Phai di honey do di do.

My prefers that i drive everywhere, because she feels people think she's a prostitute if she drives me. I wish sometimes she'd drive, because she gives vague, and sometimes late directions.

Today I was driving along and My suddenly slapped me and pointed furiously and said what sounded like "fie-dee-honey-doody-daw!"

I had to stop the bike entirely. "Fie-dee-honey-doody-daw?" What the hell is a DOODY-daw?

I figured out what she was saying. "Phai(right) di(go) honey(me) do(do it) di(go) do(there)."

I've been laughing about it ever since. Fie-dee-honey-doody-daw, indeed.

Phun

I really could've saved my parents a lot of time and money if this was out when i was a kid. All i ever really wanted for christmas was a 2-D Physics Sandbox . I can't stop playing with it. I made a steamboat that runs, and a waterfall that replenishes itself. So much phun.

See the video here.

I killed it with Whiskey.

Yes , it's dead. And I killed it with whiskey. Could've just been it's time to go, but I'm giving the liquor the glory. It was a sweet pill too.

Let this be lesson. Whenever you're in doubt or waivering, whenever you've fallen to your knees because there's been no where else to go, use your last ditch effort to say "Yes, I CAN!"

and kill it with whiskey.

General's Letter From the Field

March 1, 2008. 6:43 PM

The disease has dug in deeper than I had thought, and defies our every attempt to remove it from its position. I have never encountered so crafty- so resolved- an enemy. Stocks are dwindling, morale plummeting.

But before I surrender my sword to this vile enemy, I have one last plan of battle:

HEAVY DRINKING. That's right, I'm calling in General Johnnie Walker. Firebomb the foxholes. If doctors and medicine can't help me, I'll kill it myself, goddammit! It can't make it any worse.

The enemy is in front of us, and behind us. They are to our right and on our left.

This time they will not get away.

Inner Space

So i got some crazy vietnamese medicine for my illness, and i wonder if the bottle lists "brain teleportation" as a side effect, because i think i've lost it. Last night while laying in bed I convinced myself that I'd discovered the cure for gravity, as well as linear, physics-based travel. I was in deep. They really should've warned me. I'm not sure how much more of this weirdo disease I can take.

On the whole though, I'm feeling better, so don't worry too much.

Another thing

Robbery has been a hot topic recently. Hien's fiance got his cellphone stolen, as did Trang. Trang had spent all her savings , $400, on her new phone, only to have it stolen out of her pocket.

A couple weeks ago, My and I went to have coffee with this guy who had called her up. He was a friend of a friend, and My had only met him twice. So when we got there he was all weird that i was there, so i guessed he had wanted to be alone with her. He asked to use her phone because his battery was dead, took it into the hall, and we never saw him again.

Is the world such a bitch that we have to steal our friends' phones to get by? Is it really that rough? What a jerk.

Serious Hurt

Things have been rough lately. I've been really ill with the Jomba Womba Blackwater Fungal Virus for the past four days. I've been hallucinating like crazy. I woke up the other night convinced i was on an alien world, participating in some sort of alien death sport. I seriously did not remember where i was for twenty minutes, and it really scared me. At another point I thought I had two different identities/ manifestations and I could switch in and out of the two different bodies at will. Both were really sick.

Last night at some point, some guy climbed three stories up the side of the house and crept into the room in which we were sleeping and stole my camera and two phones. I have no idea when this happened. I wasn't sleeping much, so it surprises me i didn't wake up. The German Shepard was right outside the bedroom door.

So adding insult to injury, there will be no more photos until i get another camera.

Oh yeah, I also have this tight deadline on a project i haven't started. Last night i got a computer virus because My wanted to see Paris Hilton naked, and the computer won't start. So hooray for me.

I'm going back to bed.

Except I won't sleep, if not because of the Voodoo-Swamprot-Fever i have, then because of the noise the neighbors are making with their new karaoke get-up they bought using the money they got from selling my camera.

Nga

Nga is a girl who lives here. She is from the countryside in the mountains outside of Hue. She has a bubble wrap fetish, and she shares Hien's attraction to the Godfather Theme- so she walks around the house popping bubble wrap and humming the Godfather theme.

But that's neither here nor there.

In the countryside of Vietnam, daughters still fetch a price from the groom. Since the bride's family is losing a fine, sturdy work animal, they need something in return, you know?

So listen up parents- this is what your daughter is worth:

10 cows.
5 ducks.
$30,000,000 dong ($2000)

This is how much a person is worth. If Nga gets married, this is what her family gets.

