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អរគុណ aw-koon is Khmer for thank you

Author: Beth

អរគុណ aw-koon is Khmer for thank you

April 16, 2017 by Beth 2 Comments

Hanoi is cold in January and February. 60° F.  Gray, windy and damp with 90% humidity.  Locals call it moldy season.   Down jackets are the chosen attire when outside.

This photo was a location reminder for the clock shop, since a friend was looking for a clock. This is how we find things and remember them.  Most signs list the address.  And see, down jackets!

After spending Tet holiday last year in the deserted city, this year for Tet we made use of our multiple-entry visas and went exploring in our neighboring country, Cambodia.  Which had daily temperatures between 85-90° F. and only 40% humidity.  Better.

Getting from Hanoi to Siem Reap is easy.  100 minutes flying time.  Upon arrival, getting a Cambodian visa was a pleasant experience and involved a short form, $30 US each, and 15 minutes of rubbing elbows with the efficient and jovial visa/passport stampers who were entertaining themselves by trying to guess our nationalities before returning the passports.  There was a lot of laughing.  No one was hurried or cranky.

I had found a locally owned inn away from the city center (which is akin to a giant frat party, aptly called Pub Street) and accepted their airport pickup offer.  Daughter #1 met us outside customs with our names on a piece of paper.  She said it’s the first time she’s ever done that, since she’s typically away at pharmacy school in Phnom Penh, but was home helping her family during her spring break.  She wasn’t sure what names to use on our sign. Their family name is first, the given name is last.  Was ours?  She shyly revealed the crossed-off attempts on the backside of the paper and we all laughed together.  A car drove up. The driver? Dad. Happily we got in and were swallowed up by this endearing family, as we drove through the red dusty landscapes of Siem Reap.  We met Daughter #2 when we arrived at the inn and they proceeded to help us, joke with us and steer us in all the right directions, while asking a million questions and answering ours.

People ask what Cambodia is like.  From a visitor’s standpoint, we were charmed.  Nearly everyone we met was friendly, curious and shy, full of questions and eager to interact.  We found this to be true in all the cities we visited and stops we made.

How does a country recover from genocide 40 years prior?  The Khmer Rouge mass murdered a quarter of the population, trying to create an agrarian utopia, free of money, family ties, religion, education, property and foreign influence.  The entire city of Phnom Penh, 2 million people, was forcibly evacuated, marched to labor camps, starved, tortured and/or murdered.  Ultimately, the entire middle class was killed.  There were no more teachers, doctors, monks, artists, or anyone affluent. The infrastructure was demolished and rebuilding takes time. Consequently, it remains one of the poorest countries in the world. Read First They Killed My Father by Luong Ung for a personal account.  A new movie of her book is also to be released early 2017 in the USA.

Add to that, how to deal with 5 million unexploded bombs and landmines?  Don’t walk where the cows don’t walk.  It is not a country for hiking.  Be wary if a bush is growing in a rice field. Farmers don’t plant bushes in rice fields, so it’s from a bombsite disturbance, and potentially other ordinances remain. Farmers create square ponds to fit the rice paddy layout, so if a pond is round, it was created from a dropped bomb; don’t go near it.  We saw these grim modern markers everywhere, while traveling in the southern portion of the country.

 

Tourism is a large part of the economy, and continues to grow.  To accommodate, Siem Reap has exploded in size. 5 million visitors a year come to see the UNESCO world-heritage temple complex.  And with good reason.  The (400+) temples are fascinating.  Beautiful, mystical and magical.  I’m sure they’re loaded with Khmer spirits;  the workers and those who lived within these complexes.  There are thousands of professional photos online of the temples, so we focused on the details, which, in the context of the number of temples, was phenomenal.

We traveled with our friend Douglas, here in the tuktuk enroute to our first day of temple visits.

The Angkor Wat complex is over 400 acres.

Some temples are left to crumble back into nature.

Stunning carvings everywhere, inside and out.

The drivers would sling up a hammock in the back of their tuktuks and wait for their riders.

 

Water in Siem Reap and Phnom Penh is treated with huge amounts of chlorine so it tastes awful.  Nearly everyone drinks filtered water.

 

After 4 days of temples and town, we left Siem Reap for Phnom Penh on a boat, which we later discovered was nicknamed The Silver Floating Coffin.  6 hours on the Tonle Sap River, joining the Mekong, then into the big city.  We rode on top most of the time.   No ladders.  Self-hoist to the top and hope you don’t tumble, especially when hitting a sand bar and lunging suddenly forward.

Family-filled fishing boats casting nets were all along the Tonle Sap.

 

 

One quick night in Phnom Penh.  Happy herb is a thing.  Smoothies, shakes, cakes, pizzas.  I tried to order an herb drink and with a headshake by the protective waitress, was told I wouldn’t like it.
 

 

During the 4 hour bus ride south to Sihanoukville, we went through many small towns.

 

Rest stops are being built on the highways to accommodate the surge of  travelers.  Fruit, pastries and crisps (pig skin) are common snacks.

 

We had one night in Sihanoukville, on the SW coast of Cambodia, on the Gulf of Thailand.  The beaches are crowded with small motels and people but the water and sunsets are glorious.

We departed on a 3 hour boat ride to a small island (in the distance) for a week of laziness.

