Rainy Season, for real...

Whoops…so that was a false alarm, about a week early…TODAY beginneth the rainy season. It should be entertaining to see where the serious leaks spring, sinkholes develop, landscaping begins a downward slide, etc.

Last week was pretty quiet, except for the weekend—they’re usually pretty hectic. I had a meeting and dinner with some Heyri people regarding an upcoming project. We went over to the theatre for our tech guy to check it out, and, as I predicted on the way over, I started crying the second I stepped in there. I realized that this is the longest I’ve gone without being on a stage of some sort in at least 20 years. Yep. Hopefully that project will fill at least part of the void here.

Friday night one of our dancers taught a class in the technique of Jose Limon, which was excellent (our dancers have been giving all kinds of classes pretty regularly now that we finally have access to the ONE rehearsal room on campus—with a cement floor—and I go whenever I can). Saturday night a few people came over to my place for some wine and low-key chat; we were all exhausted from the day.

Sunday night, I somehow mustered the energy to join one of the groups going into Seoul to watch the soccer matches—primarily the 4am Korea-France game. We had a big dinner, hit a small dance club for the first game, and then found another spot for the 2 and 4am games. Korea scored the goal that tied the game at 5:40am, which provided a serious second (third?) wind! People in red flooded the city bars, public spaces, and streets, and there was much hollering and whooping and chanting in the daybreak hours. After a bus ride of slaphappy, sleep-deprived giggling, we got home at 8am, I slept until 1, then got out on the bike and to the gym, cleaned my apartment, made dinner and watched a movie before going back to bed.

Tuesday, after lots of laundry and exercise, I went to Geumchon to get my last Hep A and B shots and do some grocery shopping. I got to visit a couple galleries in Heyri before dinner, then went to our EV soccer game. It’s on these nights that I desperately wish I had 20 or so years of soccer experience, like many of the other players. Oh well. I look cool in the uniform… Intended to go to the pub but ended up having a long chat with another disgruntled co-worker who’s looking into other jobs.

Slept like a ROCK, awoke to the rain, and discovered that I was not the only one whose phone had rung at 6am until I finally picked it up—to no answer. Apparently EVERYONE’S phone rang at 6am, and those who were so unfortunate as to live adjacent to someone who wasn’t home for whatever reason got to listen to it until 9am. Yes, these are the daily joys of life at EV—thank goodness we have such wonderful company to buffer/inject humor into the misery! Oy!

I stepped down from my Program Coordinator position, as I expect to be taking so many vacation/leave/sick days, and since they never scheduled me the time to do the job anyway. Many people have asked about the decision, and I’ve discovered that many, possibly even a majority, of people in the ODP program are strongly considering breaking contract. Most interesting.

Hopefully next ‘weekend’ I’ll go somewhere cool and have an adventure to report :>)
s

Other stuff…

Geez, so I was in such a hurry to catch up and post, I left out some fun stuff. Like, if you didn’t get it in the email I sent out to a lot of people, check out the photo from the Korean Folk Village in Suwon (go to the link; you’ll know it when you see it). The best part was that the little girl stooped down for a better look, which sent me and another woman into convulsions of laughter that recurred several times during the day when we saw each other again in passing. Some humor is universal…

Also at the Korean Folk Village, I witnessed other episodes of Koreans “ooooooh-ing and aaaaaah-ing” over “feats” that we’d warrant relatively unimpressive, or at least less so than their reactions would indicate. It strikes me as odd every time—and it never fails to happen.

I took advantage of the relatively low cost of eyeglasses here and treated myself to a new pair (my last ones are FIFTEEN years old, I realized!), which, for the exam, frames and lenses (super crazy 3-cut thick) for $80. Woohoo! Not that I wear ‘em out in public much, but at least I’m more stylin’ at home.

I was definitely spoiled on my birthday; while I didn’t celebrate at EV, I got a few million birthday cards and a care package (chocolate and my Tevas!) from my mom, and stuff from friends and neighbors, like a box of yummies and a dress (that, would you believe, fits perfectly!) from the Potters, and cards galore that are hanging in my room. And lots of emails. Thanks, guys!

Here’s an amusing email we got from the Korean Head Teacher:

“Hello Guys. It is an official policy from admin that students can't buy cup noodle from EV mart any more. We know that kids love cup noodle and they will complain about this. However, students' eating cup noodle in dorms causes some problems. They throw the left over of cup noodle in toilets and even they put chopsticks without any concerns. They have been told by dorm teachers so many times not to do that but they don't listen. Anyway please don't let them buy any cup noodle. It is also not good for them to eat cup noodle late at night.”

Who ever knew that ramen could be so hazardous?

One funny language quirk that is the cause of much confusion: if we ask a question like “We don’t have any kids in the last class, do we?” (when the class indeed will be empty) that’s posed as a negative, our answer would be: “No, (we don’t),” but the Koreans answer “Yes,” as in: “Yes, that’s right, we don’t…” If you’ve been inside all day and say, “It didn’t rain today, did it?” they’ll say “Yes” if it didn’t rain, and “No” if it did. You can imagine… But a bunch of us had a good sit-down and laugh over it. Their way, of course, is much more logical (atypical of Korea) and grammatically sensical than ours.

We finally got the overtime rate: just over $5/hr. Yep, that’s worth my time. Duh.

