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.)