Our Lazy Beach cabin for the week.  West side of Koh Rong Samloem.

 

Good drumming spot.  See how close the water is?   I spy 2 hammocks.

 

Hiked up for this beach view.  20 cabins are down there in the tree line, and one family-run cookhouse/bar/hangout building.

 

A 20 minute walk through the jungle to the east side, Saracen Bay.

 

Never enough sunsets.  What you can only see at night is the magical phosphorescence in the water.

 

We didn’t want to leave.  But we were lucky to land in Kampot for a few days on our way home.  Colorful, laid-back river town in SE Cambodia.

KAMA Kampot Art and Music Association.  The musical and artistic pulse of Kampot.  Coffee house extraordinaire.

 

Daily life and graffiti walls.

 

Smiles and questions.

 

It is hot.

 

The Preaek Tuek Chhu River runs through the city.

 

Now do you want to come visit?  We’re moving to Hoi An when we return in September, and we’ll have a guest room!

And maybe a gecko.

 

 

The Cambodian Genocide

Good blog with details about all the Angkor Wat temples

36 Hours in Siem Reap, NYT

The Cambodian Genocide

Trump wants repayment? OMG

Posted in: Cambodia, day trip, food, Kampot, pagodas and temples, Siem Reap, Sihanoukville Tagged: Angkor Wat, First They Killed My Father, graffiti, Koh Rong Samloem, Lazy Beach, Luong Ung, Panda Angkor Inn, Saracen Bay, tonle sap, tuk tuk

Not a bad mistake

February 26, 2017 by Beth 3 Comments

Doug and I have a meme.  It originated from a recording we love, found on a 1940 Smithsonian Folkways compilation, of a young jump-roper named Ora Dell Graham, singing  rhymes as she jumps.  If one of us does something wrong?  Maybe even a little stupid?  Accidental mistake?  I milked that sow.  Pullin’ the skiff.

I made a mistake the other night and milked that sow.

My tutoring job was done for the night and I was headed home on the #1 bus, a new bus to me.  I had an idea of the route but the Hanoi Bus website isn’t updated, so was missing actual validation.  My Vietnamese isn’t good enough to converse about such details with the ticket collector.  I can ask the questions, but I can’t completely understand the answers.  (All part of the adventure, yes?)  I wasn’t worried.  I knew the general vicinity to disembark so that my walk home would be reasonable, keeping in mind that it was after 10pm and it was dark.  Midnight curfew isn’t enforced anymore, but this part of Hanoi is certainly quiet at night.  I watched the penultimate stop come and go, feeling confidant that the next one was it.  The bus took an odd turn, but hey, the streets are a little convoluted and overlapping with ramps and overpasses at that spot.  I convinced myself we were making a loop in the twisty section and would double back and I’d get off at the next stop.  I’d seen other buses do just that.

The curve turned into an extended on-ramp to a long modern bridge that spans the Red River, east of Hanoi.  This is when the song turned on in my head.  I made a mistake.

At this point, still on the bus were one other rider, the ticket collector and the driver.  I tried to text Doug but my data was apparently out (I knew I should’ve topped off my sim card earlier but I relish living on the edge).  I called instead and got a sketchy connection, but did let him know I was taking the scenic route home and would be late…then got disconnected before I could provide any actual details.

I could’ve got off when the last rider disembarked but it was dark and I didn’t see anything on the other side of the street that looked promising. Then the ticket collector got off.  Oh boy. By default, I had decided to ride to the end, subliminally curious to see where I would end up, quietly hoping the bus would turn around and retrace its route back into the city. After riding for what definitely felt longer than it was, studiously noticing the turns as I stared outside in case I had to walk back, we left the mixed residential and commercial areas, then made an abrupt turn into a big, dark parking lot next to a big, dark industrial looking building.  The driver yelled something at me and swished open the door.  I de-bussed and I swear, he zoomed away particularly fast, although it probably was just regular departure speed.

At least it wasn’t raining.

I stood there in the dark thinking about how I love the unpredictable-ness of life, felt bad that I had been a little cavalier when I had called Doug because he was probably worrying and didn’t have any way to actually find me, and then laughing because in one hour’s time I was in a really different place than I thought I’d be.

I heard the motorcycles before I could see them.  Xe oms.  Motorcycle taxis.  Usually old dudes.  I’ve used them before, and it was never dull.  So…yay!  I wouldn’t have to walk home.   With xe om drivers, I knew it was important to get a good breath-whiff so that the ride can be declined if the driver is alcohol-infused.  I started a conversation with one guy, while other curious drivers drove up and joined in the conversation.  I said my address, he mumbled a price, I negotiated, he didn’t say yes, just ok, ok, ok which I’ve learned to mean let’s go and we’ll renegotiate later when we get to where you want to go.  He’s already on his bike, ready to go.  Nope. I’ve learned to be clear upfront about both the location and the money, resulting in a more direct exchange all around.  I’m feeling rushed.  I decide to slow it down.   I try to talk (all in Vietnamese) to the little crowd that’s formed.  They want to know how I ended up there.  How old was I?  Where from?  Why?  What do I do?  The usual questions that I’ve learned the answers to.  My phone doesn’t work but I do pull up an iBook map detail of Trúc Bạch (thanks, Carol, for showing me that iBook is useful).  Oh…ok, ok, ok.  Someone reviews with the driver exactly where that is, then helps me get him to agree on a fair price to get there.  Ah…ok, ok, ok.  It’s a long way back over the river on the big bridge, which at this time of night means no return customer for the driver.

