is technically a mixture of gases roughly containing "78.08% nitrogen, 20.95% oxygen, 0.93% argon, 0.038% carbon dioxide, trace amounts of other gases, and a variable amount (average around 1%) of water vapor." Thank you Wikipedia. I'm pretty sure there are not just trace amounts of these other gases that I'm breathing. I wonder if that means I'm breathing something else.

I'm not too fond of the headaches I've received from Salbutamol inhalation. I'm hoping I get something else out of it than that. Even if I just get the placebo effect I will be happy with the "results." I just recently thought of a more natural drug that is supposed to enhance relaxation. You would think it would enhance breathing too. I don't necessarily want to be an inhaler, but I think I'd prefer that to having an inhaler. We shall see.

Street vendors in Hanoi

Yum, yum, yum! Surely you don't think I'm serious. I'm definitely never serious. And please don't ever call me Shirley. These pigs and ducks were as common on the streets in Hanoi as were dead rodentia. I preferred to see the dead mice or rats than the horrified expressions on some of the birds that looked like they were boiled alive. Or perhaps were taking their last gasp of breath when their expressions were frozen in time. I actually became quite accustomed to seeing stuff like this and it really didn't bother me. It is life after all. Reality. The facts of life. You take the good, you take the bad and there you have...the facts of life.
These were some of my favorite street vendors. Even though I never bought any flowers, I loved seeing all the colors in the enormous basket on the back of a bicycle. And I love the way that people sell things on the street in Vietnam. You are never too far from someone selling what you want. That person is busy? Well, try around the corner and there's probably another person. Sure, there are the annoying people hawking shit you wouldn't take if it were free, but again you take the good, you take the bad and there you have...

Text message "conversations"

So, the girl at the Ladybird Restaurant flat out denied me, which was pretty funny, but I did not give up hope. There was still a chance she did not understand me. So I gave here a note with my phone number. Later that evening, I received a text.

I still have all the texts she sent me because my phone stores them. Not because I am psycho. The texts I sent in response to her messages have since had their places taken by other texts. This enables me to make myself sound better, but not that much better, than I really sounded in those series of text conversations, which I bring to you now.

HELLO TYLER. I am huong. Do you sleep?
Hi Huong. I am reading. What are you doing? Are you going back home?

yes.I am coming back home.what time do u sleep?
I will sleep at 11pm. How far do you live? Do you drive motobike?

about 5km.I go by bicycle.I don't drive motobike.
What are you doing tomorrow? Can I see you sometime?

I go to shool.see you tomorrow.good night
This last text was sent quickly and before I had a chance to respond, she followed up with the next one.

I think I can't because I don't have freetime.
I don't know about that. It's okay to tell the truth. It's okay if you don't like me.

WHY do u say? I'm a student. I learn during day and night i have to work.i just see u at restaurant.sorry
No problem. I understand. See you at the restaurant. I am sorry to bother you.

The morning after (I wish)...

GOOD MORNING.DO U GET UP?I GET UP.WHAT WILL U DO TODAY?I HAVE TO PRACTICE AT THE TRAINING RESTAURAN IN THIS MORNING.SEE U TO NIGHT.HAVE A NICE DAY!
This last text was sent about 6am. I was still asleep, but heard the jingle through my earplugs. I did not respond til the afternoon.
I just got up! Just kidding. I am doing nothing today. I don't think I am coming to the restaurant tonight. I need to give you a break. Have a good day.

THANKS.SEE AGAIN.

The next day...

Hi, are you home now? Sorry I did not talk much tonight. I am a little embarrassed.
YES.ARE U READING.TONIGHT WHY DID U EMBARRASSE?

Yes, I am reading. I was embarrassed because your friends know everything. I am going to bed soon.
NO,THEY DON'T KNOW THING AND ME TOO.I DON'T THINK U LIKE ME.I GO TO BED NOW, TOO.WHY DO U LIKE ME?

You are very nice to me, you have a great smile and co gai dep!
The last little bit means "beautiful girl."

The next day...

Hello. I fly to HCMC today. I'll see you next time!
WHAT TIME DO U FLY?WHAT DO U DO IN HCM CITY?HAVE A GOOD TRIP! I'LL WAIT U TO COME BACK

I fly at 9:45. I'm on the bus now. I'm taking a 4 week class. Then i will teach English. In Hcmc or hanoi.
IT'S VERY GOOD! I WISH U'LL SUCCESS

thanks. are u busy tonight at the restaurant? i came in for lunch today...
NO,IT'S SOSO! I JUST WORK IN THE EVERNING. I HOPE I'LL SEE U EARLY.