Koreans love soccer, and have been gearing up for World Cup madness for some time now—stuff is EVERYWHERE. We’re the Reds, and all the standard stuff to wear and wave is available, plus headbands with devil’s horns. And of course, people on their days off who come here are all wearing it—especially the kids. Add that to the many soccer diehards / teachers, and you’ve got some excitement in the air. Last night, Korea won it’s first game against Togo, and yes, we all went nuts. The pub and another restaurant are staying open during the WC so we can watch the games there.

We just had two gorgeous days of sun, which I enjoyed on my bike and in Seoul, and today beginneth the rainy season. And it’s RAINING, people. Supposedly we’ve got a month or so of it on our hands. Yikes. Gotta get me some galoshes.
Later gaters!

Return to EV

(Check out the new links for photos)

Okay, sorry for that last cliffhanger. Yes, I’d had some time to be away and reflect, and was hoping that I’d feel differently about EV when I got back, but that wasn’t the case. And, on Thursday morning, we were called to a meeting before work to essentially learn that we were a) not going to be on a rotating schedule and would never have weekend days off, and b) losing our every-other week Wednesday off. Neither of these stipulations are in our contract, but the Teacher’s Handbook we’d gotten that supposedly answered a lot of our questions--before we signed our contracts--states that our shift would change monthly (between a M-F, Th-Su, or Sat-Tu schedule), and that anyone on a weekend shift would have Wednesdays off to compensate for working weekends, which are super busy and preclude one’s visiting with outside people on normal schedules or going to cultural events that only happen on weekends or pursuing personal extracurricular activities that…happen on weekends.

Now, it’s painfully clear that our program is understaffed and that there aren’t enough people to teach and perform in the way that they think we ought to. So, yes, we need that other day (okay, what we really need is for them to hire more people, but they’ve approved three, which won’t help enough to make a difference). But we weren’t offered any compensation for it, and their not following through on things they said they’d do/provide and asking for us to give, give, give and be patient, patient, patient, flexible, flexible, flexible when they don’t have their act together is all too typical.

All the people in leadership positions in the One Day Program got together for two long meetings to discuss what we should do, as we’re all at the end of our ropes and are offended and angry at the lack of respect the above changes to our disadvantage (among other things) show. We pooled our grievances and suggestions, compiled a formal document of same, and requested a meeting with the Director of Education and the HR Head Teacher. Basically, we were told that they weren’t violating anything in our contract and that they had to do what was best for the program (and we KNOW the time they’re taking from us won’t be enough to make a difference—especially because we can’t use time well here, as there’s no support for anything we do). Apparently taking decent care of their staff isn’t part of the plan. They offered a couple of baby carrots to appease people, and some have a small amount of renewed optimism, but I’m totally unconvinced that anything will get better.

So I’m now thinking in terms of when I’ll be leaving, as it just isn’t worth my time to stick around and wait to see what they’re going to screw up or what mess they’re going to leave us with next. Don’t start asking me for details, because I don’t have any yet. I’ll probably be here through October so that I’ll get my flight here (not return) reimbursed, get the paid week of vacation in early October and have time to organize what I’m doing next (probably travel before returning home. There are TONS of other teaching opportunities here, but I’m missing performance and most likely won’t go that route). There are all kinds of contractual things to consider, like the “annual leave allowance” that’s deducted from our pay each month and won’t be returned if we leave early (about $120/month), so I’m gonna take those leave days, and my sick days, and my vacation days…but it’s all a little tricky in terms of getting the time approved, which depends on when other people are going (there are not enough weeks in the year for all the people in my program to take all their vacation days, we’ve calculated!), blah, blah, blah. But I’m gonna get my money’s worth outta them, doggonnit! Fortunately, the people who have already given notice but haven’t left yet are keeping me posted on all the technicalities they’re discovering, and I’m asking lots of questions myself.

And they’re now only getting their 40 contracted hours/week outta me and not a second more. I’m so used to working long hours--but to a worthwhile end, which isn’t in sight here. It sucks the life out of you to put energy into things that always turn out to be mediocre because there isn’t the support, time, or staff to do anything well. But there are several of us who are keeping tabs on each other and making sure we stop at 6…I’m far from the only pissed-off person here. It’s so sad that it’s come to this, because EV could have been a special place, if anything were done properly. But thank goodness for the great friends I’ve made, and the cultural stuff I have done and will do. All is not lost!

Okay, onto the fun and exciting things adventures since the Vietnam trip! Don and Double D came up on Saturday to hang out for the weekend (they had Memorial Day off, and I’m off on Mondays, so that was great—especially since I’ll never have weekends off to hang out w/Don…). We hit the pub on Saturday night, they did all kinds of fun stuff on Sunday while I worked, then we went out for a huge dinner and watched The Da Vinci Code with a transistor radio on the hill behind a drive-in movie theatre that’s a 15-minute walk from EV. We hit a local bar for a 3000cl beer and silly talk afterwards and got home super late… It doesn’t get much better than that!

We slept in on Monday and went to the pub for their attempt at burgers (a sorry affair, but ya take what you can get). They went home in the afternoon (and Double D left to go back to the States for good the following Friday), and I got in a workout to atone for the intake before that aforementioned annoying meeting.

