I wrote all of these blogs while I was in Vietnam a few weeks ago but I held off on posting them partially because I was trying to keep a secret (and partially because I procrastinated). I was actually in Vietnam for a job interview and I have since been offered the job, accepted and now find myself on a plane moving to Vietnam!
The job is based in Hanoi working for a start-up development firm and my job is managing a bamboo subsector development project. Essentially the project’s goal is to reduce poverty by supporting the bamboo business in Vietnam from farmers all the way through to the end product manufacturers. For those of you that don’t know, bamboo is showing up all over the place as flooring, wall panels, decorative bamboo shoots, handicrafts including vases and bowls, and even fabric. I’m sure I’ll be writing more about my work over the coming months as I figure out exactly what I am doing.
I’m writing this on the plane as I head out for a month to do the annual planning for the project. I agreed to get out there quickly for this, but I will be back in DC from mid-September through mid-October to properly pack up my house, fix everything that needs fixing, find a renter, and of course have lots of au revoirs!
Notice it’s not goodbye – it looks like I will have at least a spare room or two in Vietnam so Chez Bronwyn will soon be open for guests and I hope there will be many!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
I Broke My Toe in Seoul
No really, this is not a bad country song title, I actually broke my toe in Seoul. My flight from Hanoi left at 12:40am on Friday morning – which was really the middle of Thursday night – and arrived in Seoul at 4am my time. So after two hours of sleep I had to face an 11 hour layover in Seoul.
I decided to try and shake off my sleepiness as much as possible and head out into the city rather than spending the day trying to sleep in the business lounge or window shopping at the couture stores in this fancy airport. The tours were well organized so I just went through customs, gave them my $40 and hopped on the bus with the seven other day tourists.
Unfortunately, it was South Korea’s independence day, which meant that half of the roads in the downtown area were closed for either events or demonstrations. Although we never saw a demonstrator, we saw enough riot police fully outfitted with shields and helmets to have stopped an army. I never did understand what they were protesting as all the guide could say in her broken English was that they had a different opinion.
After an extended trip around the city being turned around by detours, an alternate plan was developed and we headed off to the Namsangol Hanok village – a recreation of old houses built for tourists (or at least that is my impression). It was interesting to see the housing design and the beautiful gardens. It was amazing how the temperature dropped as soon as you stepped under the shade of the trees in the garden.
We then went to a Palace, which was very impressive, even if I don’t remember it’s name. It was amazing to look up from the courtyard surrounded by ancient buildings to see the towering skyscrapers of modern Seoul around us. It was here where I was attempting to step back into my shoes (which had to be removed to enter the palace) and I slipped and somehow my toe went one way and my foot the other. I am quite known for breaking toes, but it’s not my fault that they are freakishly long and delicate!
Fortunately, when I hobbled back into the airport I discovered that I had been upgraded to business class! Even better was that in spite of the turbulence I slept for at least 9 hours of the 13 hour flight – the best sleep I have ever had on plane. I guess I needed it!
I decided to try and shake off my sleepiness as much as possible and head out into the city rather than spending the day trying to sleep in the business lounge or window shopping at the couture stores in this fancy airport. The tours were well organized so I just went through customs, gave them my $40 and hopped on the bus with the seven other day tourists.
Unfortunately, it was South Korea’s independence day, which meant that half of the roads in the downtown area were closed for either events or demonstrations. Although we never saw a demonstrator, we saw enough riot police fully outfitted with shields and helmets to have stopped an army. I never did understand what they were protesting as all the guide could say in her broken English was that they had a different opinion.
After an extended trip around the city being turned around by detours, an alternate plan was developed and we headed off to the Namsangol Hanok village – a recreation of old houses built for tourists (or at least that is my impression). It was interesting to see the housing design and the beautiful gardens. It was amazing how the temperature dropped as soon as you stepped under the shade of the trees in the garden.
We then went to a Palace, which was very impressive, even if I don’t remember it’s name. It was amazing to look up from the courtyard surrounded by ancient buildings to see the towering skyscrapers of modern Seoul around us. It was here where I was attempting to step back into my shoes (which had to be removed to enter the palace) and I slipped and somehow my toe went one way and my foot the other. I am quite known for breaking toes, but it’s not my fault that they are freakishly long and delicate!