U won't see me! I'm at the airport. I went to eat at 2pm.
UH.HAVE A GOOD TRIP AND LUKY. HEATH GOOD!

I apparently found this response not to my liking and chose not to respond. It is kind of a generic "hey, have a good one! May you be healthy and lucky!" I think in actuality, I had to turn my phone off for my flight and then it was too late to respond upon my arrival and then I just plain forgot. Sorry. Besides, I wanted to end my stalker tendencies at least until my next trip to Hanoi.

The End.

Ladybird Restaurant

There's this little place on Hang Buom street that you should check out. I went once a month ago with my friend Danielle. That's when I first started envisioning having a home here and going out to eat at this friendly restaurant once a week. You know, envisioning actually having a life. That sounded good.

I came back to Hanoi for the second time a few weeks ago. I took my new acquaintance from the bus to the Ladybird and enjoyed the cheap, delicious food a second time. We watched mice run up and down the walls and we flirted with the waitresses. We weren't those guys necessarily, they initiated the conversation. At least that's my recollection.

Then I went to Sapa and upon returning to Hanoi I decided to go to the Ladybird for my first dinner back in town. This time I was alone. But chatted with some Australian newspaper cartoonist and his second wife on the balcony while I enjoyed a savory vegetable curry. And I noticed the waitresses again. This time, there was a third lovely lady. Do I sound like a perv here? Because I really feel like one. Oh well.

So, my second night in town...hmmm...how about dinner at the 'bird? Why change a good thing? This time I was really eating by myself, but I had my book. Even if I didn't have my book, I don't care much anymore. I can read the back of my napkin. Or stare at people and make them uncomfortable. Whatever works. This time, I enjoyed a nice stir-fried aubergine with black pepper sauce.

I was beginning to feel uneasy about my repeat appearances. The ladies did say "See you tomorrow" upon my departure, which made it slightly more tolerable to walk through the doors on the third night. The third time's a charm I thought. Not really.

But I did ask one of the girls, who was definitely absolutely most certainly flirting with me, if she'd be interested in getting a drink. "You want to see the menu?" No. I tried again. Maybe YOU and I can get a coffee or tea? "Oh, you want a cocktail?" No. I tried again. Would you like to get a drink WITH me? "No." Yes.

The next day, I chose a different restaurant. It left me missing everything about the old place. Decent enough food, cold enough beer, but no character, no cute waitresses and no mice running up walls. So, last night I returned to my old haunt for the fourth time in five days. I think there's a picture of me on the cash register that says "Look out for this guy."

And then today, since today is my finale in Hanoi, at least for now, I went back for a late lunch. To throw them off guard. A surprise attack. They must think I live and die by their food. Well, I do live by it as it provides about half of my daily caloric intake. Today I ordered something different. Well, it was standard fare, but new for me at this place. I went out my comfort zone and ordered fried noodles with vegetables.

I got my plate and was disappointed to see the instant ramen noodles. I swear I'm going to learn how to ask in Vietnamese what kind of noodles they serve. I hate instant noodles! I was momentarily stunned by the lack of proper noodles in this fine establishment. I was even more turned off by my new waitress. No tip for you.


When I dug in to the noodles, I was instant-ly surprised. Pun of course intended. They were good. Like when you go camping and ramen actually tastes good. Strangely, so does the instant oatmeal. Anyway, the point is, I wasn't camping. But see, the ramen tasted good. That old lesson learned again. Never judge a book by it's cover. No, that's not how I wanted to end this one. Let me try again. If at first you don't succeed, try try again. No, that's not it either. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Slow and steady wins the race. Oh, for fuck's sake!

New moral: Just because you have an ugly waitress and the food looks as bad as the person serving it, doesn't mean that is necessarily the case. -Aesop

Hanoi part IV

I have been in Hanoi for six days now. Soon to be leaving on a jetplane, don't know when I'll be back again. I do like it here, but don't like to be doing absolutely nothing. Which is what I'm doing. Or not doing. Whatever!

I missed an opportunity to take this teaching English as a foreign language course because I kept procrastinating. Nothing unusual there. Oh, I'll fill out the application form when I get to Hanoi. Yeah, good idea. They were full. I snoozed, I losed.