The next day, however, I went to Bukhansan National Park for a soul-cleansing, spirit-renewing hike. I got there in two hours of mass transiting, and was chatted up (or whatever you call it when there’s minimal common language) by a guy who was heading up the same mountain. He insisted on buying my ticket (inexpensive), and then on a hat (there was no way he was letting me go without one), and indicated that he was doing the same climb that I had planned. So…we headed off. I was more interested in going it alone (and there were plenty of people around; I wasn’t intending to go off into the wilderness by myself or anything), but he was all psyched to be nice, and we didn’t talk much anyway, so what the heck. He was all excited that I worked at EV, and told all the people we encountered. 15 minutes in, he’s ready for a rest, whips out his little sitting pad (for me) and his cucumbers (not a euphemism—common hiking food) and settles down. OH NOOOOOO! I was so not going to stop often…so when we got up, I set out at a good pace and was pretty clear about not being fatigued, hoping that he’d send me off ahead. No such luck, but hey, he kept up more or less. He pointed out the way down for later, which I knew was not the route I wanted to take, so I had hope there…

The summit was a climb up rocks with thick metal cables for aid. Not US-overly safe, and you had to be fit to do it, but I never felt that I was in danger, as the cables were well-placed and ridiculously sturdy. Nonetheless, the Koreans seemed quite impressed that the little whitey girl was up there (well, I’m not really “little,” here in the land of TINY). Of course, all the Korean grandmothers and grandfathers are there, decked out in all their gear, going to all the tippety tops of everything. Hilarious. The view, as expected, was outstanding.

At that point, it was lunchtime, and Mr. Eoh (my adoptive hiking dude) insisted that I share his food, although I’d brought my own. Okay… So, the guy is a retired bank manager, has two sons, one who went to school at U. of Maryland and is now in the Phillipines, and one who is a businessman in Seoul. He and his wife live in Paju. He invited me to dinner at his home, and offered to drive me back to EV from the subway. I was trying to determine exactly what this guy was or was not after. Most likely, he’s a super nice guy who wants to be a good host to the foreign hiker who’s probably around the same age as his kids, one of whom had schooled in her country. But I had no way of reading the situation for sure and had to consider possibly less innocent intentions, though they seem unlikely. I chose the tactic of acting like I was not understanding exactly what he was saying…

We finished lunch and descended from the summit, and I mentioned the names of the temples I wanted to see on the alternate route down…and of course he decided to go with me. He made sure I saw every one, took photos of me there w/my camera, and wanted to have a beer at the end of the hike. Okay, I’m always good for a post-hike beer, and there were places right there at the end of the trail, so we did that and communicated a little more via my phrasebook. He wanted to go out for bulgogi and karaoke, but I pled that I had to get back to EV, as I’d had enough and wasn’t going god-knows-where with him.

Three days later, I had a Korean friend call him (I had his card) to invite him and his wife to EV for a tour and dinner at the pub, as I wanted to return the kindness—on my turf. She and other Korean friends all heard the story and we were together speculating on the nice guy/slime possibilities. We set the next Wednesday evening for the meeting. That night, I didn’t see him at the appointed time, so another Korean friend called him and got no answer. We headed toward the front gate (she was going home) and saw him, in a suit/tie/cologne, sans wife, and he told her that he wanted to take me off campus for dinner. Hah! Dream on, buddy. I said (via my friend) that a meeting had just been called for 8:30 and that I couldn’t leave campus, and he told her that we should then not have dinner that night, but wait until he could bring his wife (she was supposedly at church) and that I should call if I wanted to go hiking. Yeah. So, I don’t think I’ll be hearing from him! Stupid man. Disappointing, though, because I wanted him to be just a super nice guy who brought his super nice wife and we could have a super simple conversation about our hiking adventures over beers. Not. Good story, though, eh? I’ve gotten good mileage out of it here, anyway!

Let’s see…a few of our dancers have been giving dance classes (in the floor-covering-over-cement studio) and I’ve been able to get to a couple, which are great. Anne took me out to a fabulous dinner at a cushy restaurant in Heyri for a belated birthday celebration and to hear of each other’s travels (she’d been to Paris). We had a dessert-and-coffee with some of the artists from Heyri on another night, and it was great to meet real artists of all varieties who actually appreciated that we were performers.

Last Monday and Tuesday I went to Suwon to see Hwaseong Fortress and Hwaseonhaenggung (palace grounds) and the Korean Folk Village, and had dinner with Don (on base at a Chili’s—we had bacon cheese burgers and frozen margaritas!!!) and spent the night in between. Suwon is the capital of Gyeonggi province, and also where the EV headquarters are. The fortress, a World Heritage site, was originally built between 1794 and 1796 during the reign of much-liked King Jeongjo. It is made of earth and stone blocks, is 5.7k long, and almost all of it has been carefully restored. There are lots of command posts and observation points of all varieties and cool views of the city. It’s sort of a long, stretched-out city park with a serious dose of history. The palace grounds are a cool series of courtyards in a walled complex. Lots of rooms were set up with furniture, scenes or artifacts.

