My Second Tour

I know that not less than a month ago i was babbling about My coming over at New Years.

Well she's having yet another issue getting her EU passport, and she has to go to Paris for a couple months this Spring before she can come over.

So now I'm polishing my spy cufflinks and airlifting back into Vietnam in less than 3 weeks. Tet starts the first week of February (hells yeah), and My's dad said that he'd kill their pig in my honor. I hope that doesn't mean i have to eat its balls or something.

I'll be updating this page while i'm there, so check back after January 17 if you're interested.

The Rain in Hue

Let there be no bones about it-
it rains like a sonuvabitch in Hue, Vietnam-

especially in the monsoon season.

This year has been especially bad. Many people have died and continue to die, and the water levels have risen to flood buildings to up to a meter and a half. Fortunately, My's relatives are ok, although i don't know how that is, since they live right on one of the canals.

The biggest issue, though, is that the local crocodile farm flooded as well, and over 2,000 crocodiles escaped into the flooded streets of Hue, causing understandable panic. Can you imagine? There could be a crocodile in your own home and you wouldn't even know until it was too late.

If i were there right now, i'd be paddling my couch the hell out of Hue.

The fall of Hoang Thuy Linh

Last month Hoang Thuy Linh, famous vietnamese actress was disgraced when her boyfriend's sex tape was leaked on the internet.

Whereas in America such a thing makes one more popular and rich, in Vietnam, it's a career-ender. It's a testament to the fact that the social freedoms that the youth of vietnam are striving toward are not coming quick enough. The traditional social values still rule in Vietnam.

Two weeks ago, Hoang Thuy appeared on vietnamese television to apologize to her family and fans. Her incredibly popular tv show was cancelled. She will never work in Vietnam again. Even the mighty dollar can't help her now.

With the way things are going in Vietnam now though, i think if the same thing happens five years from now, things will be way different.

You buy water one from me?

This is me screwing with the Cambodian vendor girls in Siem Reap.

I Heart Louis Theroux

Genius. I want to BE him.

Every episode of Weird Weekends gives me more reason to live.

Watch this one and you might understand.

I love the relationship he has with the redhead girl.

Li Wei Chinese Photography

The Art of Li Wei :: www.liwei.com

Happy Birthday My

Anh nho em My oi, anh yeu em nhieu lam!

Rock, Scissors, Paper, Hammer, Hole

The vietnamese can't resist adding songs to games.

The song you sing when playing rock, scissors, paper goes like this: "Mot, hai, ba- ra cai gi? ra cai ngay!" (one, two, three- what you got? I got this!)

And also for some reason they added a hammer and a hole. the hammer crushes the rock, but falls in the hole. the rock falls in the hole, and i suppose so do the scissors. The paper covers the hole and the rock....

So don't pick scissors, cause all you can do is cut paper, apparently.

My Singing

This melody is great. I like My's taste in mid-century vietnamese torch songs.

Digging In

Yes, I'll be here for a while. But My is planning to visit in October, so get in line. You will be obliged (lucky) to patronize her beautician skillz and eat some damn good vietnamese food.

Howell Golson
2113 SE Ankeny #2
Portland, OR 97214

The Grits Racket

The Screen Door on E. Burnside might have the Portland monopoly on grits, but $3.00 a bowl? Good Lord, people!

Some Southerner is exacting a slow and curious revenge on unsuspecting yankees. Allow me to give you a lesson about grits: they are extremely cheap. Unless they had to build a grits pipeline all the way from Memphis to Portland, $3.00 for a bowl of grits is ludicrous.

Screw you and your Alabama Scramble, Screen Door.

My's hair

My put cornrows in her hair. I guess the boredom of Quang Ngai is getting to her. She looks positively Jamaican. Boogie on, reggae woman! She's a chameleon like that- sometimes she seems Brazilian or Aztec or even African too. Sometimes I totally forget she's Asian.

Sorry I didn't get a screen capture of her hair.

Woo's Photos

My friend's photos are soooo worth a look. Really great stuff, Woo.

Classism in War

The Vietnam conflict has been widely ridiculed as a racist war. One historian wrote that it was a war where "white people sent black people to kill yellow people in an effort to supposedly protect a land that they stole from red people."

One black soldier, upon realizing that the treatment the Vietnamese received from the Americans was much like what he himself received back home, said to his commanding officer, "A gook is just the same as a nigger, right?" The officer slapped him on the back- "You're a smart nigger."

But he wasn't being racist. He was proving the soldier's sordid point.

Racism is born of classism. Modern war, by nature, is classist. The wheat of society administrate a war that the chaff go and fight. It's the old army game, from here to eternity.

Kids that had grown up begging and scraping for their existence in America were suddenly confronted by a people who saw them as unimaginably rich. These poor American kids were then the objects of all the hate and pain that they themselves felt back home. The children that begged the soldiers for food alternately needed and despised them. Some soldiers simply couldn't handle the constant reminders of their own pain and what waited for them when(if) they got home, and resorted to frustrated violence against these children. Cans of army rations were hurled at kid's heads from personnel trucks.

I was deeply moved when I read of one of these soldier's return to America. He sat at the kitchen table talking quietly with his mother. His mother apologized that there was no food in the house. The boy jumped up in a frenzy, flinging open cabinets and drawers. Within minutes the table was heaped with boxes and cans of edible things, and he stood red-faced in front of his mother.

"No food, Mom?? NO FOOD?!?"

My Korean Soap

I've really been missing my Korean soap opera. I need to make a search to see if I can watch it online. I hope Ugyeong doesn't run off to Vietnam, and he can put aside his anger towards Gukcha. I hope Pungyeong someday finds her mother.

Apparently Korean programming is gaining popularity internationally. It is definitely entertaining. But also for some reason all the dramas are subtitled in English, which could further explain the popularity. They love it in Hawaii. If interest keeps growing, KBS might be included in your basic cable someday.

Hooray!

Oh Snap.

Portland folks practice an almost paradoxical blend of politeness and informality.

I was eating at Pho Van and was intently drawing my water glass when the water kid came over. Then he noticed I was drawing the water glass.

"Excuse me sir- If I fill up your glass, is it going to fuck up your drawing?"

Classic.

Insubordination

I was reading about how near the end of the Vietnam conflict, US soldiers were refusing to fight in increasing numbers. They flat-out refused orders. One soldier was asked if he feared punishment.

He said, "What're they gonna do? Send me to Vietnam?"

Seven Steps to Hell

I was walking around town early in the morning the other day looking for breakfast, when a man stumbled out of Hal's Tavern, which apparently is open at 6 AM (?). He was wearing an army hat with a patch which said "Seven Steps to Hell". I learned that he was stationed in Hue after the Tet offensive as part of the effort to retake the city from the North Vietnamese.

I've only read about how hellish the all-out urban battle was- this man lived all 25 days of it. The once grand imperial city was virtually destroyed during that month, as shells rained on the old citadel, and intense, unprecedented house-to-house warfare made every building a potential target. As in the case of Fallujah in Iraq, Hue had to be destroyed in order to save it.

The man told me of the disorganization, the constant firefights, and the ineptitude of the commanding officers. He said they lost officers on an almost daily basis. Sometimes two a day. Nobody had a clue what they were doing and men were dying everywhere, adding to the confusion. You get a sense of the mess in Full Metal Jacket. The last third of the movie when they are searching for the sniper- that was Hue.

I asked what Seven Steps to Hell meant. He said that since the fighting was so heavy and the bodycount so high, once you were dropped off at the landing zone in Hue, you took no more than seven steps before being thrust headlong into hell.

I've since learned it means something altogether different, but if he believes it, I'll let that one lie.

More about My

I miss her very much.

1.) The concept of sarcasm is lost on her. It's refreshing to know that she means everything she says.
2.) She doesn't drink or smoke. Also refreshing.
3.) She insists on hand-washing her clothes. She doesn't trust machines to do it well enough. Such a purist.
4.) She's always doing mischievous yet innocuous things. One time she basically stole (borrowed) a woman's bicycle fruit stand and rode it down the street a bit, ringing the bell, trying to drum up business. I was left behind, awkwardly shrugging at the fruit lady.
5.) She's largely untouched by American culture, and she doesn't care. While i was watching Different Strokes in my jamjams, she was listening to communist propaganda on a loudspeaker. She doesn't use slang (sigh), either.
6.) She has an uncanny sense of color. She can color-combo really strange or unexpected colors when buying clothes and such, without hardly thinking. Great eye on this girl.