So, that left me with option e, which was to take another less reputable course in Ho Chi Minh City the following week. Seeing I had no other options other than to remain idle, which I've had my fill of, I decided to register for the course.

Now I'm heading back to the extreme temperatures of the south when I can barely handle the heat and humidity in the north. I will seek out air-conditioned environs whenever possible. I will be taking an afternoon siesta. I will take advantage of the early morning and early evening hours. Otherwise I will just be a giant ball of greasy sweat.

Back to doing nothing. I have had six relatively lonesome days here in Hanoi. I think I have taken five photographs. I don't feel like a tourist anymore, but I certainly look like one. I have been reading a lot. I just totally lied. I have been spending a lot of time on the Internet. I have been wandering aimlessly. I have been eating too many sweets.

And for whatever reason, I cannot seem to breathe. I haven't had this much trouble since I was in Little League trying to catch my breath before I dug in at the plate. I think they took me out of the bubble too early when I was a kid. Now, the troublesome inhalations are back and I don't know the exact cause.

It could be anxiety. I have a lot of that when I'm not sure what I'm doing. It could be the heat. The lack of exercise. The air pollution. The food. The women. I mean, they do tend to take my breath away. But really, I think they make me breathe harder if anything. Maybe I need a woman. You think?

On the balcony

I am sitting on my fourth floor balcony - yes, I have a balcony - overlooking Han Can street. It is noisy as usual and the honking really drives me to the brink, but what can I do? I like my location here and the view from above, but I would not choose to sleep with earplugs on a nightly basis.

...

There is finally a breeze. It is the most beautiful thing that has happened since I woke up this morning. It feels rejuvenating. It really does. It is not even hot here yet and I am wiping my brow more often than my ass. And I am having some trouble breathing, which I am attributing to my own anxiety of what will happen next, but in reality it is also probably affected by the air pollution and my lack of recent exercise. I just hope it subsides because the bastard in me easily finds its way out.
...

I am really happy for this great big tree with beautiful green leaves. It makes me happy. And the eclectic mix of buildings around here in varying states of decay. And the mannequins I can see in the fourth floor window across the street. And the dead plants in the planter box. The broken blinds. The woman working in the second floor kitchen. Oh this breeze is fantastic.

...

There are so many aerials on the surrounding buildings. I had not noticed that before. Usually I only see laundry. Everywhere. I definitely need to get in the flow here. Otherwise why the fuck am I here? Being a fly on the wall is fun for a while until you really want to see what's going on. You have to get off the sidelines and get into the game. Yes, I am really getting into it now. But seriously, I want to learn Vietnamese and how will I do so just bumming around? Get involved. I want to have a purpose. So get one. Just fucking do something and quit bitching about everything.

...

This whole watching the world go by is great until you become jealous that you're not really engaged like everyone else seems to be. I don't think people are engaged as it seems, but definitely more than me. How could they not be?

...

I liken it to seeing others out having a good time and thinking why am I not doing that? And then when I am doing that, I'm thinking why am I not doing something else? I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. I just need to get active and stop thinking so much. Occupy my mind, get a job, meet people, have things to do, become one with Vietnam. It is time.

...

The bats are out on this fine, fine evening. The smiling mouth of the moon is too. It's the first time I've noticed either of them. I guess I haven't spent so much time on my balcony. I need to eat dinner soon, well that's absurd to say since I'm not hungry. I'm just conditioned to think so because it's nearly "dinner time." I do, however, need to shower off some of this stink and keep breathing one breath at a time. I am feeling better already.

...

For some unknown reason, this gad-damn blog editor will not allow me to put spaces between my paragraphs. So I have added dots... It pisses me off and needed to be said.

Not nice

If you asked me what this is, I couldn't properly tell you. I was walking down the street doing my thing, which means I was doing nothing and I saw these two dogs scampering sideways in the opposite direction. It was odd, really. It was like they were connected at the rear and I thought maybe it was a sexual position I had not previously entertained. Man, that would hurt, I thought.

I had to take a closer look at the situation so I changed direction and decided to do a drive by. Or a walk by, whatever it was. At first, I thought their tails must be tied together. And I thought that was pretty fucked up. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that their balls were actually tied together. Their balls. Their testicles. Their life-giving genitalia. Now that is seriously fucked up.