You might be in Vietnam if...

There is ice in your beer. On purpose.

There is a duck's tongue in your soup. On purpose.

When large trucks back up, you hear them play "jingle bells" as an alarm.

There are 2-3 unknown people living in your house.

Everywhere you go, you see random playing cards scattered on the pavement.

Your living room is clogged with motorbikes.

You hear "we wish you a merry christmas" as someone's ringtone.

People steal your dog to eat it.

People steal your cat to eat it.

Vietnamese Grilled Mussels

Do yourself a favor and try this. It's way easy.

Get a bunch of your favorite fresh bivalves on a half shell. I recommend mussels, but clams will do. Set them aside.

Sautee some green onions in some oil (or butter) and drizzle all that on the mussels. Then crush some black pepper in a small dish and generously squirt lime juice all over that and mix it together- for the dipping. Add some crushed chilis if you like that.

Then place the mussles on the grill (still in the shell) and grill them for a bit. While you're doing that, roast some peanuts in the oven. Crush the peanuts and sprinkle them on the mussels when they look done. Add some cilantro if you like.

Ngon lam- an di!

Engrish Songs

Southeast Asians don't know alot of songs in english, but the ones they do know they like A LOT. Here's a countdown of the top favorites in Vietnam.

4.) Country Roads- John Denver
I don't understand the appeal. It's an old, fairly obscure, bad song. I guess it's not horrible, but nothing explains to me why every single person in Vietnam knows the words.

3.) Zombie- The Cranberries
Again, I don't get it. It's one of those songs I was done with in the first few listenings back in the 90's. They go batty over this song here, and i even learned it on guitar to satisfy all the requests for it. If I hear it one more time, I'm offing myself.

2.) Hello- Lionel Richie
Finally something i can get behind. I'd prefer "Easy", but I'll take what i can get.
At least once a day I hear somone singing this song. I think they like this song because it's a sad love song in a minor key. For some reason that strikes a chord with these people.

1.) Hotel California- The Eagles
I swear to God, if I have a nemesis in this world, this song is it. I have heard this song so many times here, I have developed an intense, living relationship with it. I have analyzed the grammar in every verse, I have conversations with it, and i think i could sing it word for word, back to front. It dwells in the dark domain of my nightmares, and I am interred in its prison of torment.

I stab it with my steely knife but i just can't kill the beast.

The Mekong Delta

We went to Ben Tre in the Mekong Delta for a couple days to visit an unending string of relatives.

Life in the Mekong Delta progresses at the pace of a retarded, pregnant water buffalo. In fact, you have to use time lapse photography to make sure it's moving at all. It's a vietnamese farmer's life there- not a single luxury. My's relatives have all manner of food animals, fruit trees, and random thatched buildings, though. While out exploring the grounds, I felt like I was going to stumble upon a squad of G.I.s with zippos, kicking pigs out of their way- it was just like the movies.

At one point I was stuck drinking with an uncle and his buddies while My went off to gut a chicken or something. These unruly characters virtually forced me to drink from an unmarked bottle. They said it was vodka, but brother, it AIN'T vodka. No vodka looks like pond water. Then i realized that the heap of meat in a bowl on the table was actually a barbecued goat head. Who eats a goat head? Gross, guys.

Then the uncle scooped out the eyes and plopped them in my bowl. He told me - through sign language- that if I ate them, I'd get an erection (?). I guess he meant I'd be all virile. Nevertheless, my running rule is that if I know it's an eyeball, and I watch it being plucked from the socket, I don't eat it.

Later I discovered that I was sitting amidst a group of Former Viet Cong guerrilas. They were very proud and excited to tell me- one of them ran home to get his medals. "See?- I killed me a buncha you guys!"

The whole scene took on a surreal quality for me. Here I was in the middle of the Vietnamese countryside, the only American in the company of six drunk, unpredictable Viet Cong freedom fighters. It felt like that scene in The Deerhunter, except I was saved by lunch before the pistols came out.

They all were nice enough though. None of them were at all phased to learn that I was American. Not a flinch from any of them. That seems really strange to me. I wish I could crawl into their heads and see what's really going on.

Chuc Mung Nam Moi!

Chuc Mung Nam Moi!
Originally uploaded by toy ghost

It's officially the year of the rat. You wouldn't believe the amount of Mickey Mouse rip-off merchandise.

Last year was the year of the golden pig. It only comes around once in a hundred years, and it's supposed to be very lucky for the person who is born during it. Consequently, couples got pretty busy last year- so busy that come year end, the hospitals were full. They had to turn people away.