Fortunately, when I hobbled back into the airport I discovered that I had been upgraded to business class! Even better was that in spite of the turbulence I slept for at least 9 hours of the 13 hour flight – the best sleep I have ever had on plane. I guess I needed it!
Halong Bay
A Vietnamese friend of a friend who lives in DC recommended that if I had a few days to see something of the country, I should head for Halong Bay, a World Heritage Site of 3,000 rocky islands off the north coast of Vietnam. It was an excellent suggestion and I even managed to find an adventure tourist operator that offered kayaking. I signed up for a three day individual trip.
Unfortunately, my trip coincided with the arrival of the remnants of a tropical storm. My first view of the bay was to a chorus of violent retching. Fortunately the old trick of keeping my eyes glued to the horizon meant that I managed to stave off the green in spite of the putrid smell and nausea inducing sounds, to say nothing of the pitching waves crashing over the boat. But not even the harrowing experience of that boat ride could stop me from being completely awestruck by my first sight of the islands. Words cannot do justice to the bay, so I am posting some photos, and even those only capture a small part of the magnificence.
As I disembarked I realized that my bag, which had been on the floor between my feet, was completely soaked. I just hoped that it was from the ocean coming in through cracks in the windows rather than the alternative… The boat was not exactly waterproof and during a particularly bad bout of rolling waves I did find myself wondering how I would get out if the boat actually tipped. Needless to say it rained continuously for the three days I was there so I was wet for 72 hours. Fortunately it was hot enough that it didn’t matter too much and I was having too much fun to notice.
By 10:30 am we had arrived at camp, a collection of thatched sleeping huts, an open dining shelter and a kitchen (see photo). I spent the first day enjoying the absolute silence sitting in the dining room reading or writing and watching the rain blanket this heavenly scenery and of course kayaking. My guide and I went out for a few hours in the afternoon. He at first seemed to be the quiet serious type, but later I realized he was the quiet immature type. Disappointingly he knew very little of the flora and fauna, the way of life of the fishermen living on houseboats in the bay, and even less about kayaking. It just meant that I had lots of for enjoying the scenery in quiet.
The second day we were in kayaks for about eight hours of pure heaven. We actually saw monkeys twice (a rare sighting even once) and I saw a snake and lots of amazing jelly fish. It did make me more hesitant to go for a long swim like my first day!
By the third day my arms were really aching from the strenuous work out that they aren’t used to, but I wanted to make the most of it. So I got up at 5:30am (jet lag does have it’s benefits) and headed out by myself for three hours. It would be so easy to get lost in this maze of islands that all look the same so I just stuck to the coast of the island the camp is on. It was so great to be out there on my own. After breakfast my guide told me he had saved the best for last and took me out. As the tide was going out, we kayaked through a shallow cave for 200 meters or so. It was so shallow that we were crouched down in pitch black with only a weak flashlight to guide us. Finally we literally saw the light at the end of the tunnel and suddenly we were out in a tiny enclosed lake that could only be reached through the cave. The waters were untainted by the pollution in the rest of the bay and you could see the impact. From sitting up in the kayak I could count the different types and colors of corals and sea urchins. It was completely silent except for the sound of the birds and our paddles in the water. It was an amazing send off, but I’m sure that it will not be the last time that I visit Halong Bay. I’m considering brining a sea kayak with me if I move out here!
Unfortunately, my trip coincided with the arrival of the remnants of a tropical storm. My first view of the bay was to a chorus of violent retching. Fortunately the old trick of keeping my eyes glued to the horizon meant that I managed to stave off the green in spite of the putrid smell and nausea inducing sounds, to say nothing of the pitching waves crashing over the boat. But not even the harrowing experience of that boat ride could stop me from being completely awestruck by my first sight of the islands. Words cannot do justice to the bay, so I am posting some photos, and even those only capture a small part of the magnificence.
As I disembarked I realized that my bag, which had been on the floor between my feet, was completely soaked. I just hoped that it was from the ocean coming in through cracks in the windows rather than the alternative… The boat was not exactly waterproof and during a particularly bad bout of rolling waves I did find myself wondering how I would get out if the boat actually tipped. Needless to say it rained continuously for the three days I was there so I was wet for 72 hours. Fortunately it was hot enough that it didn’t matter too much and I was having too much fun to notice.