Ok.  Fare is communicated, agreed upon, reassured by eye contact and smiles, all is well.  One more thing, my arm still doesn’t bend enough to put on my helmet and I need help.  I tell them about my accident (mostly in pantomime and a few key words) and then ask the driver to buckle my helmet.  This requires touching…even more than the usual joked-about full-body-hugging hoped for by some xe om drivers.  Xe om, after all, means motorbike hug.

I’m buckled, loaded, my backpack is adjusted, the other drivers wave and say goodbye like we’re all old friends.  Off we go.  It’s exhilarating, actually.  Except for the fact that I have no idea who this guy is and seriously, I’m totally 100% at his mercy.  My arms are holding tight around his wide waist, his pockets wadded up in my fists for something to hold on to.  No one else is around, the streets here are deserted and I am obviously unfamiliar with the area.  But…nah.  This is one reason why I love it here.  I feel safe.

We’re driving on streets that the bus definitely did not take.  He is chattering away in the wind and I’m sorry I can’t understand much of what his deep voice is saying.  We take a little off-road short cut (what?!) and suddenly, we’re on a bridge.  Not the modern 4-lane bridge I came over on.  This is old.  Vintage construct.  It smells wooden.  We slow way down.

  

I probably squeal with surprise and delight.  He grins.  The center of the bridge is train tracks with the side lanes used for motorbikes and shared with pedestrians.  No cars.   There are late-night workers who actually drop below the span when the trains speed by.  And it’s alive with people and movement.  It’s like a festival.  Couples are sitting on burlap-sack blankets, dangling their legs over the sides, groups of friends are laughing, talking, and eating grilled corn and drinking hot tea from the food carts.

This, I find out later, is the Long Biên Bridge.  It is believed that the bridge was designed by Gustave Eiffel, the man behind Eiffel Tower and Statue of Liberty during the French occupation, then built by the Vietnamese using local wood, lime and concrete in 1889-1902.  It was bombed many times in 1967 and 1972 during the American War, and always put back together.  It is a symbol of rebellion, strength and resilience.

The driver was obviously happy to have shared this bridge with me.  We got to the end of the span and we came out in a place I recognized.  I named it for him and he smiled, đúng.  Correct.  We reached the apartment in about 15 more minutes; Doug was sitting on the balcony, watching, and came down.  Hands were shook, I got out my dong to pay and tried to say keep the change.  But no way, he wouldn’t.  An agreement is an agreement and tipping is not part of the culture here.  The ride cost 3$.

Since that night, I’ve read a lot about the Long Biên Bridge.  Today Doug and I went during the day to see it again.  It is indeed falling apart.  I hope preservation is in its future.  There really is nothing like it.

 

There’s Doug, walking westward, way in the distance.

 

Here’s looking south at the other, modern bridge.  The land (called Middle Island) and water underneath this bridge has become the home of Hanoi’s destitute.  Makeshift homes and shelters are appearing as people get pushed out of the city as the economy burgeons.  There is also a thriving nude beach area for health conscious locals, who bicycle down to swim, relax, meditate and practice yoga.

 

One of the pig (or boar) farms under the bridge.  See the little one nestled between the 2 center sleepers?

 

I had hoped to get a shot when the train went by, but maybe it was better to miss that.  Just walking on the bridge was a little unnerving due to the constant vibrations, shaking and big gaps and cracks in the concrete pavers.

 

Discovering the bridge at night, the way I did, was the perfect introduction.  A little mistake that turned out not too bad after all.

 

(These videos are visible only if you view the post from the website, not from the emailed version.)

Doug on the Long Biên Bridge

Drone fly-over of Long Biên Bridge

Pullin’ the Skiff by Ora Dell Graham

Posted in: bridge, day trip, Hanoi, thoughts Tagged: bus, Eiffel, Long Biên Bridge, motorbike, pigs, Pullin' the Skiff, Red River, train, xe om

Solstice

December 22, 2016 by Beth 2 Comments

It’s here.  The shortest day of the year.    A few thoughts:

Living here with our ingrained western perspectives in a fairly unrestricted eastern country continues to challenge our ideals and beliefs.  That, combined with the disastrous political changes taking place in the US and around the world, plus understanding the pending climate disasters that will befall us sooner than we expect…gak.  We should be depressed.  Sometimes we are. But life goes on and the gratitude meter reads high.  Life really is the little things.  Here are some of our daily little things.

We have teeny weeny tiny ants that live with us.  They are unnoticeable until they move.  Sometimes they remind us of the scope and breadth of life on this planet.  Other times they remind us to not leave food out on the counter.

New noodle discovery  ON OUR BLOCK called Ngu Xa style.  Hot oil, batter, noodles and egg are involved.  We also stumbled upon banh tom (shrimp and sweet potato fritters) and fried swan (meaty white duck) with lemongrass.  3 blocks away!

Together we bought a cheap motorbike (Yamaha) then discovered it’s a money pit.  It is for sale.  We are now renting a Honda.