This year is the Earth Rat. This is a picture of me as a Fire Rabbit, before i realized I am actually a Wood Rabbit. I was crushed - fire rabbits rule.

The Fruit!

I'm posting this so I can make a list of the fruits that I see on a daily basis. I eat at least five of these each day.

Pineapple, Soursop, Oranges, Limes, Clementines, Rambutan, Durian, Jackfruit, Strawberries, Apples, Cherries, Mangosteens, Dragon Fruit, Passion Fruit, Star Fruit, Bananas, Longan, Lychee, Star Apple, Mango, Green Mango, Polemo, Sapodilla, Papaya, Custard Apple (yum), Guava, Watermelon, Water Apple.

That's not all i'm sure. I keep discovering new ones, and some I don't know the names of yet.

Suoi Tien

Originally uploaded by toy ghost

Check your sanity at the door kids, you are now entering Saigon's only insanity-themed amusement park, Suoi Tien.

Take every crazy dream and fantasy you've had about Asia, and add a generous dose of Alice in Wonderland, and you've got Suoi Tien. I felt like i was walking into an Asian version of Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.

They've got buildings shaped like dragons, enormous turtles, a waterpark inside a mountain, a Unicorn Palace, the Forest of the Magician's Kingdom, rollercoasters that go underground, and an Imperial Dream Castle.

They even have a haunted pagoda where you can descend into Vietnamese hell.

After experiencing Vietnamese Hell, I have come to the conclusion that Vietnamese haunted houses are the scariest haunted houses ever conceived. I have several reasons for that.

1). The confusion factor. I don't understand what these demons are screaming at me. If i understood, perhaps i could reason with them.

2.) The Vietnamese have a different scale on which to judge scariness. It has to be damn frightenening to pass as scary in Vietnam.

3.) The special effects are so low budget, I'm not even sure they're special effects. That girl's entrails looked really convincing.

After that I had to chill out by visiting the Crocodile Kingdom, where i relaxed by feeding vicious maneating crocodiles pork livers on the end of a stick.

Cu Mum

This boy is My's sister's kid. His name is Mum. But that's not his real name. Mum is short for "Cu Mum", which translates to, no joke, "Odd Penis".

Apparently he's got a strange looking penis, or at least he did as a baby, and the women in the family wouldn't let it go. So here he is at thirteen, still unable to shake this awful nickname. I think I'd disown my family for that. Whenever he's talking to girls he has to answer to "Odd Penis" when his family talks to him. It's such a tragedy.

Banh Chung

Banh Chung
Originally uploaded by toy ghost

Banh Chung is a traditional food for Tet. It's a "cake" of sorts, made from pork, green beans, and rice- all wrapped up in banana leaves and steamed. The packages are cooked over a fire in a huge aluminum cooker for 20 hours. Then they are offered as gifts to friends and family for new year.

My's mom made tons of these. She's the only one in the family that knows how to make them. When she's gone, there'll be no more Banh Chung. I asked My why she never learned.

"I'm not around much."

Sounds like a cop out.

Thank you for grabbing my tit.

The french word "beaucoup" sounds dangerously close to the vietnamese words "bop yeu" ( lit. "grab tit"). So to the untrained vietnamese ear, "merci beaucoup" might as well be "thanks for grabbing my tit." Whenever someone says "merci beaucoup", Na tattles to her mom, because that's just vulgar.

Singing Battles

Every morning here, without fail, someone in the house will start singing some vietnamese song. Then Hien, in another room, starts singing another tune of her choosing. Then this girl Nga who lives here gets infected and is compelled to sing another song. Soon the house sounds like a Vietnamese radio that's been tuned in between stations.

I've learned my own Vietnamese song so that i don't feel left out.

Great to be a Vampire

We were biking through the jungle on Phu Quoc, both silent and lost in our thoughts, when My suddenly spoke up.

"Great to be vampire here , huh?"

"ummm....wait- what did you just say??"

"Great to be a vampire here. You can go at night, hunting animal, drink their blood."

Weirdo. It was like i was talking to Nicole Linde for a minute there.

My also has a uniquely colorful way of expressing herself sometimes. Even if she doesn't know the right words to say, the story still goes on. One time she was trying to tell a story about an exotic dancer. She said, "you know the girl who dances in the tree?"

"umm...no." I must admit, I've never seen, heard of, or even thought about a girl dancing in a tree. Then i realized she was talking about pole dancing. The story went on from there, but I was was still stuck pondering the image of a girl dancing in a tree. I still don't recall the rest of the story.