The Korean Folk Village, a half-hour shuttle ride from the Suwon train station, was SO COOL! All kinds of traditional houses from different parts of the country, schools, shrines, market, furnishings, tools, gardens, animals, museums, artisans, performances and even a tiny amusement park in a beautiful setting. I spent 5 ½ hours power sight-seeing and still didn’t get to everything. I’m psyched to go back and spend a full day, complete with time to hang out and read a book, as there were lots of great picnic/resting spots. I went on a holiday, and it was busy but not crazy, so on a normal weekday it must be really peaceful. Yay!

Thursday night (June 8th), after our soccer game (we tied the Canadian team), we had a spontaneous party when we discovered that the pub was already closed, which turned into a late night of screaming show tunes. Yes, we’re starved for performance… Hopefully our summer season will provide a little creative satisfaction. I’m in a quartet that will be performing on the street and in a short “show” that is supposed to happen once or twice daily (I’ll believe it when it happens). At least we’re developing some of our own material…if they give us enough time (IF), we can come up with decent stuff.

Friday after work I hung out with two friends who are equally upset with this place but who are going to try to stick it out for financial reasons. We basically tried to cheer ourselves up with vacation plans for a few hours…at least I’m not alone…

Saturday was a day of RAIN. We’re getting a taste of what the rainy season (starting in late June) will be like, and it ain’t gonna be pretty… The park was still busy. I hit the pub at night, as the World Cup was on and there was a Jaegermeister event…ooof. Today, Sunday, looks like more rain, and I’ll hopefully crash and do some travel strategizing tonight.

Tidbits: this past Thursday, my watch started going nuts. It’s a digital triathlon watch and stores 2 times, and I have both East Coast US and Korea, with the latter actually displayed. I checked the time at some point that night, and my watch was on US time. I tried to set it back to Korea time, but it would only display “time 1,” which was US. So I ended up switching “time 1” to Korea time and “time 2” to US time so that the Korea time would be displayed again. On Friday night, however, I looked at my wrist and saw US time again, and this time the watch would only display “time 2,” still US. So I’ve switched it back. So far it’s holding… A sign???

A commonly heard bird here is the cuckoo (I haven’t seen one yet). They sound exactly like you’d think they would. Oh, life’s little ironies.

Onward and upward…
s

VIETNAM!

VIETNAM!!!
Continued the birthday fun with easy, glitch-free travels between Don’s, the airport, and Ben’s place in Hanoi (30 mins and $10 by cab). On the import prohibition list: “…children’s toys having negative effects on personality development, social order and security.” Hah!

Tuesday morning, Sandra took me out for Pho, or breakfast noodles at a little store nearby. Most yummy! This little trip involved crossing the street, which is an experience unto itself. The motorbike traffic never really eases up, so you wait for a moment of the somewhat lighter version, then step out and proceed slowly but steadily…hold yer course! Miraculously, the flow will move around you.

After breakfast, I explored the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum (lots of photos with Vietnamese who wanted one with the westerner), Museum (odd collection of HCM stuff and random modern art/industry exhibits…tons of documents and info), One Pillar Pagoda (designed to resemble a lotus blossom rising out from a sea of sorrow, no less) and grounds before meeting Ben for lunch. We ate at Koto, where disadvantaged kids are trained in the restaurant/service industry and helped with job placement afterwards. More yumminess, and we talked about the game plan for the upcoming week.

Across the street (whew—made it!) was the Temple of Literature (dedicated to Confucius to honor scholars, five separate courtyards and 82 stelae atop stone tortoises to record those who received doctorates), and across another street (whoosh!) was the Museum of Fine Arts (all kinds of traditional Vietnamese art), so I hit those. Then I meandered over to Hoan Kiem Lake (gorgeous!) and saw the emblematic Tortoise Tower and the Jade House Temple, both in the middle of the lake, the latter reached by Rising Sun footbridge.

Onward to a recommended travel agency for info, then shopped around to get a feel for prices (pre- and post-haggling) on traditional souvenir-type goodies before meeting Sandra and Mister Ben (as she very cutely calls him) at home for dinner plans. I foolishly did not pack my flip-flops or other equally ventilated footwear, so S lent me a pair, which I ended up wearing several times during my stay—now that’s a hostess! We ate on the same small street where S and I had eaten breakfast, and sat on (ubiquitous) little plastic chairs at (they’re everywhere!) little plastic tables for a feast of fresh clams, shrimp, veggies and noodles. So good, so very cheap—not that I was allowed to pay for much. The custom is to switch tables after the meal for tea—which won’t happen if you’re just a tourist. After dinner we had wine and fruit back at the apartment and hung out chatting for a while.

So the first day was quite full! It’s quite humid and warm in Hanoi, but apparently I got the mild version of it. Still, I never got by with fewer than 2 showers (of course, I was walking around outside most days). The traffic is an assault on the senses—a sight to see, incessant honking to hear, the proximity of the chaos to feel…I couldn’t actually smell the exhaust, but I can’t imagine the air was terribly clean. I saw several instances of families of four on one motorbike, and outrageous loads on others and also on bicycles. It’s a free-for-all, but it works. It’s not aggressive, in spite of the honking. It’s just assumed that there’s room for all and everyone is allowed into the flow. Just don’t make any sudden moves…

The conical hats we all associate with Vietnam are indeed everywhere, and especially atop the iconic women carrying two crazily full bamboo baskets from poles (which most western men can’t lift). There are plenty of other fabulous smells, as food is always being freshly prepared, seemingly everywhere. The seafood in markets is still alive, barely dead meat is butchered on the spot, traditional foods are available streetside around most corners, especially in the Old Quarter.