Beth continues teaching English to a class of 13 year old teens.  They are not accustomed to adults asking them about their feelings, so of course that’s how each class starts.  They like it and even the shy quiet ones are finding their voices.

There are still things we absolutely do not understand.  Like midnight fishing.  A small, mysterious group of men and women appear about 1am with boats, bins and a large net.  They pull in hundreds and hundreds of fish, toss back a few live ones, then cart them all away on motorbikes and evacuate the area at 5:30am, when the morning loudspeakers start playing music. Who are they?  What do they do with the fish?

Doug should be receiving an advanced degree for all the climate change research he’s been doing.

Beth’s primary transportation is một chiếc xe đạp.  A bicycle.  She’s recuperating after experiencing a Hanoian rite-of-passage.  An accident.  One evening, bike, body and a slow-moving swarm of motorbikes collided at a ginormous intersection.  It could’ve been a lot worse than it was.  The bruises are amazing.  (Direct hit to elbow and knee, bones intact, cartilage…not so much.)  She is looking forward to being able to touch her nose once again.  A human element to that story:  the swarm included a group of singers returning from rehearsal.  They helped clear the mess and stayed until help arrived.  And serenaded her with love songs filled with grandiose passion.

Buses work well and cost 7000 VND (30 cents) per trip. If your arm is in a sling, the bus attendant will yell at someone to move and make a seat available.

While walking around the city, sometimes it smells so bad that we can’t inhale.  The beautiful aroma of a bloom emerges.  The balance between the two is astounding.  And instantaneous.  Sometimes life here feels like that.  Contrasting and alive, changing in an instant.  Dynamic, scary and invigorating.

Mận.  Our newest fruit.  Called a plum here.  Called a water apple in other places.  Gorgeous red, looks almost like a red pepper.  Crisp, tart, sweet and crunchy.

We often get stared at.  Not because we’re white. Because we’re old, and together in public.  Yesterday we were informed by the banh mi shop owner that we were the cutest old couple he’s ever seen.  He sat down with us to explain that we give him hope.  He’s been married 10 years and thinks life is hard, so seeing happy old people warms his heart.  Then he dragged his mom out to meet us too.

These interactions warm our hearts, too.  The human connection is not trivial.  As for juggling between the eastern and western cultures?  Pick and choose from both.

Thanks for being our friends.  You matter to us.

Happy Solstice, with love.

 

Music sharing with another musician.  The smile says it all.

 

 

 

 

Posted in: day trip, food, Hanoi, thoughts, violin Tagged: bicycle accident, mận, solstice, water apple

Tailored

November 28, 2016 by Beth 4 Comments

After one week back in the city we wanted (needed!) some beach time.  This coincided with our friend’s existing plan to visit An Bang Beach and Hoi An.  Off we went together.  An hour-long flight got us from Hanoi to Da Nang City.  This sprawling city, 3rd largest in Vietnam, is situated on an expansive beach.  This is looking north.  See Lady Buddha in the distance?  At 220 feet tall, she’s the tallest buddha statue in Vietnam.

da-nang-city-north

Flying in to Da Nang was emotional.  I couldn’t NOT think about the American War (called the Vietnam War by the US).  This was the major air base for the US and the South Vietnamese air forces.  On average, there were more than 2500 air traffic operations every day during that war.  That’s something every 3 seconds.  This area (called China Beach, but only by the US) is where US troops were sent to relax.

Looking south.  Our destination, is 15 miles down the coast.  And yes, all that water is warm and swimmable.

Da Nang City beach

 

Before leaving Da Nang we met up with a friend at a fancy bar on top of a fancy hotel with a fancy infinity pool.

infinity pool A La Carte DaNang – Version 2

 

An Bang beach is a traditional fishing village that is on the brink of change.   Guest house and restaurant/cafe construction is booming as tourists (from inside and outside Vietnam) opt for beach vacations.  We stayed at a friend’s 4-room inn.  Quiet, close to the beach, and relaxing.

 

First, Doug needed something to swim in.

trouser swimming

 

The beach 2 blocks from our inn.  Yes, the water was heavenly.  Yes, that’s us out there .  And a local fishing boat.

an bang boat douglas beth

 

An Bang beach is 5 minutes away from a UNESCO world heritage site called Hoi An.  This beautiful port city is loaded with old buildings, canals, temples, and has become known for paper lanterns that light the walkways at night.  Tourists visit Hoi An in droves.  And then they shop.  10 years ago, there were 20 tailors in town who could make you anything.  Today, there are over 650.  It’s hard to keep track, because as soon as someone gets reviewed on Trip Advisor, another new business opens up next door using the same name.  Anyone who speaks a little English can open up a tailor front, so things change fast.  Did we know this before we went there?  No.  But that’s ok.  We gave ourselves a day of shopping and just dove in.

This is a typical tailor’s shop.  They will copy any clothing item you want, or create for you whatever you desire.

tailor shop hoi an

 

She took all the measurements, then he created 2 pairs of linen pants, using my favorite pants as a pattern. $20 each.

tailor

 

child seatThat was fun.  We sat down on a stair step to rest and observe things, like baby seats on motorbikes like this one.