Settling in

Fixed the car. It's almost laughable how simple a machine a VW Beetle is. I got my phone turned back on, but I lost all my numbers, so if you'd call or text me, I'd have your number again. Thanks.

Vietnamese Wisdom

My told me a vietnamese saying once:

A woman loves her husband very much, but she doesn't know him very well.
A man knows his wife very well, he just doesn't love her as much.

I know that's cynical, but I find it very interesting. Let it sit for a bit.

Howell Golson, Opium Addict

The customs people took my lovely opium pipes on the grounds that they are drug paraphernalia. I told them to look at the craftsmanship, and I swore I had no intentions of smoking opium in them. They didn't believe me.

Really, guys. Where are the opium addicts these days? Show me! Do I look like I run with a crew of 19th century Chinese railroad workers?

"Oh man, the boys in the den are gonna be soooo jealous of these...."

Stateside

I'm back in portland. I have no address. My phone is not working right now. My car doesn't work. So please don't worry if i don't get in touch right away. I'm alive and well.

My first feeling of reverse culture shock was in the airport when I realized I could overhear and understand people's conversations.

People say some dumb shit, right? I can't believe the brain-numbing things people talk about. Makes me wish I didn't understand again- and get back to what I was thinking about.

Coming Home

Yes, I said that. For reasons uncontrollable, I'm coming home Friday. This Friday. I feel like that scene in Forrest Gump when he stops running- "I'm going home now..."

So if you want to see me, I'll be the guy pulled over for reckless driving outside the bun bo restaurant. Get in touch soon before I take off for South America.

Just kidding....or am I?

Some things I've learned traveling:

1. Hot water and flush toilets are SO bourgeois. For that matter, so are beds.
2. You either know who you are, or you are who you know. Yes, you.
3. Korean television rules.
4. And lastly, all I really need in this life is a canteen and a compass.

See you soon.

Enforcing Civility

On CCTV 9 in China there is a public service announcement that encourages people to do things like help an old lady who's fallen down or share your umbrella with someone who's getting drenched at a bus stop. Do we really need to be told this? I thought we had progressed from these points already...

I also just learned about a design for a concept car that would allow cars to communicate with each other. One example the program gave of the benefits of this technology would be that if you were speeding your pregnant wife to the hospital, you could use your credit card to pay the car in front of you to let you pass.

WHAT?!?

This is PROGRESS? Is this really the culmination of human effort? I wonder if there will be a way to haggle the price of that...

Speaking strictly for me- if your car tells mine that your wife needs to get to the hospital, by all means... pass!

WTF??

I just heard something shocking, albeit not entirely surprising.

My's Dad was singing war songs last night and telling some stories. He said that during the war there were students and academic types in the South that were trying to persuade public opinion to stop the war and send the Americans home.

Now, that's all fine and good, but these people were profiled and summoned to American war offices under the pretext that they would be interviewed for a job. Each person was interviewed and then taken into another room and secretly killed. They strangled them quietly so as to not alert the men still waiting for their "interviews" outside.

Now, I can't think of a reason My's Dad would lie about this. He doesn't have a beef with Americans. He also said he knew people firsthand that went to these things and never came back.

So assuming he isn't lying....did this ACTUALLY HAPPEN??

My says Hi

Hello!

Six days in Hue

I just spent six halcyon days in Hue. It was all hibiscus and honeysuckle, butterflies and bumblebees. The weather was gorgeous and the company welcoming. I went to stay at My's aunt's house with My's mom , Na, My's brother Tuan, and several cousins.

One day we celebrated the anniversary of the death of My's grandmother. In Vietnam it is customary to clean the grave of the loved one and have a big feast on that person's death day. If you saw "Vertical Ray of the Sun", it was just like that. The food was fantastic at the party, and I fell in love with no fewer than seven of My's cousins. At one point I was roped into a drinking contest with My's aunt. She kept ordering me to empty my glass as she emptied hers. I figured I could outlast this little woman, but it was pure hubris, and Tuan and I ended up passed out on a mat for a couple hours.

The next day we all climbed in a van and drove to Suoi Voi, a natural spring near Bach Ma National Forest. It was some of the best natural swimming I've ever seen- like a classic Mountain Dew commercial. Rope swings, caves, waterfalls, clear, clean water, all at the foot of the mountains...just beautiful. We all had a blast, needless to say.

Right now I'm back in Saigon with My. She has come down to visit me. We are having fun in the SG.

My's Dad in Cambodia, Part II

I finally got the followup to My's Dad venture to Cambodia.

Well. As you remember, My's cousin's wife ran off with some guy to Cambodia with the family savings. My's Dad went to Cambodia to find them and fix whatever needed fixing.

Apparently the guy who she ran off with was only trying to take her money, and his wife was in cahoots. My's dad got the money back though, and dragged the woman back to Saigon. Back in Saigon, there was a long line of My's relatives waiting to get their chance to yell at her. My's cousin has taken her back, to the vocal protests of everyone. He thinks she was just having a momentary lapse of reason, and she was easily influenced by a trickster. hmm. A momentary lapse of reason that makes one leave their eight and six year olds waiting in a train station for six hours for a mom that's not coming back... Needless to say, her kids don't want anything to do with her.

The woman's family has been offering gifts of apology. Each of her family members has accepted some blame for her. Her father said that it is his fault that he didn't give her a better education so she would be more wise. Interesting theory. I don't think even a Harvard law degree is going to help this lady.

Thích Quang Ðuc

Behind the Thien Mu Pagoda in Hue is a light blue Austin sedan, quietly rusting in the corner of a monastic building.

On June 11, 1963, buddhist monk Thích Quang Ðuc drove this car to the corner of Phan Đình Phung street and Lê Văn Duyet street in Saigon. He took a gasoline can from the trunk and sat in the lotus position on the street corner. He doused himself in gasoline, and he burned himself alive.

It was a protest against the Diem regime's repression of Buddhism in Vietnam.

New York Times correspondent David Halbersham witnessed the event:

"I was too shocked to cry, too confused to take notes or ask questions, too bewildered to even think.... As he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing people around him."

I can't imagine a conviction that could drive someone to endure such pain. It makes me wish I was in touch with such a strong purpose. I can't imagine a clearer, more powerful statement. The random, angry destructiveness of today's suicide bombings clouds their message.

Hue

So I'm back in Hue for the third time. Why do I keep coming here?

I'm inexplicably drawn to Hue. It's like a mysterious puzzle. It's not that she's overtly beautiful- she's selfish with her charms. I think it's taken living in Vietnam for a while to appreciate Hue. And possibly, appreciating Hue means truly loving Vietnam.

Today at the emperors' tombs along the Perfume River, I was frantically trying to capture what I was feeling in photographs, but I realized quickly it's just not possible. I'm simply not good enough to relay the majestic yet melancholic presence of the tombs. The quietly crumbling buildings tell stories only they can tell- my pictures seemed only to disfigure them further.

On another note, My's mom and Na are coming into town tomorrow to visit her aunt. I will go stay with them tomorrow. I'm excited to see Na, but she's apparently under the impression that i brought her a bunch of presents back from China, and I'm afraid the Olympics pen that blows bubbles isn't gonna cut it. I'm going to have to get up early in the morning and go shopping...

Vietnam!

As the taxi made its way through a sea of conical hats bobbing under the weight of fruit baskets, an unexpected feeling came over me. I didn't expect to be, but I'm absolutely overjoyed to be in Vietnam again.

Something about its sweaty lawlessness, its corruption, the dirt, and the ferocity in which daily life progresses here has indelibly endeared Vietnam to my soul. I love the constant feeling of anticipation and the hint that something cataclysmic will happen at any moment, creating instant heroes and villians... I feel like I'm in a Hemingway novel... or a Tarzan movie. I think I'm addicted.

Godammit, I love Vietnam!

The Mongolians

On the train i shared a cabin with two Mongolians, a man (Dorgvadga Baabatar) and his mother. His mother was one of the most interesting-looking people I've ever seen: broad-faced, light brown eyes, and the bridge her nose was so high, it disappeared into the plane of her forehead- like an Indian chief or Maya warrior. Beautiful, imposing woman.

They didn't speak a word of English, but the man knew a good fifty words in German, so we did what we could to communicate. He had lived in Munich for a year at the Mongolian Embassy, and he was traveling with his mother to Hanoi. How they were going to get on in Vietnam with no English and a few phrases of German, I don't know. I inquired as to what they were going to do there, but his German was too poor to field that one.

I don't know if you know this, but the Mongolian language sounds a great deal like Russian. It doesn't sound Asian in the least. Even the newspaper he was reading and the food packaging they had was written in cyrillic. I had no idea. Fascinating.