I found myself comparing everything to what I knew in Korea, in terms of people, food, customs, behavior. It was weird to be amongst Asians and yet unable to use the vocab I’d picked up over the last months. Back to square one on language! The Vietnamese don’t push or spit the way Koreans do, and they aren’t afraid to use the English they know, no matter how little that may be. Koreans serve rice with most meals, and always finish it, as it is a reminder of what was the only food available in times of hardship. Vietnamese serve rice at the end of a meal, because a host wants his guests to fill up on the more expensive foods; if you have to ask for more rice, it means you haven’t been fed enough of the good stuff.

Wednesday I hit the road early, hoping to join a tour that day (turns out they couldn’t take me until the next day, not b/c there wasn’t room but b/c they had to report their numbers the day before), but instead made the reservation for the next day and went to bring my stuff back to the apartment…except that I shopped on the way home—it’s really impossible not to be drawn in by all the stuff—so it took me until lunchtime. All well and good, though, as I’d planned to make it my shopping day if I didn’t get on the tour. I haggled well and got some fun stuff for cheap-o-rama, dropped it off, made a tentative evening plan w/Sandra, and went out to new market territory.

S and B directed me to the nearby Cho Hang Da, where the vibe was completely different from most of the stores in the Old Quarter. It was a 3-story open building, with all kinds of stuff (mostly ceramics, food and clothes) crammed in. The (mostly) women seemed more in need of doing business and were more touchy, which somehow was not bothersome (that would usually drive me away). I got lots of “first customer” pleas (the first customer brings good luck), which I could actually believe, despite the hour, given the traffic (zero tourists, and the locals already have or can’t afford ceramics/bamboo/etc.). I could have been getting suckered, but I’m pretty wary in that department and it didn’t feel like it. And if they’re just that good at sales, well, hats off to ‘em! I paced myself and bought a little bit from a bunch of the ceramics stalls (hey, they had swishy-fishy stuff…), and looked around upstairs at the clothes and tons of material for sale. I let a young woman talk me into her making a silk shirt for me, figuring that $11 bucks was a small risk for a possibly nice piece of clothing and a probably good cultural experience, and agreed that I’d return on Sunday to pick it up and complete the payment.

En route to Cho Dong Xuan, another market, I sampled some fun street foods and crossed as many streets as possible, ‘cuz it just gets fun once you get the hang of it. I learned to deflect the “Hellooooo! Wooohooo! Motorbike? Motorbike? MOTORBIKE?” hollers of the zillions of motorbike taxis that can spot a single tourist from miles away, through buildings and around corners. The salespeople also see ya coming and start their calls of “Madame! Madame! Madame!” (an interesting remnant of French colonialism) as soon as you’re within earshot. Accumulated more there, then wandered my way through other temples and pagodas and St. Joseph’s cathedral before getting back to the apartment.

It turned out that there were unclaimed tickets that S and B had via an embassy friend to a concert, and Sandra had to work, so Ben and I hopped on their scooter (eeek! But fun! And I didn’t yell! Okay, I giggled a lot…) and went to a Bia Hoi joint (cheap beer, food on little plastic stools) with a friend before the show—the Jessie Dayton band, from Texas. Pretty odd to be hearing country blues in Vietnam…and TV cameras were everywhere and getting their fill of the audience—Ben assured me that the footage will be widely aired, as Vietnamese TV is limited…so I’ve now been on both Korean and Vietnamese television. Hah! Good show, though, and fun to do a non-touristy night on the town. Sat around, tore S from her work and shot the poop over a few beers.

Thursday, got up early with my packed bag and crossed town to meet my group for a 3-day, 2-night tour of Halong Bay, east of Hanoi. We were a merry band of ten, plus our tour guide, Khang, beginning the trip with a 2 ½-hour bus ride to Halong City. The three Canadian Blacklaws: mother Carol (teacher), pop Rick (photographer, et. al.) and 15-yr-old (going on 45) Caitlin (they pull their kids out of school once for a 6-month travel/home school experience—how great is that?), their Aunt Bobbie Beal (a Texan going strong and lovely at 70, who sometimes reminded me a little of my Aunt Helen), mom-and-daughter team Karen and Rachel Thurston (American Middle-Eastern-dance teacher and photographer/writer/singer in Arizona/Santa Barbara; Rachel is my age), hilarious Belgian Ludovic (hmmm, don’t have his last name…he’s between University and the job that starts next month), two Germans who were very nice but mostly kept to themselves, as they live far apart and have little time together, and me. We all could not have gotten along better, which made for a fantastic trip.

We made one “happy stop” en route, which was a store/snack spot with lots of stuff for sale made (supposedly) by children. Pricey and contrived, but it was good to pee… Once at the harbor, we stocked up on water, snacks and beer while they processed our passport info, then boarded our boat, Cahn Buom. On our way out of the harbor, we were served a scrummy lunch of fish, pork and veggies, spring rolls and fruit. Pleasantly full, we hit the deck to witness the stunning limestone karsts jutting from the water for which Halong Bay is famous. And more and more of them…they go on and on, as in over 3000 in about 1500 sq km (a World Heritage site, and with good reason). Lots of tour boats are out, too, but they’re all pretty nifty wooden crafts that add to the scenery. “Ha long” means “where the dragon descends into the sea”; legend has it that a dragon that lived in the mountains ran to the sea and its flailing tail carved everything up.