Then, before we knew it, we were in the “tailor hustle”.  A friendly young woman struck up a conversation.  Soon, she locked arms with us, friendly chatter turned into telling us about her sister’s shop, then she was dragging us to “just look”.  Sure, why not.  After getting tugged through a maze of shops in a cavernous marketplace, we arrive at number 46.  The iPads come out, latest fashions were flipped through, measuring tapes waiting, with fabrics stacked all around.  You need? Come on!  A new shirt?  Pants?   Dress?  My eyes lingered on some photos of linen tops and boom, I was hooked and the 4 personable women standing around us knew it.  Sure, why not.  While I was being bombarded, Doug was, too.  Of course he needs a new shirt and how about some shorts, too?  We stopped for a moment to breath and talk about what was happening (we truly could just say thanks and leave) but we thought, why not?  It’s their livelihood and we really did need some clothes.

tailors

We made our choices, and picked the fabrics (linen!).  One person quickly drew the designs in a notebook while 2 others measured us and chanted out the numbers.  We were told to come back in 5 hours for a fitting.  Here’s my one (blurry) photo of the indoor tailor shops.

We returned, tried on the clothes, adjustments were made for fit, and we were sent away for a few more hours and the clothes were motorbiked back to the sewing center outside town.  At the end of the day, we had new shirts, shorts and a simple dress.  And an understanding that if we really want perfectly fitting clothes, we should spend a lot of time (3 fittings instead of 1), find someone of our own choosing, and avoid the “touts” and commission buying that we were tugged in to.  All in all, it was a good day, we practiced our Vietnamese and we helped the economy in Hoi An just a little.  And one of the shirts is my new favorite.

 

Hoi An is both peaceful and bustling.   Authentic wooden architecture from the 15th century, a structural and cultural mashup with Chinese, Japanese, French and Vietnamese influences.  Temples, pagodas, humble inns and now large, modern hotels are there, too.  A little bit of everything.

Hoi An canal

 

Baskets of pasta drying in the afternoon sun.

noodles

 

Fishing boats line the canal.

boats

 

Incense and alters are everywhere.

horses incense

 

Doug and Douglas along the canal.  Probably discussing politics.

Dougs

 

Temple courtyard looking out at the street and the wires, which we don’t even notice anymore.

temple wires

 

Back to An Bang Garden Inn, the hammock, fruit for breakfast, and best of all, wave-diving at the beach.

An Bang Garden

garden

breakfast fruit plate

an bang beach with chairs

 

Hoi An Tailoring insight

Posted in: Da Nang, day trip, food, Hoi An, Vietnam Tagged: An Bang Beach, An Bang Garden Homestay, fruit, tailor

…summertime and the livin’ is (was) easy…

October 13, 2016 by Beth 4 Comments

We are back in our lovely little apartment in Hanoi.

True Bach apartment

Autumn is racing in, dragging the temperatures down to 85-90 degrees F.  We’ve adjusted our days so that we rise early, return home by 1:00 pm, siesta (play music, study Vietnamese, obsess about climate change, try not to succumb to the US political mania), then back out after 6:00pm to scour the city for food and drink, soaking it all in as we go.

We want to share a little about our summer on Lopez Island.  This count-down is as close to an annual Christmas letter as we’ll ever get.

 

#5  Upon returning to the US, Beth visited Whistler Mountain in the Canadian Rockies for a week with Kathi.  This beautiful distraction was the ideal immersion back into western civilization.  Fresh air, blue skies and endless people-watching.  A remarkable contrast to Hanoi.

Whistler gondola

Whistler Rendezvous

Whistler Peak to Peak

 

#4  The future is bright in our single-wide because we

  • can now wash laundry  (dug a dry-well and carted up a billion rocks from the beach to fill it)
  • repaired the washing machine by taming the agitator dogs and motor coupling (thanks, youtube)
  • re-caulked, re-hinged, repaired, painted, planted and toiled
  • finally moved mini-moby (after 30+ years)

pull mini moby  passing  push it      mini moby

  • continued the repairs (thanks, Alex) after a march windstorm deposited a tree on Moby
  • now have free firewood (thanks, windstorm)

timberrr     tree

 

#3  We started building something.  It’s going to be a 16′ x 20′ shared studio.

Had gigantic stumps removed, hand-dug trenches for underground utility lines and holes for 12 pier blocks.  Materials arrived.  Hard to imagine this orderly load of lumber can become our shop.

img_6510              wood

 

Dug.  Swore.  Leveled.  Tamped.  Leveled.  Untamped.  Shoveled.  Leveled.

img_6554       img_6556 img_6570

 

Lured friends over to help when possible.  Labor day.  Heh heh.

floor   floor

 

Later there will be two windows in the east side and two windows in the west side.

img_6606

 

South facing front will also have two windows.  Scored two fire-proof dutch doors from a neighboring job site for free.

img_6619

 

It’s starting to look like a saloon.  Slanted shed roof.  Ideal for collecting water.

front rafters

 

Battened down for the winter, awaiting plywood sheathing and a new metal roof.

almost a shop

 

#2  Family and friends came to visit.

lopez-island-campfiretrio

grand

Doug Cary seestor-and-fam

We ate from the local bounty, and played music as often as possible.  Lopez has a lively music scene.

oyster dinner

come back crabby lady

img_6378     3 crabbies

 

#1  Annie, the reason we came back early.