The Queuing Thing

I thought at first it was just a Vietnamese thing, but the Chinese do it, or don't do it, too.

These people simply do not wait in lines. You could stand a half inch behind the person in front of you, and people will still cut in front of you. You have to literally get inside the ticket booth at the train station to get served. Like my dad would say, it's the damndest thing i ever seen. I've never seen a pushier bunch of people in my life.

I felt a victorious bit of justice though in the customs line at the Beijing airport. The Vietnamese tour group behind me was having a fit about all that space between that yellow line and the immigration desk. I could literally watch their minds snap. I loved seeing them squirm...

I'm going back in.

Qingdao is a beautiful place. It's considered a beach resort town for the Chinese. When we drove up into the Lao Shan Mountains yesterday, I was astounded to find that the coast looked a great bit like Malibu, but with more trees. The weather has been mimicking California as well, with slight (to heavy) fog all day and cool ocean winds tempering the sun. The city itself is becoming stylishly modern, and is approaching 8 million people, while still remaining clean and relatively quiet. It is quite pleasant here.

So why then am I heading back into Hell's Sauna- Vietnam? Du Ma! May noi gi vay?! I guess I thrive on hardship. I am heading back to Beijing today, and tomorrow I have a train ticket all the way to Hanoi. I'll be traveling clear across China, which should be interesting. I'll talk to you back in the 'Nam.

Fond Memory

One day a couple months ago, i was fed up with work and drove over to My's salon to see what Trang and the gang were up to. My had moved already, and she had given the salon to Trang.

I told Trang I wanted to take a joy ride out to District 2 to see some of the countryside. Trang wasn't too busy and wanted to come with. She gussied up a bit (which i thought was cute), and about that time Na was getting off school, so we picked her up on the way. We told her we were going for a ride, which was just fine with her.

With Trang behind me and Na in front with her arms crossed on the console, we crossed the Saigon river into a decidedly more green District 2. Na asked where we were going. Trang told her "America". Na threw up her hands and said "YEA!!", but she knew we were kidding.

With the wind in my face and the sun approaching the perfect angle, and with two beautiful companions and an escape from the work desk, I remember thinking to myself, "now isn't this nice."

It's the little things that make it all worthwhile.

Chinese diapers

Here in China, moms tend to forgo diapers for the ever-fashionable slitted pants. The entire ass of the kid's pants is gone.

Now, I realize the advantages of the assless pants- you don't have to buy diapers. But the thrill is gone when you see a mom wiping her kid's ass in public. And if said kid falls over and catches himself with his hands, you're staring right up said kid's butthole. Which I can do without.

Vesper and Patrick's Sweet Ass Pad

Vesper and Patrick's Sweet Ass Pad
Originally uploaded by toy ghost

Believe it or not, this is actually Vesper and Patrick's Qingdao apartment. This is the Stanley Kubrick room- all it needs is Symphony 9 by Ludwig Van. The fake flowers behind the glass is a decidedly Chinese spin, though.

We're right by the ocean- I fall asleep to the sound of the waves every night. Very pleasant place. Really cool town. Nice beaches and mountains in the backdrop.

They could've done A LOT worse.

June 4, 1989

Remember that day- 18 years ago today- when tanks rolled through Tiananmen Square to squash a student protest for democracy, and all those kids were killed and arrested? There was that famous picture with the guy standing in front of the tank. You know about that, right?

Well, the Chinese government is doing its very best to make sure no one here does. If you google "Tiananmen Square" in China, all you get is pretty picture of the square and stuff. Wikipedia doesn't come up at all. It's one of the many sites that you can't access from China. I can't believe the measures taken here to censor information.

The "tank guy" doesn't even exist to the Chinese. No one knows who he is. He simply doesn't exist. I'm sure he and his family were erased. There is no information about him, anywhere.

I was planning to have some more information here about the massacre, but I can't find any, so if you're interested about what happened (or didn't happen...), you can google it from there.

Beijing Olympic Stadium

Do yourself a favor and go check out Beijing's new Olympic Stadium! It's MAD!

Then- go see the BUBBLE BUILDING!

Signs in a Chinese Taxi

NO Spitting in Cab. (this is an actual issue in China. People hock up phlegm all over the place. It's foul.)

NO drunkens or unattended mentals. ( I wonder if I count as an unattended mental.)

Chinese Acrobats

Vesper had to go to a wedding in the country, so I'm left alone again (such is my lot) until Saturday.

I decided to take in a Chinese Acrobatics show last night. It was held in an ancient theater down a dubious alley downtown, but the show was amazing. I'm sure you've seen this sort of thing on TV, but nothing prepared me for the real live spectacle. Cirque du Soliel blows compared to this.

There were girls who twirled saucers at the ends of sticks (four in EACH HAND) while they danced and did flips. There were boys jumping through hoops backwards, feet first. There were girls who could sit on their own heads and stand on their own shoulders while they balanced another girl doing the same while balancing full wine glasses on the ends of sticks gripped in their teeth. There were uncyclists who flipped metal bowls onto each other's heads with their feet. Two and three at a time. Total madness.

Now I ask you, why is it that China doesn't win every single gymnastics event at every Olympics? They must do really well at least, right?

First Impressions of China

When the taxi pulled out of the Beijing airport and onto the expressway, several things went through my mind.

1.) Wow, it's nice and cool! (only 85 degrees)
2.) Wow, this road is smooth!
3.) Look at all the space!
4.) Nobody is honking, and we aren't slamming on the brakes every three seconds!
5.) The air! I can breathe! (kinda, Beijing is still very polluted)
6.) This is paradise!

Coming from being in urban Vietnam for a few months, maybe anywhere seems like the Garden of Eden. But i have to say that China seems much more clean and civil than its savage neighbor to the south. I think it takes leaving Vietnam to really grasp how primitive it is.

The Olympics are coming next year, and everything in Beijing is getting a facelift. Entire sections of the Forbidden City are draped in scaffolding, and even Mao's tomb is under renovation so you can't go in. I'm a little disappointed I can't go see Chairman Mao, but i doubt there's a complaint box.

The tourist sights might be ready for the throngs next summer, but I tell you- the people ARE NOT. No one speaks a lick of English. The taxi drivers really need help with even basic English. I got in a cab and said "Tiananmen Square" and the driver looked at me like i was covered in ants. Come on, man, it's the single most important place in all of China! People are going to want to go there, trust me.

Even when you have the directions written in Chinese, the drivers still don't know where they're going. I was dropped off miles away from my preferred destination yesterday. These guys better get it together soon, or else it's going to be a total mess here come next summer.

One thing's for sure , the Beijing Olympics mascots are rad! Good job!

The Great Wall of China

The Great Wall of China
Originally uploaded by toy ghost

I'll talk about my thoughts on China soon. It's been a whirlwind the past few days. Today Vesper and I went to Simitai, a remote and wild section of the Great Wall.

There aren't many tourists here as there are at theme-park-esque Badaling. One of the reasons is the dizzying heights and the seventy degree inclines. I wasn't prepared for how truly amazing the Wall is. One part of the Simatai wall follows the crest of an extremely jagged mountain ridge. I can just hear the planners talking about where the wall should go-

planners: "the wall should go along those little bumpy hills down there."

emperor: "nah! that won't work...Where is the highest, most jaggedly, precarious, ridiculous place we can build this...oh- over there! Brilliant!"

And Vesper and I hiked the whole thing. Up to where they wouldn't let us, of course. Well, a little past.

We had a little Beijing duck tonight here back in the city, and sleep comes soon.

Big Red

Since they are soon to be ruling the earth, I suppose I should go now to meet our new masters. If the bastards (did i say that?) at the Chinese embassy get me my visa today as they said, I will be on the 10 AM flight from Hanoi to Beijing tomorrow to meet up with Vesper. We are going to rage the 'jing, as she put it.

Stay tuned.

Hot Springs

This was a while ago, but I wanted to write about it before I forget about it.

A few weeks ago when it was raining in Hue, My and I set out to find some hot springs in the jungle that her cousin was talking about. We found them at the foot of a mountain about 40 km outside Hue.

The place was deserted except for us, and was set in a wild bamboo thicket at the foot of a waterfall. With rain falling on my head, I submerged myself in the warm water up to my eyes and swam along the river bank. I felt like a special ops jungle commando, hunting Charlie.... or some other guy who swims with a knife in his teeth.

I found out that day that one of My's favorite movies is Rambo, believe it or not. She thinks it's hilarious. We re-enacted the scene where Rambo camouflages himself as part of the riverbank in order to ambush the poor vietnamese guy. My was the vietnamese guy.