We passed one karst with a cool house on top—Titov island, named after a Russian pilot that landed there with Ho Chi Minh—en route to Hang Sung Sot, a three-chambered cave of stalactites and stalagmites created by water eroding the limestone. These caves are lit up for the tourists but otherwise are uncluttered and very impressive. There are several images to be found in the formations, and Khang pointed some out. We felt like we were on set for “Lord of the Rings” and did some fun Golem impressions.

Post-cave, we motored away before anchoring for some pre-dinner swimming. Vietnamese women in boats laden with western snackfoods and drinks follow the tour boats from the caves and linger to pester the passengers when anchored—even swimming! We’d been told to say “no,” otherwise they’d NEVER leave us alone (but the Oreos were tempting…). After a refreshing dip and shower, I saw an ENORMOUS jellyfish—about 2 feet in diameter! Supposedly it hurts like hell when they sting, but won’t kill you. Yeah, so any swimming thereafter was preceded by a round-the-boat scout and paying good and close attention to what was ahead of us. Yeeesh.

Dinner was again great: chicken soup, fries (!), crabs (I passed), sprouts, chicken fingers around a hollowed-out pineapple with a candle inside, corn, fish, and watermelon. Not too shabby. We sat in the lounge chairs on deck and shared stories of travels, careers, family, arts, languages, and random stories. An excellent team of travelers!

I slept like a rock in my cabin—two twin beds, nightstand, head w/shower. There were 8 guest cabins total on the main deck; we used 6. The dining room and deck chairs were on the upper deck. I had good intentions of getting up to see the sunrise, but sleepiness won out.

We awoke to the sight of the karsts at low tide, when the effects of erosion at the waterline are visible: from the high-tide mark down, they slant inward at about a 30-degree angle, and caves of different sizes (and the beginnings of what will someday be caves) can be seen. Wow!

We feasted on a breakfast of fruits, bread, cheese, jam and coffee, then transferred to another boat with kayaks. After a brief lesson from Khang, we boarded our two-man kayaks (I went with Ludovic, and we had a great time alternating between unadulterated awe of our surroundings and being in the middle of it all, silliness, and bone-dry witticisms. Perfect!).

We paddled around the karsts, into nooks and crannies, over fingery red coral dancing in the tide, under arches and into lagoons (where we demonstrated our skills with various animal calls amidst the echoey limestone, and I shocked myself by remembering all the lyrics to the “Gilligan’s Island” theme song).

Khang brought us to a fish farm, which is basically a hut on a raft with a bunch of sectioned-off netted areas, divided by walkways of two-by-fours. Dogs patrol for thieves. He knew the guys (hopefully has a deal with them that involves their getting paid), and we were allowed to walk around and see some of the HUGE grouper and smaller snapper ‘tanks.’ So unlike western tourism: no railings, no protective anything. You fall in (no one did), you pull yourself out. Same in Korea, though.

We reboarded the kayak boat for lunch: spring rolls, tuna with ginger, fries, greens, grilled tofu. We hung out for a while to digest and chat, then swam to a nearby beach where we investigated the shell-rock-coral scene. Unfortunately, the shoes I’d just bought and brought with me had broken, so I sort of dragged one shoe around to kindof keep it under my foot, which didn’t make for great walking. I spotted a piece of china in the sand, and it turned out to be a whole, unchipped, handpainted plate, which the tour guide agreed that it would be appropriate for me to keep (alas, it was accidentally thrown away by the crew—I was heartbroken!).

Our next stop was “Monkey Beach,” and Bobbie lent me her extra sandals for the trip (my vacation of shoe-borrowing!), which was good because we had a little climb atop spiky rocks. It was really touristy, and the whole monkey aspect was depressing: they live there, but are lured out with apples and other snacks for the tourists’ entertainment. I think we only went there because we couldn’t kayak into another cave due to the tides not being in our favor.

We boated off to another area for kayaking, and paddled through a huge fishing village (1,000+ people). This was truly the highlight of the trip for me. It was absolutely mind-blowing to see witness a lifestyle and community that are so drastically different in so many ways from anything I’d ever even known about, let alone experienced. Each farm had the layout of two-by-fours, some more expansive than others, as well as its own dogs (all healthy-looking, and probably lucky pooches in Vietnam, as they perform a function and are worth keeping alive). The women were all in traditional dress, with the conical hats and covered faces. Huge rowboats, propelled by a standing oarsman who pushes the oars to move forward, passed through the “streets,” and small motorboats bring kids to school (probably only through 3rd or 4th grade) on a nearby island.

The houses, rafts, and boats were all shades of blue, green and red, to complement the landscape, and the planks were natural, weathered wood. Being in the kayak, so close to the water and just below their homes, essentially passing by their front doors, was an indescribable experience. We felt as if we were invading and yet they were so clearly used to tourists, who probably come through several times a day, every day. We wondered if they still appreciate the stunning beauty, and what they have--or, more likely, haven’t--seen beyond that…probably not even Hanoi. We’re not sure what they may have seen on TV from Cat Ba or Halong City. Whew. Have a little perspective. I was so glad not to have seen photos of this community before seeing it live, because it was all the more impressive.