By 10:30 am we had arrived at camp, a collection of thatched sleeping huts, an open dining shelter and a kitchen (see photo). I spent the first day enjoying the absolute silence sitting in the dining room reading or writing and watching the rain blanket this heavenly scenery and of course kayaking. My guide and I went out for a few hours in the afternoon. He at first seemed to be the quiet serious type, but later I realized he was the quiet immature type. Disappointingly he knew very little of the flora and fauna, the way of life of the fishermen living on houseboats in the bay, and even less about kayaking. It just meant that I had lots of for enjoying the scenery in quiet.
The second day we were in kayaks for about eight hours of pure heaven. We actually saw monkeys twice (a rare sighting even once) and I saw a snake and lots of amazing jelly fish. It did make me more hesitant to go for a long swim like my first day!
By the third day my arms were really aching from the strenuous work out that they aren’t used to, but I wanted to make the most of it. So I got up at 5:30am (jet lag does have it’s benefits) and headed out by myself for three hours. It would be so easy to get lost in this maze of islands that all look the same so I just stuck to the coast of the island the camp is on. It was so great to be out there on my own. After breakfast my guide told me he had saved the best for last and took me out. As the tide was going out, we kayaked through a shallow cave for 200 meters or so. It was so shallow that we were crouched down in pitch black with only a weak flashlight to guide us. Finally we literally saw the light at the end of the tunnel and suddenly we were out in a tiny enclosed lake that could only be reached through the cave. The waters were untainted by the pollution in the rest of the bay and you could see the impact. From sitting up in the kayak I could count the different types and colors of corals and sea urchins. It was completely silent except for the sound of the birds and our paddles in the water. It was an amazing send off, but I’m sure that it will not be the last time that I visit Halong Bay. I’m considering brining a sea kayak with me if I move out here!
First Impressions
Friday afternoon I woke up from a three-hour nap (jet lag has been killing me, so I finally compromised on my no-napping rule). I decided it was high-time to get out and see something of the city.
I took a taxi into the old quarter and meandered around some shops before heading towards the main market – which I knew would be closed by the time I arrived. As I walked along the streets dodging mopeds and trying to take in everything around me, I was very aware of one thing: no one was watching. Even though I was more often than not the only foreigner in sight, no one was staring. Even more surprising, no one was calling out to me to try and draw me into the shops or sell me something or beg for something. Even though there was what seemed to be poverty around me, no one was asking for anything. I was just left to my own devices – a very pleasant change from the usual harassment of travel in a development country.
As I adjusted to the lack of these distractions, I felt myself relaxing. I looked around at the interesting mixture of architecture, a jumble of old French colonial and Asian style. Most of the buildings in the Old quarter are very narrow and four stories tall. It turns out that at some point taxation was based on the width of the house and so houses are very narrow and long and tall. Just like my house in DC and for the very same reason!
I did find the mopeds buzzing everywhere a little disconcerting at first, but the longer I am here, the more I realize they actually good drivers and somehow manage to avoid crashing into pedestrians. Crossing the street is a bit harrowing at first as there is no break in the traffic so you just have to start walking and hope (expect) that the mopeds will avoid you.
Before heading back to the hotel, I decided to go for a massage. I went to a place recommended by the lonely planet, but now that I think about it, the Lonely Planet might not be the best source for recommending what are normally considered luxury items.. Are backpackers really experts on the finer things in life? (Yes, I guess I have changed since my days as a backpacker). Unfortunately in Vietnam ‘massage parlor’ is often code for other entertainments and while they do offer massage, for men towards the end of the experience they will place their hand in a key location and ask, “Happy ending?” My experience was not that uncomfortable but it certainly was odd. The girl sat on me – as in her bum was resting on the back of my thighs! I couldn’t figure out if this was normal because Vietnamese are so small and can’t reach the massage table or whether it was meant to be as suggestive as it came across to me. Either way I was definitely creeped out! I’m sure there are better options out there.
I took a taxi into the old quarter and meandered around some shops before heading towards the main market – which I knew would be closed by the time I arrived. As I walked along the streets dodging mopeds and trying to take in everything around me, I was very aware of one thing: no one was watching. Even though I was more often than not the only foreigner in sight, no one was staring. Even more surprising, no one was calling out to me to try and draw me into the shops or sell me something or beg for something. Even though there was what seemed to be poverty around me, no one was asking for anything. I was just left to my own devices – a very pleasant change from the usual harassment of travel in a development country.