Moron-ah

The drug dealers down by the lake in Hanoi would sell a lot more pot if they learned how to say it right. I've heard "manna...you!...manna?", "Mah-wah-nee-a", and my personal favorite, "hey, you want moron-ah?"

All set with moron-ah, thanks.

Home

This morning i was enjoying my customary baguette and coffee, when suddenly I heard Willie Nelson singing "They all Went to Mexico" on the stereo. And for the first time in five months, i was intensely homesick for America. It's amazing how only half a bar of any Willie Nelson song can speak so directly to one's soul.

It's not enough to make me hop a plane home though. Gotta get my ass to China on Sunday. Like another great southern songwriter said-

These ain't my clothes I'm wearing,
and this old road goes on forever.

Americans and War

I was reading a war book one day (Dispatches by Michael Herr-great read) when My piped up and said, "You like war. Americans love war."

I was indignant at first. "No we aren't! We like freedom... and stuff. Some of us are great people."

"Then why are you always at war with somebody?"

I wanted to say, "because the people who remember World War II aren't dead yet, the entire country has yet to come to grips with what happened in Vietnam, and since the end of the Cold War, we've been itching to get our greedy hands all over Asia, and since 2001 we finally have an excuse."- but i don't think she'd accept that answer.

I had to agree with her. In some way, somehow, we are constantly either physically or financially involved in a war.

Even things that aren't even actually wars. Like the "war on drugs" or the "war on poverty". Why is everything always a "war"? The term implies a righteous and fixed position, from where a clear and delineated enemy shall be smitten. The word is too simple, and really- what actually came out of the "war on drugs"? Didn't stop meth.

The war in Vietnam was lost largely because one country started a war against another country without even bothering to learn about who they were fighting. It is a valuable and overlooked lesson these days.

I'd like to suggest a different terminology for the "war on terrorism", and therefore perhaps a different strategy: "the investigation into finding the solution to the grudges of all people so that we don't have to kill each other anymore."

Or is that too long? Maybe an acronym?

Army Museum

The Army Museum in Hanoi houses artifacts from Vietnam's victories over the Chinese, French, Mongols, Japanese, and Americans.

The Mongols tried four times to assimilate Vietnam into the empire. Although they ruled virtually every square inch of Asia, the Mongols never occupied Vietnam for even one day. The last attempt was at Bach Dang river in 1288, where the Mongols attacked from upriver. After being severely battered by the Vietnamese, the Mongols tried to escape downriver to the sea, but the Vietnamese had planted thousands of sharpened stakes in the riverbed near the mouth of the river. The Mongol ships were stopped, and the Vietnamese battered the Mongols into oblivion. Some of the stakes are on exhibit in the museum.

Outside the Museum is a giant sculpture made from the twisted, burnt remnants of downed French and American planes and weaponry. It is a monumental, ominous, victorious display. It is as if to say, "Won't you ever learn? However big you are, we will TAKE YOU DOWN."

He who approaches with sword drawn shall by the sword perish.

Things I miss about My

1.) The first thing she does when she enters the house is take her pants off. It's just how she rolls.

2.) She sings vietnamese love songs in the shower.

3.) She is a superb masseuse. It's oriental wizardry, I tell you. I honestly can't tell what she's doing sometimes.

4.) She smiles bigger and laughs louder than anyone i've ever known.

5.) She refers to me in the third person. Brilliant- i love it. She asks me, "How is Howell doing?" Just a sec- lemme ask...

6.) She confuses French words and grammar in her English. It's precious. Sometimes a sentence has English, French AND Vietnamese words in it. But i understand.

7.) When she orders noodle soup, she eats everything but the noodles.

8.) She does the coolest morning exercises that look like martial arts.

9.) She is a fantastic cook. That is, if you like French or Vietnamese food.

10.) and lastly, I can't trust anyone else to cut my hair.

Na

My talked to Na on the phone the other day.

Na: "Where is Howell? I've not seen him around for a while!"

My: "He is traveling up north- you'll see him in june."

Na: "Oh- does he miss me?"

My: "I'm sure he does."

Na: "Good. You tell him to bring me some candy."

Candy it is.

Northwest Mountains

Black H'mong girls
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

The northwest mountains of Vietnam are home to several tribes of hill people who migrated down from China. They retain their own religions and languages, but you can speak to them in Vietnamese and some English.

Sapa town is flooded with Black H'mong, who are distinguished by their indigo-dyed clothing, cyllindrical hats, and leggings. Their costume is my favorite design of the hill people- sparse but striking.

When i got to Sapa it was raining buckets, so i spent the whole day waxing pathetic in my room, because there ain't nothing to do in Sapa when it's raining.

The next day though, the heavens opened up, the birds were harmonizing in thirds, and the glory of Sapa stretched for miles. I spent the whole day hiking in the Muong Hoa River Valley, visiting Black H'mong villages. Even though the rains had turned the terrain into what looked and felt like soggy quiche lorraine- and I was a virtual mudman for it, it was a very good day.

I also visited Bac Ha market, where all the hill folk congregate on Sundays to sell pigs and water buffalo. There i got to see the Flower H'mong, the Red Dzao and the Zay people. They all seem to get along pretty well. No fights that i saw. Check out the pictures of their clothes.

The Fuzz

I've been pulled over a couple times in Hanoi. It seems I can't get away with what I do in Saigon. They don't really like the "toi khong biet" (i didn't know) excuse, either. The officials in Hanoi also aren't into Americans, so I try to keep that under wraps. I'll have to be more careful- no major problems yet.

Except yesterday I left my bike parked on the street next to the hotel and the police impounded it. I went down to the precinct and showed them the title, but they made me sit and wouldn't tell me why. The guys at the desk were just watching tv, doing nothing. To make matters worse, my bike was right there in the office. They knew it was mine too. So I asked them if i could have it back and they said to wait. For what? Gimme a ticket and let's go!

So I wait there for at least a half hour, and then I ask "when?" and they said some things i didn't understand. So I called My and asked her to talk to them. She started to ask them what was going on and they hung up on her. That was it for me.

My tactic then was to sit in the chair directly across from this man and stare at him. Not in a mean, theatening way, just staring. He wouldn't look at me and I could tell he was getting nervous. I was playing with fire i know, but he knew he was wrong, and I was fed up with him. After a few minutes he couldn't take it anymore and he unlocked the bike and let me go without a ticket.

I rule.

Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum

Bac Ho's guard
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

I went across town today to see my uncle Ho. They have him on display in a big glass coffin inside a huge monumental tomb. I really wished they allowed photos inside. The decor is a splendid blend of Roman pomp and socialist austerity, with tasteful and sparse vietnamese motifs mixed in with the brass and marble. Really well done, guys.

I was expecting Ho himself to look all horror-show, like the Millard Fillmore robot at the Hall of Presidents at Disney World, but he looks really good for being dead forty years. They have him bathed in a golden light, and his hands look like they might wave at any moment. Hey, Ho!

I did wonder though about how long they could actually keep him that way. I mean, is it possible that he could remain presentable forever? I also wondered about the strict dress code inside the tomb. What if you were one of those peasants that gave his all for the cause of the Communists, and you were denied access to your beloved leader because you couldn't afford shoes? That seems anti-socialist to me. At least there wasn't an entrance fee.

My new Dan Bau

my dan bau
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

Oh happy day!

I found a sweet electric dan bau! It's a single-string instrument with a tremelo arm to change pitch. It's made of wood with mother-of-pearl inlaid fishermen and stuff. It has a pickup and a 1/4 inch jack so you can plug in. It folds up nice and they gave me a leather bag with a shoulder strap for easy portability. I can't wait to play it through an effects pedal.
Listen to how radible it sounds.

Metal.

Hanoi Snapshot

Today I saw an image that sums Hanoi up for me-

an old man in bedroom slippers and silk pyjamas (with a pipe in the shirt pocket), wearing a beret and sunglasses. Damn. There aren't enough "o"s in "smooth" to say it right. "The Dude" would be proud.

Thousand-yard Stare

I realize that I might make it seem like traveling in Vietnam is delightful and easy. I want to clear that up- it's not.

If you like peace and quiet, cleanliness, things that smell good, things that work properly, being dry and comfortable, or getting your way more than 20% of the time, stay far away from here. This is a rough and unsophisticated country. People constantly try to bleed you of your money. Public transport is ridiculously slow and uncomfortable. No one ever does anything on time, if they do it at all.