Let me ask you this. Who does this type of thing? I didn't see for sure how this ball tying was achieved, I just know I saw a couple of stretched out sacks. I had no intentions of making this a bigger spectacle so I decided not to get on my hands and knees to see how it was done. I was hoping my camera would tell a better story, but this third dog decided to tickle their testes right as I took the picture. Maybe he was trying to untie the knot. I think he was unsuccessful.

Paranoia strikes again

Yesterday was a good day. I was hoping for some carryover. I don't know what happened. It all began this morning over a cup of tea. A cup of Lipton tea and a spoonful of sugar. No more hard drugs for me I tell you. That means no black tea, no coffee and no more rice wine. Well, I'll do my best to at least limit my consumption.

For whatever reason I can't have tea on an empty stomach. I felt ill and jittery for a few hours, then just jittery and ultimately quite paranoid. I can't breathe right, always in seek of the perfect breath. And people are watching me. I hate that. I eat alone a lot. Sometimes out of preference. Sometimes I have no choice. Why are you looking at me? Why do you pity me? I have to eat don't I? I have to go.

So I go upon completion of my meal and everyone along the way is still watching me. I want to hide, but my hotel is still a ways away. A ways away, I like that. I decide to drown out the paranoia with a feeding frenzy. It was a feeble attempt. The bag of peanut candy only filled me up and did nothing to reduce my labored breathing or the business inside my head. I alternate between watching an eight-ball tournament and the HBO special, but I still can't relax. I am way too tense.

I feel like kicking in an involuntary kind of way. My face is greasy and I feel itchy. A beer would definitely deaden the activity in my head, but it is too early. Besides, I am doing my best to quench my thirst in other ways. I just want to take a nap and wake up and have it be normal again. Have me be sane again. That might be difficult. Maybe bring me as close to my prior level of sanity as possible. Please. Thank you. Amen.

Maybe I should start over. Get in the shower again. Shave. Brush my teeth. Change my underwear. Put on some new clothes. Then try it all over again. And if it doesn't work this time, then I'm grabbing a beer. Because I can't deal.

More Sapa

I spent 10 nights in Sapa on my second go round. What can I say - I have a lot of pics. Here are a few more.
"Hey, you buy from me? Buy from me later?" The H'mong women were relentless in their selling techniques. Fortunately most of them stopped trying to sell me their wares after they realized they were wasting their time.
The main road heading down into town was often clogged with locals, tourists, motorbikes, minibuses and sometimes buffalo. I really dug this place. My favorite restaurant was Sapa Smile - you should go there and get the baby corn with cashew stir fry. They do it up right. You'll have to splurge a whole dollar fifty.
From left to right, this is Som and Mai. They are H'mong and good examples of the friendly folk I met during my stay. Most of the H'mong, well at least those who spend a lot of time in town, know English pretty well. It's really quite amazing and quite nice to be able to interact with them.
I can't remember this little cutie's name, but she was so pleasant and incredibly nice. It's a shame both her parents were out every night trying to make money selling drugs.
The girl in the last picture took this picture on my last day in town. This is me and Ker. This was before I took the night train and my socks and shirt really started to smell. You should have been in my compartment when I took off my shoes. It was really quite embarrassing. It happens to the best of us. At least I wasn't the one farting. The guy on the other top bunk really let one fly.

Trekking

I went on a three day "trek" on my second visit to Sapa. I say "trek" because the word seems to imply something more hardcore than what we were doing. It was hiking and staying overnight in local villages. I'd say a three-day outing would be more appropriate, but still, that doesn't properly describe the situation either. An outing is a better word to describe a picnic and this was no picnic.

This cat was a member of my guide Ker's family. From now on I will reference Ker as my friend and not my guide. Just so you know. Even this cat seemed to have something mystical about it. Probably had something to do with the light filtering through the window. To me, it even looks like he meows a different language. Who knows, maybe he does.

Disclaimer: I did not actually turn this cat upside down to check its genitalia. I assumed it was a male cat, but I could have equally assumed the opposite. Sorry. I am a man. Sometimes I tend to use the word 'he' before I use the word 'she'. And I never use 'he/she' or 'he or she' because I hate that. It just doesn't flow.