She died August 8, the day before her 11th birthday.  She taught us a lot over the summer.  Slow down, take long walks, don’t hurry.  Do what you want.  Don’t do what you don’t want to do.  Listen to the birds.  Relax when the opportunity appears.  Play music.  Sing.  Stretch out on the couch.

annie couch

low tide annie

doug-annie

 

Thank you all so much for the visits and help over the summer.

thanks

Now think about a visit to Vietnam!

tile-and-door

Posted in: day trip, food, Hanoi, Lopez Island, music, Whistler Mountain Tagged: Annie, beach, campfire, cocktails, crab, crabby lady, firewood, foundation, oysters, skiing, trailer life, tree fall on trailer

Ethno – Tourism

April 13, 2016 by Beth 1 Comment

Ta Van

If you visit Vietnam, you will be told to visit SaPa. To see the endless natural beauty, to rejuvenate yourself via the fresh air, to hike through the local villages, experience the sounds and smells of this unique landscape, and to explore new cultures.  Of Vietnam’s 54 ethnic minority groups, there are 9 in this area alone.  This breath-taking mountainous area 380 km northwest of Hanoi is near the Chinese border, and can now be accessed by the newly completed toll-highway.  6 hours of driving.  1600 m (5250 ft) high.  The SaPa District has about 55,000 people;   over 50% Hmong, 25% Dao, and 10% Viet Kinh (lowland Vietnamese), the balance Tay, Giay, Thai, Muong, Hua and Xa Pho.

sapa from Dave's

Brochure sunrise photo (above) of the terraced rice fields.   Starting in May, there is only one rice crop planted per year due to the high elevation weather conditions.  As early as possible, seeds are sewn in the lowest beds, then when the weather is warmer and the upper beds have been prepared and flooded, the seedlings are transplanted.

 

Second brochure photo (below) taken in early summer, of a mother and daughter (Black Hmong) walking and working along the growing rice.  We’re told these fields are brilliant shades of yellow and green beginning in July, until the harvest which starts in September.  We are hoping to visit again the end of August.  Join us.

SaPa from muonghoa

 

The true original inhabitants are unknown, but left rock carvings thousands of years old.  Over time, land has been illegally taken, villages bombed, indigenous peoples forced out, and repeatedly resettled by invaders. From the 1920s-1950s the French built villas and used the area as a hill-station, which is a resort area in the mountains created specifically to escape the seasonal lowland heat.  After they were ousted, many ethnic minority tribes returned from China, Laos and Thailand, using SaPa as a meeting and market location.   Sa means sand, pa means village so SaPa loosely translates as the place to trade goods and services.  Agricultural collectives were offered in the 1970s-1980s by the government.   After that, collectives were scaled back, perennial crops were encouraged and land rights were doled out.  In 1993 the first foreign tourists (since the French overthrow) were allowed up there.

Sapa

 

In February, we had the chance to hitch a ride up with an agency car that was going to SaPa to fetch clients, and we wanted to get out of dodge.  The landscape became rural as soon as we left Hanoi.  It was misty and overcast, strikingly, like the Pacific NW.  Except for the rice fields, the water buffalo and the palm trees.  These low-land rice fields were recently flooded and readied for seedling transplants, the first of 3 annual rotations.  Here’s the scene from the car outside of Hanoi. When we came back through here the following week, all the fields had been planted.

north of Hanoi

 

The final 60 kms from Lao Cai to SaPa is narrow, twisty and congested.  Crazy commute to school.

Lao Cai to SaPa

 

SaPa bustles.  Hotels, restaurants, schools, banks, bakeries, North Face outfitters, massagers, trekking companies, hardware stores, auto shops.   You name it.  The trick is to try and find what’s locally owned.  Responsible tourism can be hard work but is essential.

Sa Pa Town

 

Our morning phổ restaurant in SaPa.

SaPa pho house

 

Local Red Dao women, our talking companions on the edge of SaPa.

Beth Doug S and S Red Dau – Version 2

 

Near Lai Chao.  See the 2 people walking up the terraced hill?

 

hill climb

 

Mama Lili, a trekking guide and homestay provider, with her phone number.  We are the same age.  We shared stories and entertained each other using pantomime, truncated English, and Hmong.  Ua tsaug (wa chow) means thank-you.

Mama Lili

 

The villages are all connected by hiking trails.  Passes are purchased before entering the villages.  The foot bridge in the center was built by a neighboring Dao family.  They charge 5,000 VND per person (US 25 cents) to use it.  When it’s warm enough, locals avoid the fee and wade across instead.

outside TaVan

 

Take the time to hire a local guide and directly support the local economy.  We were lucky to connect with Zu, the best guide ever (on the left).  She spent the day with us, made us lunch at her house, and answered (and asked) more questions than you can imagine.  She is Black Hmong, and lives in Seo Mi Ty, her husband’s village. While taking a break, we ran into her sister, who lives in a different village and was passing through.

Zu and Sister

 

This is Doug’s hiking helper, Mai.  We all had someone to help us navigate through the mud and over the steep terraces.

Doug and his helper

 

Family photo.  Jenny and Steve came to visit from Seattle!

family photo outside TaVan

 

Ubiquitous water buffalo.

water buffalo outside TaVan

 

We had lunch at Zu’s home.  Yes, that’s a sharp machete and a (skilled) 5-year-old.

machete and dishes

 

Corn grinder at Zu’s house.  She says they grind corn every day.