I've gotten used to fighting for everything I want and practicing unlimited patience. My brain is totally rewired. When I look in the mirror, I notice the same hard, lean look I've seen in the local people. Sometimes I catch myself zoning out with that "thousand-yard stare" the marines talked about- just soon enough to jump out of the way of a pedal-cab.

It's all very rewarding though. I would never say it wasn't. Assuming I make it out...;)

Confession

Something happened a couple weeks ago that has shaken me terribly. I have been reluctant to talk about it because I didn't want people to worry, and the only reason I'm saying anything now is because I think there's something important to learn from it.

I almost killed a three-year-old girl.

I was driving home on a narrow stretch of road in Saigon, when a child I spotted on the side of the road (who I thought was going to stay on the side of the road) decided she wanted to be directly in front of me. I'll never forget the sound of that kid's head hitting the fender.

Within seconds a crowd of Vietnamese was around me. Her Dad was calm, but other people tried to talk to me, and I didn't understand. I was horrified. One kid looked at me like I just strangled his puppy. The look is branded on my mind.

Thankfully I didn't see any blood. The child was hysterical, though. I ending up riding the child and her father to the "hospital", a one room roadside shack. We had x-rays taken, and the father told me he wanted me to pay for the service. That was ok with me, because he was obviously poor. I noticed though, that he told me a figure higher than the actual bill. So he wanted something for punitive damage. Whatever.

Then, when all was ok, the child was quiet and in her mother's arms, the man basically extorted about $40 out of me. He said it was for medicine, even though I'd already paid for that. I didn't care though- I just wanted far away, and to be done with the whole nightmare. I would have paid much more.

Later though, I started to think about what happened, and correct me if you think I'm wrong. This man took advantage of a frightened foreigner and a frightened child to capitalize on the pain of his daughter and take money that wasn't coming to him. It was a pure accident, and he knew it- His hands were even shaking when I gave him the money.

I know poverty can sometimes make people do deplorable things -but shame on you, my friend.

Hanoi

Tortoise Tower, Hanoi
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

Hanoi, the Rising Dragon. Lovely, lovely Hanoi.

If Saigon is the young, brash, sprawling Los Angeles of Vietnam, Hanoi is Vietnam's old New York. This town is a distilled, concentrated, high-octane crack-like substance of Parisian grace and vietnamese culture. It feels a lot like a medeival European city. It is absolutely gorgeous. Hanoi has already earned its place as one of my favorite cities in the world.

The shopping is top notch. Trendy boutiques are housed in crumbling French colonial buildings, and the street food is to die for.
I have found many little antique stores in winding back alleys, and after frequent visits, i have amassed an impressive opium pipe collection. One is shaped like an elephant!

I also found a shop that sells original HAND PAINTED communist propaganda posters. You can see the pencil lines. I stood there drooling for over an hour. I bought a reproduction of one that depicts Vietnam's ill-fated space program. It has this vietnamese astronaut with a fanciful, ridiculous, seventies-style space station in the background. I'm happier than a pig in shit.

My had to get back to work, by the way. I'm on my own until China.

My's Dad in Cambodia

My's Dad is a tough guy. Back when he was a policeman, he was something of a cowboy. Being a policeman in Hue during the war meant you could do basically whatever you wanted and get away with it. My's Dad killed several people- criminals, and some that just pissed him off. People were (and still are) very scared of him. One time he was drunk and got jealous about something his friend said about My's mom, and he chased the man around with a knife, actually stabbing him a couple times. My's Dad is a really nice guy, but if you piss him off, he will KILL YOU.

The other day we found out that the wife of My's cousin took the family savings and ran off with a guy to Cambodia. Whenever something important needs to be sorted out in the Nguyen family, you bring out the big guns- My's Dad.

Right now, My's Dad is on his way to Cambodia. Heaven help those people.

Hien

My's baby sister Hien just finished high school, and she's entering college. In Vietnam, high school graduates take a test that will determine what they study and what they will eventually do for work. You don't get to choose your major. What your job will be depends on your skills and the needs of Vietnam. Hien is going to be a nurse.


But she probably won't actually become a nurse, because she's engaged to a rich French guy. They will probably move to Paris, and Hien will become a professional shopper. Not what uncle Ho had in mind.

Flattery

Here in Vietnam, you use different pronouns to refer to different people depending on their age. That means there are many words for "you".

When i talk to women, i like to call them a pronoun that implies an age bracket that is younger than the age they obviously are. They LOVE it. They smile and laugh, and sometimes they hit me in the arm.

Hoogo, you charmer- free noodles for the white boy!

Pooc len

I was playing with a vietnamese globe the other day, interested to see what vietnamese call different places. I now know how to write some American cities in vietnamese.

So if some vietnamese guy comes up to you and asks you where you come from, those of you from Portland can look him right in the eye and say, "I'm from Pooc len, in the good ol' Hoa of Ky!"

Halong Bay

Halong Bay
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

Oh my. Yes, Halong Bay is amazing.

There are over 2000 karst islands jutting up out of the quiet water, creating a labyrinth where you could have the ultimate game of hide and seek. The water is calm ,and is perfect for kayaking. My and I spent a few days cruising the bay, kayaking into caves and swimming in the clear, warm water. We spent the night on the deck of a junk, counting stars. Trying to get My to correctly pronounce "constellation" was endlessly amusing.

I can't say enough about this place. I could stay here for months.

Di Choi

So i was galavanting around the central highlands when i got a call from My.

"Honey oi! I am so boring!"

"You're not boring , babe. You're bored."

"Same same."

"No, not same same. You're anything but boring."

"Whatever Honey says. I want to di choi (travel) with you."

So i rocketed up to Hoi An to meet up with My for a week. I love Hoi An. It's a sleepy old seaside trading town with great old architecture. It's like stepping back in time 400 years. I can't get enough of it , actually. Eating Chao Vit ( duck rice soup) on the street by candlelight (no electricity) among these ancient houses is an increidble experience.

So if you don't hear from me, I'm hanging with the girl for a bit. cheers.

Tuesday's Gone

I'm all done.

I'm in the midst of packing and getting ready to split soon. Ut and I are trying to figure out what to do with all the loose ends, the chucklehead maid is totally in the way as always, and Na and Vit are running about, making a general mess of everything. Hoogo oi!

Outside people are getting ready for America Defeated Day/ Reunification Day. On April 30, 32 years ago, a fierce mile-long column of North Vietnamese tanks rolled down Le Duan street and crashed through the gates of the Reunification Palace, turning the grounds into a muddy tank parking lot. A soldier ran up the front steps unopposed and waved the NLF flag from the second story balcony. The war was officially over.

Across town, American helicopters airlifted the last Americans and lucky South Vietnamese out of the US Embassy, leaving a hoard of South Vietnamese clamoring at the gates. Finally the helicopters left for good, and thousands of people who were until then in the employ of the US army were left to their fate in the hands of the North Vietnamese.

It is ironic (?) that this is the day i too make tracks from Saigon. And like those people left at the embassy gates, there are people here who are sad to see me go. I came here alone, but i leave having four sisters, three brothers and a girlfriend. Last night Trang said, "Khong di ve nha. Nha la Saigon." (Don't go home. Saigon is home.) I will miss them all very, very much. I love every one of them. And because of the circumstances, My and I are trying our very best to not love each other too much, which is turning out to be the hardest thing of all. I will miss her most of all. I will see her one more time when I go up north. Wish me luck. Hopefully someday we'll see each other again.

I'm signing off for now. In the words of Ronnie Van Zant, Hoogo's gone with the wind.

Cu Chi

Yesterday, My's oldest sister Vit, Trang and I hopped on bikes and drove up to Cu Chi, site of the famous Viet Cong tunnels.

The Cu Chi tunnels are proof of what committed human beings are capable of. Hundreds of freedom fighters lived in this extensive tunnel system (over 200km) for months at a time, totally evading US forces. They had kitchens, sleeping quarters, meeting rooms, dining halls, and even schoolrooms all dug out of the wet dirt. Air holes were disguised as termite mounds, and careful measures were taken to divert cooking smoke far from its source.

Crawling through those tunnels, i reminded myself of the time when I and four others crowded ourselves into a doghouse after a party in Newport, Rhode Island. I didn't like it then , and i still don't like it.

The tunnels were booby trapped with grisly spiked pits. Trang playfully tried to push me into them, saying "I KILL American!!" I would have hated to be one of the US Army "tunnel rats" that was in charge of flushing the Viet Cong out of the tunnels. A thankless, terrible job. Their latin motto, Non gratum anus rodentum, is apt, meaning "not worth a rat's ass".