As I adjusted to the lack of these distractions, I felt myself relaxing. I looked around at the interesting mixture of architecture, a jumble of old French colonial and Asian style. Most of the buildings in the Old quarter are very narrow and four stories tall. It turns out that at some point taxation was based on the width of the house and so houses are very narrow and long and tall. Just like my house in DC and for the very same reason!
I did find the mopeds buzzing everywhere a little disconcerting at first, but the longer I am here, the more I realize they actually good drivers and somehow manage to avoid crashing into pedestrians. Crossing the street is a bit harrowing at first as there is no break in the traffic so you just have to start walking and hope (expect) that the mopeds will avoid you.
Before heading back to the hotel, I decided to go for a massage. I went to a place recommended by the lonely planet, but now that I think about it, the Lonely Planet might not be the best source for recommending what are normally considered luxury items.. Are backpackers really experts on the finer things in life? (Yes, I guess I have changed since my days as a backpacker). Unfortunately in Vietnam ‘massage parlor’ is often code for other entertainments and while they do offer massage, for men towards the end of the experience they will place their hand in a key location and ask, “Happy ending?” My experience was not that uncomfortable but it certainly was odd. The girl sat on me – as in her bum was resting on the back of my thighs! I couldn’t figure out if this was normal because Vietnamese are so small and can’t reach the massage table or whether it was meant to be as suggestive as it came across to me. Either way I was definitely creeped out! I’m sure there are better options out there.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Second Attempt
I managed to get the letter from the Vietnamese Ministry of Interior in one day and a refund for my first ticket and bought a second one that actually cost less than the first. So on Tuesday I found myself heading back to Dulles. At least this time I am flying on a different airline.
Fourteen sleepless hours on the plane and I find myself in Seoul for a few hours. This is an amazing airport. I think I counted four different Coach stores. Not that I’m shopping. I have an 11 hour lay-over here on my way back so I may take advantage of the very organized tour packages designed for those in transit. Tours start at 1 hour for $20 – not a bad deal.
I am on my way to Vietnam for fun and for life. I am checking it out to see if it might be a place that I someday might want to live. You never know what opportunities life can throw at you when you least expect it.
Fourteen sleepless hours on the plane and I find myself in Seoul for a few hours. This is an amazing airport. I think I counted four different Coach stores. Not that I’m shopping. I have an 11 hour lay-over here on my way back so I may take advantage of the very organized tour packages designed for those in transit. Tours start at 1 hour for $20 – not a bad deal.
I am on my way to Vietnam for fun and for life. I am checking it out to see if it might be a place that I someday might want to live. You never know what opportunities life can throw at you when you least expect it.
False Start
On Sunday morning I packed my bags and jumped into a cab to head to the airport. I am going to Vietnam – or so I thought. Because I had to buy my ticket at the last minute, I ended up flying on my least favorite airline and having to check in at my least favorite airport. In fact, the only reason I don’t like United is because of their chaotic check-in system at Dulles. So I waited somewhat impatiently in the check-in line for 45 minutes while three people checked in the fifty or so people ahead of me. By the time I got to the front of the line, I was just ready to get on the plane – anywhere but in that line.
But I didn’t – get on the plane that is. “Where is your visa”, says the woman behind the counter. “I don’t need a visa”, I replied. She then informed in her power-asserting tone that I either needed a visa or a letter from the embassy saying there would be a visa for me upon arrival in Vietnam. I would say that sounds ridiculous, but the truth is that it is completely believable in the bureaucratic games of developing country governments. I asked to speak to the manager. Same answer. I even called my host in Vietnam and woke him up at 11pm. He still insisted that I do not need a visa. But the airline refused to allow me on the flight.
So I got in a cab and went home.
But I didn’t – get on the plane that is. “Where is your visa”, says the woman behind the counter. “I don’t need a visa”, I replied. She then informed in her power-asserting tone that I either needed a visa or a letter from the embassy saying there would be a visa for me upon arrival in Vietnam. I would say that sounds ridiculous, but the truth is that it is completely believable in the bureaucratic games of developing country governments. I asked to speak to the manager. Same answer. I even called my host in Vietnam and woke him up at 11pm. He still insisted that I do not need a visa. But the airline refused to allow me on the flight.
So I got in a cab and went home.
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