I like this picture, that is all. Some kind of weed with a guy plowing in the background.
And, well, same goes for this picture. Taken from the window of our room of the misty mountains and a neighboring home. Maybe that didn't need saying.
Rice paddies everywhere. I love this landscape, but not this picture. Not so much - it is just okay.
This is Ker surveying the scene from above. We had just hiked from Ban Ho and were on our way to Thanh Phu and then to Nam Sai. It was time to take a breather. We took many a breather along the way in between bouts of me slipping and falling on my ass. It was pretty funny. You definitely had to be there.
Not only rice is grown in these parts. They had recently planted corn and they also grew potatoes and other greens. The food was good. I only had corn once mixed with rice and it must have been a different variety from the one grown back home. The kernals were huge. That's what she said.
There were hot springs in the village of Ban Ho. This was my favorite village due to it's location down the valley, which always tended to get more sunshine. That is a definite plus for me. The "hot" springs were actually lukewarm, but it was still a nice place to relax in the late afternoon. I'm sure it was a nice place in the morning too, but I can't say for sure.
It was sad to leave the village on the third day. It was piping hot and I sweat through my tank top. That never happens. Normally it's just my underwear.

Pinochio Hotel

Welcome to the Pinochio Hotel in Sapa where "youarealways welcomes!" This was one of the cheaper options in town. You might guess that I stayed here. You would be correct. In fact, I stayed five nights. The first three were hassle free and I enjoyed flirting with the cute, married Vietnamese girl at the front desk. So?

I came back to the hotel one morning after some of the slowest Internet connectivity since 1998. It was early and I was still undecided if I would stay another night. I had some time since checkout wasn't until 12pm. It said so on the sign posted in each and every room. I wasn't actually in every room, but my room specifically stated 12pm. Apparently, this was subject to change according to the whims of hotel management.

I was checked out while I was gone. All of my shit was packed into my bag and into various plastic bags. Along with the rubbish. Thanks for that. They did apologize for not telling me that my room was reserved that night. And the people arrived that morning and were waiting. But still. So I turned into an asshole. Not a raging asshole mind you - just a quiet, sighing, talking under my breath type asshole. It was justifiable. It was I tell you.

After going through my belongings to ensure I wasn't missing something, I repacked it all on the floor of the hotel lobby. Sorry for the inconvenience. Then I thought about the hassles of checking into another hotel. And the fact that this whole episode was not surprising. Service is spotty in almost every hotel and restaurant I've been to in Vietnam. And that is an understatement.

So I decided to forgive. It is much easier to let it go and exhale. Ahhhh, it will be ok. And I took another room. And told the cute, married woman she'd have to sleep in my room that night. Not really. Is it wrong to dream?

Sapa revisited

This is Sapa in the north of Vietnam. It is my favorite spot of all the places I have visited on this trip. It's all about the people. Very friendly, warm and beautiful. Well, except for one girl who spat and cursed 'fucking shit' every time she saw me. Not so warm and friendly. I've decided it's impossible to be friends with everyone.

For the most part, Sapa was like the above picture. Fogged in and chilly. But more often that not, it would clear by midday and the mountains would loom in the mist. Very mystical place and full of character. Reminded me of a Swiss ski chalet. Minus the snow. Not that I have much of a basis for comparing it to a Swiss ski chalet. I'm just using my imagination. We should all do that more often.
This is Sapa on a gorgeous day. Well, maybe not so gorgeous if you live in the village blanketed by fog. But this is so common, that I'm sure the people are used to it. The homes are small and built low to the ground to keep them as warm as possible.

I preferred the villages farther down the valley where it was warmer and the homes were bigger. I just completely relaxed in the warmer climate. I didn't take my clothes off or anything, I just felt very comfortable. At home you might say. My guide on the other hand, who was used to the higher elevations, found it too hot. I also found I really liked houses made with bamboo.

Fast money

Has anyone perfected the art of making some easy money? Or making money grow on trees? If so, please let me know as soon as possible. I highly anticipate your reply. I'm getting tired of spending and want to be earning. I don't like watching my bank account dwindle. You might suggest I get a job. If you didn't hear me the first time, I said easy money.

As much as I don't like to work, I wouldn't mind doing something. Maybe not 40 hours a week though. That my friend, is pushing it. I'm not a 40 hour a week kind of guy. Let's start with 20 and we'll see how it goes. Anyone have any bright ideas? Come on. I'm waiting.