Passing by photos of the damage caused by American bombing and defoliation, Vit made sure i looked at every one. She looked in my eyes to make sure i understood what i was seeing. It was as if she was putting the responsibility on me to make sure all this never happened again. I realize I do have some, however little, power over the ham-fisted US war machine. Much more than she does. And that small power does place an amount of responsibilty on me. Thanks Vit, for making me realize that.

Fatal Error

Alert: Hoogo Brain no longer work.

Please revert to saved version of Hoogo Brain or reinstall Hoogo Brain driver. Cannot activate Hoogo Brain thinking function due to Hoogo scratch disk full.

Plus, it's too frickin hot.

The Tiger Lady

I just read an interesting wartime story about a young vietnamese woman called the "Tiger Lady". During 1967, she raced around Saigon on a motorbike wearing a red ao dai, long pony-tail flowing behind her, packing a .45 with which she picked off US soldiers walking down the street.

Now, I don't condone killing people. But man, that's cool.

Time

I'm counting down the seconds to when I can pack my things and leave again. I'm at the point where all my work is almost done... but it isn't. I'm trying to be ultra-patient and follow through steadily, but i have bitten off a lot to chew, and it's quite a challenge. A wise man said, "Time is a game only children play well." I, for one, suck at this game.

I've dropped the Laos idea for now, because i heard it's hot as blazes there, and i'm all done with heat for now. I'm heading for the mountains in central Vietnam. I want as much nature as possible. I want to swim in waterfalls, and trek through the hills. This is the carrot I'm dangling, and so far, it's pulled me through.

Ut

Na and Ut
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

My's little sister Ut is quickly becoming my favorite of the Nguyens. She is "jai yen" (a cool soul), as the Thais say. She is quiet and has a slight permanent grin on her face, as if she's constantly amused by the absurdity around her. Could be because she's the mother of a five-year-old.

"Ut " is the name parents give to their last kid- it actually means "youngest". She didn't end up being the last though, there are three more after her. Whoops.

Na's dad, Nam, is a police officer down in District 7. In order to be a police officer in Vietnam, you must be from a family that supported Ho Chi Minh during the war. Furthermore, you must marry someone from a family that supported Ho Chi Minh during the war. For this reason, Ut and Nam are not married, and don't live together. Plus, their families don't think highly of each other . Nam's family thinks Ut's family is un-Vietnamese, and Ut's family thinks Nam's family are sycophants and bullies. Ho Chi Minh, Schmo Chi Minh, I say.

Nam seems pretty cool to me. Even if he is a pig. ;)

More on Saigon Traffic

Driving around in Saigon is like comprehending a James Joyce novel that's being read aloud by a speedreader. Strict concentration is required for every second. There's hardly even time to blink. You have to be constantly aware of what's on both sides of you, behind you, as well as what's coming straight at you. People drive the wrong way in traffic all the time. I wouldn't be surprised if in future generations, citizens of Saigon evolved to have pairs of eyes on the sides of their heads.

People get away with traffic crimes that would cause a lot of honking and yelling in the US. People fly out of alleys, take left turns against traffic, and cut people off constantly. The climate of the road is ten times more selfish than Boston traffic, which if you don't know, is saying volumes. I come in close contact with legions of jackasses daily, and i want to scream at them and honk very often. But i don't, largely because no one else does, and also because it happens so damn often, it's just expected. You just have to shrug it off, or you'll throw off your groove to shrug off the next asshole just up the road.

Boat People Story

Curious story about the maid.

Her cousin was one of the refugee "boat people" who fled Vietnam in 1975. Many people feared imprisonment or death in the hands of the North Vietnamese, so they sold everything they owned and joined groups of other refugees on un-seaworthy boats bound for America. It was widely known that these people had wads of cash on them, so the boats were targets for pirates from the Phillipines and other islands. Many of the boat people resorted to tearing their clothes and rubbing dirt all over themselves to appear poor.

The boat that this woman was on was attacked. Every one of the 120 vietnamese were robbed and murdered. The maid's cousin was 7 months pregnant, and begged for her and her child's life. Finally the pirates agreed and set her adrift alone on the boat- the sole survivor from Vietnam. After a week on the open sea, she was picked up by an American ship and brought to America.

Crocodile Restaurant

The night before My left, a bunch of us went to the crocodile restaurant. They have a big crocodile pen, where you can choose the crocodile that looks the tastiest, and they'll kill it in front of you to whet your appetite.

In addition to barbeque crocodile, we had a course of whole fried birds. They were about the size of a chick, and they were crispy fried. I just couldn't bring myself to eat them, but i watched incredulously as the other folks snatched the little birdies with their chopsticks, dipped them in birdie sauce and chewed off their heads- as casually as if they were eating french fries. mmm- bird head...

At one point, the server set a hot pot on the table and then a plastic bag of what turned out to be live eels. He had a bit of trouble sliding them into the hot pot, because if you didn't know, eels don't like being dropped into boiling water. A couple flopped out onto the table and had to be re-inserted. But soon after we had a yumptious course of whole, boiled alive eel soup.


By the way, I tried duck fetus and it was good. A lot like pig brain.

Here's Johnny....

All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.
All work and no play and a babbling maid make Hoogo a dull boy.

Just one more week. Let's see if i make it.

Dear Maid II

Maid,

Do you not have anything to do other than stare at me while i eat? It really creeps me out. Every time i look up from my meat breakfast, i can see through your vacant eyes to the cavern in your skull, where a drooling baboon with a stick plays an eternal game of whack-a-mole with itself.

Sorry to come down on you so hard. I know you are trying. To do what, i don't know. But realize, you are such an easy target. And your ineptitude is the only entertainment i'm getting at the moment.

Thank You.

PS- No matter how many times you call me "Hoogo", it's not my name.

Home alone

My has moved up north. I will stay in Saigon until the end of the month and then it's off to Laos. I am alone in a big empty house with a halfwit maid. To keep myself amused about the situation, i've been trying to remember all the amusing dumb jokes i know:

dumber than a box of hair

a taco short of a combo plate

sharp as a bag of wet mice

a few buttons missing on her remote control

if she were any dumber, i'd have to water her twice a week

That's good enough. So the whole Nguyen family came over to help load all of My's stuff into the truck. We piled that thing like the Grinch's sleigh. In the end, there was only a very small space for the dogs, who had to ride cooped up like that for the 20 hour ride.

The neighborhood kids stared while a bunch of us guys figured out how to lift a million-pound safe onto the truck, and the neighbor lady (i've never gotten her name) came over with drinks. She has a dog who i affectionately call "Little twelve toes". This silly pup has six toes on both his hind paws. He's really self-conscious about them too, so don't talk about them in front of him.

My has promised to come back to visit soon, but I'm not sure how much time she'll have. What makes matters worse is that her restaurant is on the property of a company, a sort of company "camp". Since i'm not affiliated with the company or the businesses that cater to them, i am not allowed on the premises. So i can't visit.

Many thoughts and feelings are swirling in my head as I'm confronted with the possibility of not seeing My any more. One of them is "one of these days, these days will end". But i pray they don't end before I'm through with them.

More on that later as i gather my thoughts.

Na

Na
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

My's niece Na is a character, to say the least. I'm put in charge of picking her up at school sometimes when My is busy at her salon. Na is proud of her American boyfriend- she runs up to me with hugs and kisses. She is already grooming herself to have an American husband- "i'm crazy about Americans", she says to My. It's her version of the shining knight fantasy- a fantasy that might be shattered when she finally steps off the plane in Cleveland.

She's apparently a handful for her mom, who asks me every time i see her, "you like baby? You want one baby?"

Every once in a while i hear a knock at my door, and little Na peeks in.

"Na! Em khoe khong?"

"Khoe..." Then she proceeds to show off her drawing skills, virtually ruining every pen i own. But, as i've learned in this life, you can't say no to a five year old girl (unless she's yours). So the sixteen dollar brush pen is offered as a sacrifice to kindergarten art. She's actually quite artistically inclined, so the pen didn't die in vain.

RIP Kurt Vonnegut

Thanks for helping to make me who i am. I hope to see you in the big spaceship in the sky.


"lovemaking, if sincere, is one of the best ideas Satan put in the apple she gave to the serpent to give to Eve. The best idea in that apple, though, is jazz."

-Kurt Vonnegut

Dear Maid

Dear Maid,

You dingbat. Do not set drinks on my drawings. I appreciate the sixth cup of coffee, but i'd rather not have wet rings on my work. Also, i don't understand your vietnamese ramblings no matter how loud you speak, and I am too busy for your drivel. Oh, and when you burn trash, make sure you watch it so it doesn't burn down half the yard like the other day. And unless i ask for it, please keep the mayonnaise out of my eggs, you tragic failure of social Darwinism.

heh, that was fun.