We kayaked to Cat Ba Island and unloaded our gear from our boat that had followed us. We were shuttled to our hotel (very nice, with gorgeous views—probably majorly luxurious by Vietnamese standards) and had two hours to relax before dinner. I settled in, stretched, and went for a walk along the main (SO touristy) drag, past all the identical souvenir stands, before dinner.

We gathered on the terrace of our hotel restaurant for another big meal of soup, prawns, greens, squid (tender and non-fishy, like none I’ve ever had!), fruit and beers. Great conversations, including a lesson on how exactly to pronounce our guide’s name…apparently we’d been calling him “cave” and “whore” instead of what his name really means: “prosperity.” Silly Vietnamese pronunciations… So we all formed new aspirations of finding prosperity in a cave with a whore… Several of us went back to wander the streets for a while before bed. I was determined to get up early and run before our 8am checkout time…

…and I did! Whew, talk about humid! I ran around for an hour and at least saw some of the island beyond the tourist-trap areas, but was sad that we didn’t have a day there to hike in the national park. Sigh. I got back to the hotel, dripping wet and bright red, to many of the staff’s great consternation. Showered (twice, as the first one didn’t take…) and brought all my stuff to breakfast (‘western’) so I could check out right afterward.

We were shuttled to back to the port, but our boat wasn’t there; something was wrong with the engine…so another one was summoned and arrived within the half hour. We set out again amongst the karsts, on the sunniest day we’d had (the others had been a little overcast/hazy, but still nice), and anchored for a last swim before lunch. The water looked much more tropically aquamarine in the sunshine, and we enjoyed our final dip of the trip, scoring each other’s dives and leaps in.

Arriving back at Halong City, we took a quick ride to a nearby restaurant, complete with live traditional music on cool traditional instruments. Another feast. Ooof! We rolled back into the van and hit the road, savoring the last of our time together. We made one quick stop to pee and buy snacks (?!) before returning to the Handspan office, where we sadly bid each other farewell and safe travels.

I bought a few souvenirs on the way back to the apartment, where Ben and Sandra and two friends (Julie and John) were having a glass of wine and awaiting my return for dinner. I showered (4th of the day) and we hopped in a cab and went to Highway 4, a hip spot with cool food (catfish rolls!)…and of course LOTS of food. Pacing of dining in Vietnam is an artform that I did not master on this trip.

We returned to the apartment building for a party that was being hosted by a newly-arrived Embassy employee and I had fascinating conversations with expats of mostly the diplomatic/military variety, all of whom had really interesting backgrounds. People who live in foreign countries are a different breed! I like them! Several of them had seen EV on TV, which was hilarious. We stayed there quite late, drank a lot, went back to the apartment, hung out and drank more… oy!

Sunday morning, I got up and showered, thinking that the bike ride Ben and I had planned was a little cross-towner. Hah! We set out on their mountain bikes for the northern end of Hanoi, and I managed to not scream and to successfully merge into and out of traffic, with Ben’s help (and not everyone emerges unscathed from adventures with Ben). As with crossing the street, you just have to keep a steady course and be part of the flow. The speed is slow—maybe 15mph max—in the city, so on a bike you’re moving at the same speed as everyone else. They’ve raised the art of the merge to a new level. It’s amazing to experience it all, and that the ‘system’ generally works. The most difficult thing was learning that the space to my right was NOT available as a buffer zone that I could float into, as I’m used to—there’s passing on all sides at all times. I learned that good and fast. It’s not aggressive, though, i.e. no cutting people off or road rage. Everyone is perfectly unperturbed by the vehicular crowding and the mere inches of available space to either side at any given time. A small conquest…

We crossed part of a bridge that was closed to 4-wheeled vehicles, then descended a stairway onto an island of farmland. We followed a path to the far end, amidst small fields of corn, cucumbers, herbs and we-knew-not-what, past oxen and other beasts of burden and the various rickety contraptions they pulled or carried. We came back via the riverbed on the other side of the island, and Ben called to a boatman who was on the other side. He putted over and Ben negotiated a price for our return trip (probably about 30 cents each for the 100-yard journey). On the other side, we climbed the embankment and remounted for a tour of the flower market and specialty restaurant (dog meat) district, among other sights, before stopping at a trendy waterside restaurant for a lunch of drinks of fruity goodness and western-type sandwiches.

We braved the traffic again and got home, dirty, sweaty, but safe, showered up and set out for the rest of the day. I went to pick up the shirt I was having made (I also got my shoe fixed, plus a new pair of the same in a different color, plus both reinforced where they might not have been properly sewn, all for about $5) and to do some other shopping en (long and windy) route to the American Club, where Ben was playing in a volleyball tournament. It was nice to hang out and drink beer on a Sunday afternoon outside, watching westerners swat at a ball on a dirt court.

In the early evening, I left them and went to the water puppet show, which had been on my list of to-dos in Hanoi. It’s an ancient art form, possibly begun during times of flood, that was revived in the ‘60s, and there’s a theatre dedicated to and specifically designed for it. Wooden puppets are manipulated with bamboo poles under water by puppeteers (who go through years of training) in waist-deep water. The show was fun, playful, beautiful and magical. The music, both instrumental and vocal, was a highlight. The space wasn’t very well designed, alas, as everything takes place at the level of the stage ‘floor,’ and the audience was barely raked. It especially sucks when a BAD tourist (Indian, in this case) decides to record the performance by holding his camera up in the sightline of anyone behind him. Duh.