Yeah, I could teach English. And I might just do that. A while back, I met this guy who was selling goods he found in the market on eBay. And he was seemingly doing pretty well. But I can't bring myself to knowingly sell counterfeit goods. I'm that morally superior. Yeah, yeah, if only I knew exactly how he did it. Damn!

Amerika

There, I fixed it. Originally I had the flag flying upside down. I wasn't trying to be disrespectful so I changed it. Are you happy now? No reason for getting bent out of shape. I wasn't joining the mujadeen. I was just wondering why America, or the USA I should say (because we alone are not America) seems so backwards some times. Even if we are supposedly a "progressive, forward-moving nation." I read that somewhere, thus the quotes.

Sometimes I think we choose to do some things differently, even if we're wrong, just because we can. To keep proving ourselves. To keep saying fuck you to everyone else. It doesn't make any sense to change something if it ain't broken. You know what I'm saying? I'm not sure what I'm trying to say.

I'm not America bashing. We have it good. Even if it has come at the expense of others. Rising to the top usually requires bringing others down. Life is good and I don't have much to complain about. But after traveling for a while I have some questions.

Why don't we use the metric system? It makes more sense. Why do we use Fahrenheit instead of Celsius? Why do we call football soccer? Clearly football came first, you know, the game you play with your feet. So why did we change the name?

Why do we express dates in the MM/DD/YY format? Everyone else seems to put the day first, not the month. After all days make up months and months make up years. Am I missing something? Doesn't that make more sense?

And then let's discuss health care. Ok, let's not discuss it, that would be too complex and incredibly boring. But why don't we have universal health care? How did the pharmaceutical and insurance industries get so much power? And why, why, why do we only have a standard two week vacation? Who invented that one - I'd like to kick his ass.

The End.

Food

There is a lot of meat in Vietnam. A lot of pig, chicken, duck, buffalo, fish, eel, turtle, dog, you name it, they probably have it. There is also a lot of vegetarian food, well not a lot, but enough. From fresh to fried spring rolls, noodle soup, fried noodle, fried rice and many many many fried vegetable stir fry variations. A lot of frying going on. A lot of salting. And a lot of MSGing. Naturally the food is pretty good. And if it's not, there's always pepper and hot chili sauce to drown the offending flavors into something more recognizable and palatable. Unless of course they have used fish sauce. Then you are screwed. It's like somebody shat in your food. To each their own - I can't stand eating shit.

If I am ever ODing on rice, which I often am, I usually find an Indian restaurant, some fruit or some cashews. Or I sit there and visualize a hot bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar, walnuts and raisins and a glass of organic orange juice. Or a steaming hot pita with a heaping plate of falafel, hummus and tabouli. Or a bar of fair trade, 80% dark chocolate. Or a double chocolate chip vegan cookie with a soy chai to wash it down. Or just a burrito with some fresh salsa and guacamole on the side. Oops, I just drooled on the keyboard. Oh, I'm getting horny just thinking about it. I mean hungry. Come on now.

When animals attack

This is not a picture of the buffalo that went wild. There is no way I would have tried to take another picture of that guy. I don't know why he went nuts, I'm just glad he was tied to a short rope and that the rope didn't break. Because otherwise I would be broken.

I have seen a ton of water buffalo throughout southeast Asia and they have always seemed quite tame. Not like the bison in Yellowstone from which you are warned repeatedly to keep your distance. I have bicycled by a herd of buffalo, walked by them in the streets, you know, have just became accustomed to their presence. That was until the other day.

I just wanted a close up of his face with the rope coming out of either nostril and the accumulation of snot on the knots. I asked my guide if she thought it would be okay and as it was, I approached with my camera. As I looked into the viewfinder to frame my shot, I could see this great hulking beast lunging at me from the corner of my eye. He was not a happy buffalo.

Fortunately I was only horned a little on the arm and the rope pulled taut just in time. I jumped back inspecting for damage, breathing heavily and sighing a major phew! Everyone from my guide to the local villagers were surprised by what happened. The buffalo was still chomping at the bit and trying to break free from the rope that kept him in check. I was happy for the rope and for it's strength and for not having a heart attack.

Later on our trek, we passed many more buffalo and I am not the same. They are not the big, friendly giants I had assumed them to be. My guide Ker and I had a good time trying to scare each other with each buffalo we saw. I couldn't help doing a quick visual scan to see where I would try to hide every time. Thankfully from there on out, it was only our imaginations that were running wild.