Phu Quoc

Phu Quoc
Originally uploaded by toy ghost

Just got back from a four-day trip to Phu Quoc Island, and whether i needed an attitude adjustment or not, i got one. I'm looser than Granma's underpants.

Whenever I start raving about somewhere i go, My gives me a dismissive look and says, "Howell likes every place." Well, I suppose that's mostly true. Howell likes a lot of things. That being said, here it goes:

Phu Quoc is a piece of gold. It's wildly beautiful, the water is warm and clear as bath water, the people are inviting, and the beaches and snorkeling are world-class. But the thing that sets Phu Quoc apart from a Thai or Hawaiian island is not its beauty- it's the fact that there's nobody there. Phu Quoc has, until now, virtually avoided almost any tourism. It is completely off the tourist circuit, so much that many people don't even know it exists. Granted, there are a few resorts and places to rent bungalows. But for the most part the roads are unpaved, and daily island life goes on undisturbed.

My and I spent most of the time exporing the beaches, waterfalls and jungle. The jungle is full of monkeys and wild pig, and the trees are crawling with orchids. Although i never read any literature about it, My also insists there are tigers. All along the coast of Phu Quoc are little fishing villages where you can buy fish. We bought My's Dad a huge bag of dried squid. It's all you, Duc. Eat up.

One evening on the beach we happened upon a family roasting a Phu Quoc wild pig who insisted we join them. All we had to do was help them reel in their fishing boats, using a foot-pedaled wooden pully.

If you go to Pok Pok on Division in Portland, you can try their delicious Phu Quoc chicken wings. The only difference between Pok Pok and Phu Quoc is that in Phu Quoc they use REAL Phu Quoc fish sauce, which blows Pok Pok's sauce out of the water. Try them anyway. They're great.

Now I'm back in Saigon, gearing up for Tet. The excitement is building, and you can feel it everywhere. I for one am very excited. It's going to be really fun.

Kwassaki

Kwassaki
Originally uploaded by toy ghost

Yep. You saw it here first, folks. KwASSaki.

The New House

My's new house is what I might call Neo-Retro Viet Chic. It is at once like a Venice beach house from the eighties and a vietnamese spaceship. It's built like a tree- straight up. The stairway (stem) the goes straight up the middle has landings (nodes) at half-floors that lead to bedrooms and bathrooms (branches). I love it. It gets lots of light, it has great cross-ventilation, and dammit, i feel like i'm in a spaceship!

More photos later. I'm going to the beach.

The Build-up in Traffic

Ok, about the traffic. It has become all kinds of wrong. It's like high-stakes gambling every time I get on the road. All the new cars and trucks are making the roads extremely dangerous.

First of all, people are driving cars as if they were motorbikes- meaning that they don't follow any rules and jockey for position the same as everyone else. Whereas before you might be riding along, and all of a sudden a motorbike came right at you against traffic- Now you have to contend with a less shy SUV. It's also harrowing yet thrilling when you have to thread the needle between a bus and a truck and get through before one merges in front of another. It's all utter madness. John Woo or Ringo Lam should film an action movie here.

There's been no great attempt at a mass transit system here yet. Whatever is in place is a rusting heap of sadness in a failure sauce. Saigon needs an elevated train NOW.

Hoogo map qua...

While going around town saying hi to My's relatives and friends, I've noticed that there's a trend to their reactions to seeing me. Almost across the board, the first thing they say is something like, "Hoogo map qua" (Howell's all fat). So I've gained a few pounds... I mean, it IS possible my gut might be getting large enough to have its own name. Then they might add the fact that I'm fish-belly white. So, I'm a fat white man.

Apparently that's a good thing here. They love fat. And white too, actually. So really it's a compliment. Although I'll be lean and brown pretty soon.

Phu Quoc

My and I got tickets to fly to Phu Quoc Island tomorrow. They call it Phu Quoc, but I refer to it as Phu Q, as in "Phu Q guys, I'm goin to the beach!" It's off the coast of Cambodia in the Gulf of Siam, and is considered Vietnam's premier resort spot. It's supposed to be pretty great.

By the way, Florent the monkey is history. My wasn't digging it either. It was fun for maybe an hour, like Monopoly. Actually, if not for the screaming and biting, we might've been good pals. But Florent buddy, you picked a different road. Via con Dios.

Saigon Today

Saigon is changing rapidly. It's changed alot since i left even- just six months ago.