Version 2

 

Jenny gets a corn grinding lesson from Zu.

(This video is visible only if you view the post from the website, not from the emailed version.)

 

Here come the kids, running up the path and yelling something we never figured out.

here they come

 

Animals roam the villages.

pigs

 

The pig pack followed us for a while.

pigs

 

Surprise meeting on the road with friends we had met the previous day in town, 20 km away.  Ma is due in one month, and explained how her husband will help deliver the baby.  It was hard to say goodbye.

Mama on road

 

Ma’s village, down the hill and up the ridge.

Ma's village

 

Congestion at an intersection outside the village of Lai Chau.

bus scooters cars

 

Bamboo and ankles.

bamboo road Doug

 

Bottle section of a barn wall in Ta Van.

barn wall in Ta Van

 

The mountains outside SaPa were cloud-covered and hidden except for this brief moment.

mountain sighting

 

Making a note of the hotel in the foreground to check the prices.  EcoPalms Hotel.  $115 US/night.

Ối Giời Ơi !  Expensive.  Still trying to find out who owns it and where the money goes.

beth hotel notes

 

I would love to live and work here.  These state schools are all painted yellow.  Why?

school near Bac Ha

 

I spy water buffalo grazing, slash pile burning, brush clearing by hand, and a horse.

I spy

 

Watching, as we walked by a Flower Hmong village, outside Bac Ha.

watching

 

30 minute walk north of Bac Ha.

Bac Ha

 

Buy from me!  Seriously, we could’ve talked for hours with these 2 young women.

SaPa

 

Her mother told us about this sweet baby’s ear piercing ceremony at birth.

Kim's baby

 

Mooo.

cows

 

Something is in the air.

cat

SaPa and the surrounding area is magical.  And complicated.  Responsible tourism is hard to recognize here.  It’s a free-for-all.  The new road will bring even more people, expanding the impact with no end in sight.  Of course there is a move towards reviewing current social and economic development plans but there are so many conflicting factors and obstacles.  New construction is booming and there’s even a cable-car to the top of Fansipan Mt, above SaPa, that just opened in February.  It’s imperative that growth occurs in conjunction and cooperation with the local people, so that their rights, customs and privacy can be maintained and not exploited and their livelihood be preserved.  SaPa O’Chao is a social enterprise organization that I hope to spend some time with in the future, and I’m looking for others.  We’ll keep you posted.

 

Hunger makes a great sauce, quotes Doug, religiously.

hot steam   Doug steam

 

Sa Pa The Beauty That Has Turned Beast

Here’s a blog with descriptions and photos of the different tribes in the North part of Vietnam.

Posted in: bridge, day trip, food, SaPa, thoughts, Vietnam Tagged: cat, corn grinder, cow, Hmong, Mama Lili, phở, pigs, Red Dao, rice fields, Ta Van, water buffalo, Zu

Annie, an original Red Dog

February 26, 2016 by Beth 9 Comments

Annie 1

Life is full of ups and downs.  We are experiencing one of those “downs”.  Our sweet dog Annie has been diagnosed with osteosarcoma, a nasty, aggressive and painful bone cancer.  It’s in her front wrist.  She is responding well to her pain regime, so she continues to be her charming, energetic self.

We will be back in Seattle on March 20, staying at various  friends’ homes, with Annie.  We’re looking forward to lots of couch time, treats, and an abundance of dog love.  She and we will welcome visitors.

We’re so grateful she is in good hands right now and we look forward to seeing her soon.  We couldn’t do this alone.

 

IMG_3706

 

Annie rock star

 

Posted in: thoughts Tagged: Annie, red dog

It’s not just George Harrison’s birthday today

February 26, 2016 by Beth 2 Comments

The birthday boy and our good friend Douglas.  And dessert.

double doug dessert

 

Some birthday food from the day.  Fried rice, sautéed pumpkin and pork belly.

fried rice

 

Bánh cam  (sesame balls with sweetened mung bean balls inside)

sesame balls banh cam

 

 

lights

 

Posted in: food, Hanoi, Vietnam Tagged: birthday cake

xe ôm (translation: motorbike hug) OMG

February 24, 2016 by Beth 1 Comment

Hey, we got a motorbike.

We spent six weeks learning how to walk through the traffic and now we want to become part of it.  You ask what Hanoi traffic is like?

Here’s a video of the steady flow in an intersection in the Old Quarter on a typical evening.  Two perpendicular currents moving through each other without substantially stopping.

It took a while to absorb the rules, which are different from the law.  One way means one way unless you need to go the other way.  Stoplights mean stop unless there’s a break in traffic that your bike can get through.  Drive on the right side of the road unless you’re only going a few blocks and you have to cross over anyway.  Sound your horn to let them know where you are.  Don’t look back.  Concentrate what’s in front of you and don’t worry about what’s behind.  The traffic regulations are suggestions to be used or discarded as the situation develops and as you, the driver, need to shape it so that you can keep moving. There’s no screaming, no anger, no tantrums, and no loss of face.  Just a focused calm, constant beeping and an awareness of the flow:  pedestrians, children on bicycles, city sanitation workers who actually sweep the street gutters daily with their special hand-made brooms and toss the garbage into their rolling push-bins, vendors in conical rice hats with two baskets hung from a bamboo shoulder-yoke carrying anything from hot food to scrap metal, quiet electric bikes, the occasional ego-fortifying Ducati or Harley wide-ride, cars, taxis, minivans, city buses, huge touring buses, and utility vehicles.  And filling in the gaps is the eternal river of motor bikes.  U-turns that stop traffic on a major artery are okay.  If the road gets too crowded, traffic moves onto the sidewalk.  And, yes, it’s okay to take a phone call while driving.  The power of patience is remarkable.