Post-show, I bought a puppet at a store next door, then took a cyclo ride (had to do it once—you ride in a seat in front of the pedalpusher) home with a chatty ‘driver.’ I showered again and had dinner with B&S and many friends at an art gallery/restaurant, then went to bed after starting to figure out how to pack up all my loot.

Monday I got up early for a day tour to the Perfume Pagoda. It began annoyingly, with the van picking me up alone first at 7:30 outside the closed agency, with no one or anything to assure me that I was in the right place (the van was late), then stopping around the city for an hour (right past the apartment) before actually leaving central Hanoi. A LOUD group of three guys from Holland proved to be badly-behaved tourists and a hassle, wanting to stop back at their hotel to arrange for visas, and yammering loudly in Dutch for the entire 2-hour trip to My Duc. I strategized to not be the fourth in their boat for the one-hour trip (we were in a shallow, flat-bottomed rowboat, helmed by a small woman in a floral-print shirt pushing the oars), and had a good conversation with James and Jodi, a Brit and Canadian traveling before moving from London to Vancouver.

The ride was gorgeous and serene, with lush green landscapes and Vietnamese going about fishing chores in various craft. We landed at Huong Tich Mountain (Mountain of Fragrant Traces), where we were accosted by vendors. We were given the option of riding a newly-installed cable car or hiking to the top, and of course I chose the latter. James and Jodi rode, as they’d been hiking all week, so I hiked by myself, which was exactly what I wanted to do, anyway. I resisted the urge to beat the Dutch guys to the top, let them go ahead, and took my time taking photos and enjoying the scenery.

The path was 2.5k up on stone (I was glad it only sprinkled, as it would have been extremely slippery in full-on rain), and while it was humid, it was a bit overcast and not nearly as hot as it could have been. We were also lucky in that it was a Monday and we had the place pretty much to ourselves, which apparently is the opposite of the norm. At least half of the souvenir stalls along the way were closed (and there were MANY), no begging kids followed me, I saw few other people and had a generally quiet and pleasant hike. When I got to the main grotto/shrine/cave (down many steps from mountain top), I was the only one there, and I had 15 or 20 minutes alone to enjoy the misty magicality, rock formations and shrines.

I took the cable car down for the view, and secondarily because the return trip, down lots of steep and uneven steps, would have been less fun than the trip up. The cars weren’t running when I got to the entrance, as there was no one to ride it. They started it up just for me, and one of the operators hopped on to practice his English with the white girl—his friends at the bottom were very congratulatory.

I joined my tour group for a big (surprise) lunch of tofu, fish (too bony), fried sweet potatoes, spring rolls, pork and veggies, greens and rice. Then we all went to the nearby Huong Tich Pagoda, which was a bunch of shrines and statues. We didn’t have nearly as long there as we’d have liked, as there were many things to see, read, and photograph, but we were herded back to the docks for the return trip.

So, while the hike was good and the shrines were interesting, the tour was hugely unimpressive, especially after the Handspan trip. The guide was hung over, didn’t speak much English, didn’t go to the top with us to talk about the main shrine (and told us what little he knew about it afterwards, at lunch, when we couldn’t apply what he was telling us to what we were looking at), and was generally uninspired. Oh well.

We got home w/o ado, and I packed up my stuff as best as I could before having dinner with S&B and a friend of hers who was visiting on business from…Malaysia?...at an upscale French restaurant. I had to be very sneaky to pay the bill, as I’d not been allowed to open my wallet for most of the trip. But I got my way!

I finished cramming all my stuff into bags (good thing I’d bought one!), said goodbye and took the cab that was waiting for me to the airport for an uneventful flight home from 11:30 pm Vietnam time until 5-something am Korea time, losing 2 hours on the way. I was tired! But what a great trip (if too short…there was much I would have liked to add to the itinerary), and especially to have time with B&S individually and all together and to meet their friends and get a little glimpse of what their life there is like. It’s so cool that they speak the language fluently and fun to feel in the know about non-touristy things and perspectives. And their next post, in Beijing, sounds really interesting and perfect for Ben.

It was a strange relief to emerge to a more (if barely so) familiar language, and to speak enough of it to do what I needed to, ward off the taxi drivers, and appear as if I knew my way around the systems. And the air was cool and dry! On the down side, I was back to the land of pushing and hawking up phlegm…and unpredictable buses. I had planned to spend most of the day at a spa (where we’d gone on our retreat), instead of heading back to EV immediately. Unfortunately, the bus I took that usually goes past it, took an alternate route, and I lost about two hours in getting there. But get there I did, and enjoyed sleeping in different rooms, fruity drinks, a workout, hot tubs, cold tubs, saunas and steamrooms and general lolling about (which I’d never do unless I was that exhausted) before returning to EV. And it was weird to be back…home, but not quite, and I wasn’t all that happy to be back (except for the great people, several of whom I saw before I got to my room). But I’d had a great trip and was refreshed, so I was hoping for the best. Hooray for travel!