Vietnamese tongue twisters

If you're interested in hearing My's alliterative poems, click here and here.

My's Dad

During the war, My's dad was a military police officer for the south vietnamese in Hue. He was stationed there during the reoccupation of Hue after the Tet Offensive in 1968. One day, his sister went to market and never came back. She was an unfortunate victim of a bombing mission. There wasn't any of her body left to be found. My's dad filed the report himself.

After the war, My's dad was captured and imprisoned by the north vietnamese. He was brought to Saigon and put in a "re-education" camp (read: prison). His sentence was five years. But( and this earns him mountains of respect from me) he escaped after a year and a half. He couldn't register with the government to work, so he went into the illegal business of transporting and selling the bark of a rare and state-protected tree. The bark fetches a good price as a fragrant incense, but the frequent run-ins with the police meant a lot of lost merchandise.

It's hard to know how My's dad feels about the war. He is a very relaxed and sociable guy, and he only seems to be interested in drinking beer with me. I do know though, that he's not a fan of Ho Chi Minh. He feels that the government has deified Ho to ridiculous proportions, and that he wasn't really all that.

I find it oddly interesting that the only opinion My has voiced about the war was that it was a huge waste of money.

The Food

My favorite vietnamese dishes-

Banh Xeo- a prawn and sprouts omelette that you roll up with lettuce and mint and dip in nuoc mam (fish sauce) and chilies. damn good.

Banh Cuon- pork and greens rolled up in a gooey steamed rice tortilla

Clams- you shuck a clam and chop it up with spring onions and peanuts. put it back in the half shell with some spices and put it on the grill. When it's good, it's heavenly.

Bun(noodles), grilled pork, spring rolls greens, carrots, and peanuts drizzled with nuoc mam.

Pho, pho, pho.

Sugar cane wrapped in shrimp paste and baked. Then you wrap it up in lettuce and greens like Banh Xeo.

Bun Bo Hue- beef noodle soup.

Mangosteens- if you've never had a mangosteen, your life is incomplete. This is my favorite fruit evar!

Che- a cold sweet rice soup with green algae gummy worms. If that sounds gross to you, then there's more for me.

Karaoke Engrish

The english sections in the karaoke songbooks here are an endless source of amusement.

The people who type them up obviously don't know what they are typing. Sometimes the song title just ends in the middle of a word. "...eh, they'll get it.."

You can imagine our surprise when Dave and I discovered that Elvis Presley actually sang a song called "You ain't Nothing but a Ho".

Coconut Thieves

Every evening My and I go outside by the river and play badminton or drink tea at a makeshift cafe run by two guys who are always watching Chinese martial arts films. The dogs, of course come with.

Like clockwork, the coconut boat comes by every afternoon to deliver the goods to the neighborhood. Every evening, My whispers to the dogs in french (they only understand french), "get the coconut!" It's incredibly amusing to see these two dogs sneak up to the pile of coconuts , snag some and trot back. They are GOOD. They haven't been caught once.

I suppose this practice of ordering dogs to steal things is unethical, among other things. But you can't argue with a pile of free coconuts.

Vietnamese Blue

When I was in college, my friends and I made up a random cultural joke aimed at our Portuguese friends. It was that Portuguese people couldn't tell the difference between green and blue. There's obviously no truth in this, but the sheer ridiculousness of the joke made it endure, and I still like to refer to green things jokingly as "portuguese blue".

Well, it turns out that Vietnamese people actually can't tell the difference between green and blue. The word "xanh" refers to both green and blue. You have to add a modifier to the word, such as "like the sky" or "like a leaf" in order to make the distinction. Why didn't they just make up another word? Who knows? Why is the sky green?

The Maid

Turns out the maid is only slightly sharper than a marble, bless her heart. I stop just short of calling her an imbecile.

She does everything wrong, and is helpful in all the wrong ways ( here- let me put mayonnaise on those eggs for you). She's like Tivo with preferences. Since she found out i like coffee, she makes coffee all day long. I have to manually program her, like a toy robot- or else she might bump into walls.

My is always frustrated with her. She should really just let her go, if not for the hours of fun My gets out of her. The maid asked her once what the color of a white person's blood was. My told her it was blue. So the maid goes to the neighbors with the exciting news. "No shit... BLUE!"

Poor, poor bonehead.

Cast of Characters

There are actually eight kids in My's family. Let me introduce you to the ones i know.

Hien is the baby at 21 years old. She is possibly the cutest sister too. She has frightful taste in music and when she's cleaning or cooking, she hums the Godfather Theme. I'm doubtful she's seen the movie. I don't know why it's stuck in her head. Now it's in mine. Thanks Hien.

Then there's Trang. She's 23. She has a thing for me. She would be very cute if she wasn't rail thin. She has a problem in her brain where she stays up all night thinking. It doesn't shut off. As a side effect from the medication she takes to stop her brain, she's lost a lot of weight.

Then there's Tuan, who is a wayward 25 year old boy. He helps around the house some, but mostly he just sleeps on My's couch. He's cool though. We get along in a guy way.

Then comes a sister who i don't know well, who is 27. She has a beautiful little girl named Na.

Then My at 30.

Then there's Vu, tailor wizard. My suit is fabulous, by the way. He's also made me some linen pants and some shirts. Go Vu.

Then comes a brother and a sister named Bit. Bit has a little 15 month-old. Last night for fun we tied his feet together and tried to get him to walk to us. And he did it, bless his heart.

All of My's sisters like to put their hands all over me, whether it be to pet me or to massage my shoulders. They even rest their head on me when they sit next to me. I like that. It's very nice.

The Move

View from my studio
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

I made the move to My's house.

It's so much more comfortable here. It's about 10 degrees cooler on the river, first of all. It's nice and quiet at night, and there's more space.

There are 6 bedrooms in this house. There's a big dining room and kitchen. There are two big living rooms, one with a fully stocked bar. My has a sweet desk i'm using, and the studio setup is more than perfect. My told the maid to call me "honey" and that i love mango shakes, which is true, so she makes them for me periodically and brings them up.

I'm well set up here. Come visit and we'll have margaritas and set up the badminton in the street.

Anatomy of my Apartment Building

My apartment building is an ecosystem all to itself.

Next door to me the tenants run a small hair salon in their apartment. The teenage girl who lives there walks around in a purple nightie all day, and in the elevator she always tries to talk with me in vietnamese. We can tell each other that we are fine today and that the weather is cooler, but that's about it.

Across the hall is a makeshift classroom for kids learning english. The door is always open during class, and the kids are always totally distracted by me when i'm coming in and out of my place. Just like kids sitting in classes anywhere i guess- any distraction is welcomed.

The guy who runs parking always gets pissed at me for coming home too late, but then he likes me again in the morning.

People on the first floor run little eateries out of their apartments. You can also buy convenience store type items. They are always changing prices on me. But that's fine because it's not consistently more, and i think it's kinda funny.

Many people around here think it perfectly normal to walk around in their pyjamas all day. There's one old guy who refuses to wear actual clothes ever. He's even got bedroom slippers.

There's a restaurant around the front where four mute sisters work. All four, totally speechless. It's cool to see them communicate with their hands. They are so good at it. I'm sure that while they were growing up they had lots of practice together.

Brad and Angelina

Yep, they're here adopting some poor kid.

How well can you handle that thing , Brad? This is MY town, jerky. I'll take you on any day. Meet me under the train trestle in Thu Duc at midnight...

In the meantime, order your wife some pork chops. Eat, girl.

Rain

Today when i woke up from a nap, i was startled that i didn't hear the clink of dice in a bowl outside. What? The game guys NOT playing "the game"? Inconceivable.

When i looked outside, I realized why. It was raining. I haven't seen rain in at least two months. After the rain it was cool and breezy- a welcome change. It looks a bit like rain now as well- here's hoping!

By the way, the game guys WERE still playing. They had just moved business into the first floor hallway.

The Heat

Let me illustrate how hot it is here during the day.

If you were somehow magically transported along with central Florida to the surface of the sun, and then you put on every piece of clothing you owned and sat next to a space heater, you might understand.

My's House

My's House
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

My's house is a palatial villa on the Saigon river. She's got a housemate who is never there, and a live-in maid. It's a comfortable spot just outside Saigon proper. I'm seriously thinking about moving operations over there. It's much more comfortable and spacious, plus the maid makes all the food, as well as just about everything else around there. I would be well taken care of. It's hard to find a reason not to, really.