It’s difficult for foreigners to get a valid license but the police don’t like to stop them anyway because their English is limited and they might lose face, so foreigners drive without a license. There’s a box on the rental form that says License and you write yes or no. You can answer either one but it doesn’t change the outcome. It does protect the leaser if necessary, proving that he didn’t break the law, you did.

We tried out three bikes before deciding what to rent; a Chinese Vespa knockoff, a new Honda scooter and a Yamaha automatic motorbike.

The fake Vespa model called Elizabeth, was definitely the cutest.  This is Doug not liking it.

elizabeth

 

This is Doug continuing not to like it.

not the bike

 

Here’s the winner.  A 2009 Yamaha Nouvo.  We rent it by the month so we can trade up.  The automatic transmission is definitely appreciated.

bike

 

Vietnamese kids grow up on motorbikes, the family station wagon of the country.  It’s not uncommon to see mom on the back, dad driving, one kid standing between dad and the handlebars and the baby sandwiched between dad and mom, as they weave through the traffic. Kids ride bicycles during rush hour, completely comfortable.   Not me;  the first time out on a run to buy gas, I was acutely focused in the moment by the terror.

This is Beth liking it and hoping the white knuckle grip will soon relax.

beth bike

 

Tucked into alleys and nooks are these bike piles.  This one would be fun to clean up.  Right?!

bike pile

 

And for the foodies.  Since landing in Vietnam we have tried outdoor street food, indoor street food, average restaurant food and above average restaurant fare.  Most of it was good, some really good and a few were great.  The kind of food that is centered around flavor, where every bite is fun.  Nearby, down a small unmarked alley is a restaurant called 1946.  It’s based on the conditions in Hanoi and the food available in 1946 when the world war was over and the war for Vietnamese independence was gathering steam.  Fried salted field crabs, banana flower and marinated beef salad, grilled spiced pork, sautéed garlic and morning glory, sour pork soup, beer, and corn water.  $17 US.  Expensive for an evening meal but worth the occasional splurge.

dinner 1946

 

 

Here’s a 2012 article from the NYTimes featuring the traffic in Hanoi.

Posted in: day trip, food, Hanoi, Vietnam Tagged: fake vespa, land crabs, motorbike

Happy Lunar New Year! Chúc mừng năm mới!

February 6, 2016 by Beth 2 Comments

Tonight is the eve of the Lunar New Year (Tet).  It is the biggest holiday here in Vietnam.  Consider it a combination of modern customs, ancient traditions, religion and superstition.  It’s been interesting and fun to see some of the traditions in action.  Here are a few that we saw over the past week.

tet

Some streets are dedicated to red and gold decorations.  It’s a little like that street in your neighborhood that goes all-out at christmas time.

Most homes put up either a blooming peach branch or a fruiting kumquat tree.  They’re called kumquats but they sure look like orange trees.

tet

I wonder if people rotate from year to year, similar to rotating between, say, noble fir, scots pine or douglas fir if putting up a christmas tree?

There are peach blossom stands everywhere.

tet peach blossoms

 

It’s also time for photos taken in the park.  There are many photographers offering their services.  These are from our nearby Hoan Kiem lake.

tet photo

 

tet photo

 

The kitchen god Tao must be celebrated.  To do this, 3 goldfish (representing the 3 legs of the kitchen, translated into 1 wife and 2 husbands) are released into water to swim the prayers to heaven.  We saw this continually the week leading up to Tet.  Yes, sometimes people just slowed down on their scooters and tossed the bag with the 3 fish into the lake.  But most stopped and ceremoniously let them out.  Then threw the bag into the lake.

tet fish

 

Lucky money and ornate paper artifacts are burned all during Tet to send good wishes to ancestors for many reasons.  Some to get out of hell faster, some to honor the newly deceased, all as a means of sending love and respect to the dead.  We saw fires all over the place as we walked about, including outside our kitchen window, every night.

tet fire

 

Altars are also cleaned up and replenished with new offerings.  This is the altar at our favorite neighborhood phở place.

tet

As I understand it, people believe that what they do on the dawn of Tet will determine their fate for the whole year, hence people always smile and behave as nicely as they can in the hope for a better year.  Not a bad practice, actually.  It was definitely a nice day for us.

tet sugar cane

This year Tet is celebrated from Feb. 6- 14.  Many shop owners decorate their doors before they leave.  She is putting up sugar cane on her shop.

Doug and I are planning on taking advantage of the reduction in traffic to practice driving a scooter before the crowds return.  Wish us luck!

http://www.vietlandia.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/IMG_4737.m4v

 

 

 

Posted in: day trip, general, Hanoi, Vietnam Tagged: goldfish, Hoan Kiem Lake, kitchen god Tao, kumquat, peach, Tet
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