Some of my old haunts are shut down, with other, bizarro joints in their places. High-rise buildings have sprouted up everywhere, and some streets are almost unrecognizable. There must be at least double the number of cars, and the traffic is really becoming an uncontrolable social evil.

Vietnam has instated a helmet law though, to the protestations of just about everyone. Someone is doing a good job of designing some stylish helmets though. My suggested i buy a bunch, paint designs on them and sell them. I think it could go over really well.

I'm gauging the rapidity of Saigon's growth first-hand. It's mindboggling. In a few years, Saigon, Vietnam is going to be a totally modern city and a VERY cool place to be.

Feeling Better

Thanks to the gracious attentions of My and Hien I am feeling much better now. I tell you what, there's nothing better for what ails you than a couple vietnamese women armed with spicy soups. I pity the flu.


We've been laying around listening to the palm trees brush against the balcony, and it's been quite cool here on the river. My is renting a new house which i'll talk about later. It's all very pleasant here, all except for this damn monkey My bought. He's not long for this world.

I didn't get an acceptable answer when i asked her why she bought this thing. She was driving around town and saw it on the side of the road for sale for 80,000 dong ($5) I guess she just decided that it was time to have a monkey. It's a total bastard and i'll have none of it. It hardly ever leaves you alone, and if i leave the window/vent in the bathroom open at night, he gets into the bedroom and harasses us. And pees. And poos. And then you have to catch him to get him out. But he don't wanna go out. Damn this monkey.

I may soon have blood on my hands.

Troi oi

So i didn't do much in Phnom Penh because i've been furiously sick. I literally couldn't get out of bed all day the other day due to a lovely fever. I tell you one thing, traveling around in Southeast Asia while feverishly ill SUCKS.

I made it to Vietnam though, but My never got my email and my phone was dead so i waited around for an hour and then got a taxi to My's folks' house. They were excited to see me, but i felt bad because i was so ill. Not an entrance i would have wanted.

My took me home though and is taking care of me. Freshly squeezed OJ. Strawberry shakes. Pirated DVDs.

Incidentally, when the vietnamese dub a movie, for some reason they only use one actress for all of the voices. And she doesn't even try to differentiate between the characters, or include ANY emotional nuances. I don't know how the vietnamese can understand it. Looks and sounds very confusing to me. Another thing i wonder about is the fact that there's only ONE woman who does this for each and every movie dubbed in vietnamese. Is it because the industry here is so cheap, or is this girl just so good the public demands her? Who IS this girl?? I gotta find out.

Phnom Penh

PhnomPenh- city of writers, spies, dissidents, bloody military coups, pirates, and women so fast they demonstrate the doppler effect. This is quite possibly the rawest, most lawless place on the planet. I'll be here for a few days. I can't help myself. Keep me in your prayers.

For a good bit of the afternoon i've been sitting in a rattan chair on top of the Foreign Correspondents Club, drinking vodka and clamato. A little later I think I'll be ready to go fire some guns. Maybe even a rocket launcher. There's a place you can do that, no lie.

Garcon! Take me to bang bang!

I'll get it all out of my system soon. Just need a fix.

Korean love

The flight was with a Korean carrier, which was a cool experience. They keep you fed, that's for sure. And what do you think was on the in-flight tv? That's right- Korean soap operas- 4 glorious channels. And what did i do for most of the 16 hours to Cambodia?

You know what i did. I ate beef bowl and kim chee and watched Korean soap operas.

Korean stewardess: You want something drinks?

Cambodian passenger: Please to have we ate.

stewardess: you ate?

cambodian: no, WE ate.

stewardess: you want something drinks?

cambodian: Yez, WE ATE- tomato juice!

[canned laughter]

Bon Voyage

Leaving tomorrow morning for Phnom Penh, Cambodia, via Seoul, Korea. Next time you hear from me, I'll be sipping cocktails on the Raffles Hotel terrace overlooking the Mekong, looking like a young Mark Twain.

I leave you with this Lemon Jelly tune. Bisous!

Princess Satoko

Shinashi Satoko is Japan's mixed martial arts queen. She is 26-2, and has only been beaten by this girl down below, Hisae Watanabe. Watanabe has some sweet muay thai kicks, but Satoko is a bulldog!

Watch this video of this little girl (4'8") beating the tar out of all these poor women. A couple guys have to carry one of these girls away... I think I'm developing a severe crush.

Hadouken!!

Bangkok Pop

Loving the Bangkok pop. This is Groovy Airline. I like the way they blend the stylings of E.L.O. and Stereolab and sing it in Thai.

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.