Kids in my apartment building

Kids
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

Lon, Thuy, and Hung.

So now the question is posed- based on the photos i've taken, who are the cutest kids? Japanese, Thai, Cambodian, or Vietnamese? hmmm? Pick just one, i dare you.

Sorry China and Laos. You'll get your chance.

My's Parents

When My was 12, her Dad started taking a fancy to this 19 year old girl. So much so, that he invited her to live in their home. I don't know exactly what was said between My's folks, but the arrangement was allowed, mom with her bedroom, and dad's love den in another. Apparently mom had her hands full raising dad's seven kids, and didn't have the time to care about what dad was up to. She was 30 years old.

The girl stayed for two years. Eventually her dad decided he didn't want this girl anymore, and that he just wanted his wife.

Mom: "ok, whatever."

And they're still together.

Open Letter to Vietnamese Coffee

You brazen temptress. Why do you taunt me? You know i am powerless against your rich flavorfulness. I shall drink you black so as to ponder your delicate intricacies, your unapologetic deliciousness. You are my weakness, my sin, the light by which i travel into this and that- shall i put you into a to-go cup, so we might be alone?

Update

I didn't get enough time in Hue. I had to get back down here to get to work, unfortunately. We really only had the time to call in on some of My's relatives. I bought her aunt some flowers for Women's Day, and she gave me some jackfruits from her stall in the market. I'll be back to Hue, for sure. It deserves to be explored thoroughly.

A couple days later Dave Frazer arrived. And it's been a hilarious time ever since. We've been racing around town, hitting all the fancy scenes and hanging out with the beautiful people. We have both separately and collectively expressed our firm belief that Vietnam undoubtedly has the most beautiful women on earth. If there's a higher concentration of loveliness in this world, i don't need to know about it. I might short circuit.

My has been up in Quang Ngai working out her restaurant stuff. She'll be back on Saturday, and i'm really excited to see her again. I've missed her.

Mobile

Since I've gotten more used to this city, i decided to do the inevitable and get my own motorbike.

I am a terror on these streets. I'm as crazy as the rest of them. I have near collisions every ten seconds. I hop curbs and ride on sidewalks in order to go the wrong way on one-way streets. I make u-turns in the middle of the street in the thick of traffic. I cut off buses and ambulances. I am disrespectful to all traffic signs. I am a proper Saigonite.

Hey you.

Haven't heard from many folks. :( Go buy a microphone and call me on Skype. It's an order. Come on people now, smile on your brother.

The Vietnamese and America

"The American War was a contest between organized modern technology and organized human beings. The human beings won." -Howard Zinn

No one here seems to harbor any ill will towards America.To the Vietnamese, the Americans are just one more world power that tried to control Vietnam in a long series of wars. Over hundreds of years, Vietnam has remained Vietnam, despite the efforts of China, the Mongols, Japan, France, and the US. The vietnamese haven't the time to waste on grudges. They would be pissed at half the world.

I've been asked casually if my father was here during the war. I've been told many times how great my country is. It's as if the war never happened. My landlord is a Hanoi native in his fifties. He spent ten years in Moscow (doing god knows what), so his Russian is way better than his english. Looking in his eyes while he's explaining the phone bill, i can't help but think that if i was standing in front of this man 35 years ago, he would be doing his very best to kill me. But now he's renting out a room to me and fixing my air conditioner.

On the train back from Hue, i communed with the countryside outside the window. The Hueys that once peppered the skies have long since ceded the airspace back to the waterfowl. Staring in to the cool green expanse of the rice fields, i tried to imagine myself as that young GI with the buzzcut and coke-bottle glasses, wading through the elephant grass, M-16 at my hip. I must admit it was difficult. It's just so serene and beautiful. It's hard to imagine anything horrible happening here, ever.

The Vietnamese have fought vigorously for these beautiful shores, the green hills, the quiet valleys. I'd say it was a worthwhile endeavor. Due to the tenacity and iron will of these people, Vietnam will forever remain vietnamese. Get used to it.

Up North

Inlet near Danang
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

On Wednesday we rode up to Hue from Hoi An, the old imperial capital of Vietnam. On the way, a beer truck overturned up the road ahead of our bus. The traffic was backed up for miles on this rural mountain road. After about a half hour, My had what turned out to be a stroke of mad genius. Somehow she knew the traffic wasn't going to move, and she said we should hike up the road three miles past the wreck and get some one to take us the rest of the way on motorbikes. I love this girl.

We left all the suckers back at the bus, and the walk was cool and refreshing. When we got to the wreck, My went up to the driver and told him that since he had caused all this trouble and made us walk all the way up this hill, he should give us a beer. And he did. Did i say i love this girl?

We found folks to take us easily, and we got to Hue 45 minutes later. The bus didn't arrive for four hours.

Lightbox?

A lightbox is absolutely crucial to my work. Without one, i might as well find another profession.

The search for one in Saigon has been at times aggravating, other times frustrating, and always nerve-wracking. Everyone acts like they know what it is and where to get one, but they haven't a clue. I printed out a picture of it and i've been pounding the pavement. One lady asked me if it was for karaoke. Another guy asked me where i put the CD in. No, guys! The concept is simple! A box, with lights in it! (flicking fingers like lights)

For two weeks i couldn't find one anywhere. I was scheming on how to make one with the glass from my table and a desklamp, when i finally found one in a medical supply store today. Hallelujah.

I'm flying up to Danang and Hue to meet up with My tomorrow for a couple days. She's opening a restaurant up there.

Visitor

It looks like I'm getting a visitor- Dave Frazer is flying into Saigon at the end of this week. He's in for it. He won't be the same when i'm done with him.

Mississippi My

My is a shark attack on a pool table. I can't beat her. The game ends too quick. I'm trying to figure out how i can make money off her, touring the states. When she wins, she taunts me by singing the Vietnam soccer chant- "Viet Naaaaaa-aam! Viet Naaaaaa-am!

I'm better at darts.

Skype handle

I got my high speed internet, so now i can talk on Skype. My handle is HowellGolson.

Talk soon.

Mauvais Chien!

My has a German shepherd named Theo and a black lab named Abbie. I love to hear her chastise them in French.

Last night, My's sister Hien found Theo eating her pet hamster in the living room. Hien went running throughout the house crying, and her other sisters were following her trying to console her. My flew into a gallic tirade. I don't know what she was shouting at this dog, but i know i don't want to be on the wrong end of it. She's 90 pounds of whoop-ass. Hell hath no fury.

Vertical Ray of the Sun

This is a good vietnamese movie. It's extremely beautiful at least. I mention this movie because My and her sisters are a lot like the sisters in this movie. "Cyclo" tackles a grittier side of life in urban vietnam, and it's also worthwhile.

My, Mon Coeur

Mon Coeur
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

So here's My. She hates the camera, so i have to take bandit shots. I uploaded another pic on flickr.

She studied voice at Saigon Conservatory, and cosmotology in Paris, so consequently she sings like a bird while she coiffs a mean do. She gave me the best haircut of my life without me saying a word, and her sisters gave me a MAN-icure and a pedicure. Man, i look sharp.

By the way, a vietnamese shampoo is amazing. It's more like a head,face,arm massage for at least 25 minutes. I was transported to an alternate dimension.

Afterwards her brother the tailor came over to take my measurements for my sharkskin suit. My said, "I want you to look like James Bond, mon cherie."

I'm on my way.

Vietnamese Wedding

I went to a wedding of a friend of My's yesterday (sorry still no pic of her, soon i promise). It was alot like a western wedding , except they hired singers and dancers dresed up in traditional clothes. There were people dressed like dragons too. There were maybe 12 courses of food at the reception. So much food, i had to stop by course #5. One of the courses was a giant baked fish. My whispered to the server that I REALLY like the head- I mean, REALLY love fish heads. When the server set my plate down in front of me with that fish staring up at me, My laughed so hard, she actually peed herself.

My Apartment

My apartment
Originally uploaded by toy ghost.

Well she ain't much to look at, but she's home. I live in District one, which includes downtown and the adjacent De Tham area, which is where i live. It's been a struggle to get what i need. The ADSL internet is coming, but not without a fight. The AC remote keeps giving me problems, and My has been bitching out the landlord about charging me too much. That's my girl, tough as nails.

I got a cellphone, and the number is 0903063092 if you want to talk to me. I'd love to hear from you of course. Remember though that i'm 15 hours ahead of Pacific time. So if it's 1 PM there, it's 4 AM here.