Sunday, January 07, 2007
Last day of Asia Trip
In a few hours, I will be ending my two-month journey through Hong Kong and southeast Asia, flying via Hong Kong to Amsterdam.
I feel a bit torn. I'm sad to have no more exciting destinations to visit and people to meet but I also long for the comfort of my friends, my own bed and familiar surroundings. I consider myself very blessed to have been able to experience this fascinating part of the world which is so different to the world in which I live.
Some life lessons learned:
1) Money can buy the conditions for happiness, peace of mind and safety. Several times I was caught in stressful situations eg. missing trains, buses and tours, being stuck in bad hotels and all I had to do was show some good ole greenbacks and the problems disappeared and solutions mysteriously appeared. I don't mean to sound materialistic but it's true.
2) Throughout life, one should occasionally leave one's comfort zone to travel somewhere with different beliefs, customs and traditions. Asia was fascinating largely due to its zen-like atmosphere where confrontation, anger and aggressiveness between people are largely frowned upon. People identify strongly with family and society here and more focus is placed on the collective good, although this is slowly changing.
3) I love coming from a multicultural society!! At times, I found it exhausting to be in such homogenous places where everyone comes from a similar racial, ethnic or cultural background. Life is much more interesting when you share your streets, communities, public transportation with different people. The fun is in learning to live and work together. I love watching Chinese movies, ordering pizza, listening to African music on my ipod, visiting Caribbean family members, enjoying American thanksgiving.
4) On a more political note, after seeing the effects of an ill-advised American war with Vietnam, I am firmly against any military aggression which is not based on a direct threat to an invading army, notably the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq. Thirty years after the Vietnam War, this country is still coming to terms with the death and destruction its people endured. On the train ride from Sapa back to Hanoi, I passed a man with a mine sweeper searching for mines in a field.
On a more personal note, in Hoi An, my friend Tommy took me to an orphanage where children born with Agent Orange-related birth defects are looked after. It was so depressing to see these children, some with heads twice the normal size and twisted bodies lying in cribs. After getting over my horror, fear and even disguest, I stroked the leg of one of the little boys. Human contact is a wonderful thing. His eyes, which were moving all over the place, immediately focused on me and a smile slowly spread across his face. His eyes sparkled. Maybe I'm being selfish but that moment was probably more significant for me than him. I felt such compassion and for the first time in a long time, I wanted nothing more than to bring someone much less fortunate than me some happiness and comfort.
I feel a bit torn. I'm sad to have no more exciting destinations to visit and people to meet but I also long for the comfort of my friends, my own bed and familiar surroundings. I consider myself very blessed to have been able to experience this fascinating part of the world which is so different to the world in which I live.
Some life lessons learned:
1) Money can buy the conditions for happiness, peace of mind and safety. Several times I was caught in stressful situations eg. missing trains, buses and tours, being stuck in bad hotels and all I had to do was show some good ole greenbacks and the problems disappeared and solutions mysteriously appeared. I don't mean to sound materialistic but it's true.
2) Throughout life, one should occasionally leave one's comfort zone to travel somewhere with different beliefs, customs and traditions. Asia was fascinating largely due to its zen-like atmosphere where confrontation, anger and aggressiveness between people are largely frowned upon. People identify strongly with family and society here and more focus is placed on the collective good, although this is slowly changing.
3) I love coming from a multicultural society!! At times, I found it exhausting to be in such homogenous places where everyone comes from a similar racial, ethnic or cultural background. Life is much more interesting when you share your streets, communities, public transportation with different people. The fun is in learning to live and work together. I love watching Chinese movies, ordering pizza, listening to African music on my ipod, visiting Caribbean family members, enjoying American thanksgiving.
4) On a more political note, after seeing the effects of an ill-advised American war with Vietnam, I am firmly against any military aggression which is not based on a direct threat to an invading army, notably the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq. Thirty years after the Vietnam War, this country is still coming to terms with the death and destruction its people endured. On the train ride from Sapa back to Hanoi, I passed a man with a mine sweeper searching for mines in a field.
On a more personal note, in Hoi An, my friend Tommy took me to an orphanage where children born with Agent Orange-related birth defects are looked after. It was so depressing to see these children, some with heads twice the normal size and twisted bodies lying in cribs. After getting over my horror, fear and even disguest, I stroked the leg of one of the little boys. Human contact is a wonderful thing. His eyes, which were moving all over the place, immediately focused on me and a smile slowly spread across his face. His eyes sparkled. Maybe I'm being selfish but that moment was probably more significant for me than him. I felt such compassion and for the first time in a long time, I wanted nothing more than to bring someone much less fortunate than me some happiness and comfort.
Meeting Uncle Ho face-to-face
If you ever get to Hanoi, the most fascinating museum in the city is the brilliant Ethnology Museum. The museum is quite new, opened by Jacques Chirac, and provides information about Vietnam's many ethnic groups, their histories and lifestyles. I particularly enjoyed the section of the museum which details life under heavy communist rule in the 1970s and 80s, including the rationing system. Everything was regulated by the central communist government: how much rice you ate, if you received a bicycle, radio or TV, what you could buy for Tet (important national holiday). I remember visiting the Communist Museum in Prague and feeling horrified and sorry for the Czechoslovakian people under communism but it's all relative. Compared to the Vietnamese, the Czechoslovakians lived like kings! In fact, one of the dreams of most Vietnamese during this period was to be able to travel to the Soviet Union or the Eastern bloc countries to eat well and buy goods to bring back home. Unbelievable!
Yesterday, I did a Ho Chi Minh morning. For those of you who don't know, Ho Chi Minh was a revolutionary and founding father of Vietnam's independence movement and communist party which is still the national government. Coming from the provinces, he studied in France (which was then Vietnam's colonial power) and became an independence activist and journalist. He later trained in Russia as a Comintern and returned to Vietnam to lead a nationalist party and command the war of liberation from the French. For anyone who knows anything about Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh or Uncle Ho is the most revered historical figure among Vietnamese, young and old.
I visited his impressive mausoleum which is the most popular tourist site in Hanoi. There were long lines snaking around the complex which is heavily guarded by soldiers. Inside, a perfectly-preserved Ho lies on a beautifully-carved wooden berth in a simple communist party suit. Apparently, he is shipped off to Russia every fall for an embalming touch-up. I was hustled quickly passed him but it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. The closest thing to a a religious experience that communist Vietnam can provide. Next, I visited Ho Chi Minh's simple wooden house on stilts where he preferred to live which is located next to an imposing, yolk-coloured Presidential Palace. Located conveniently close is the Ho Chi Minh Museum which combines an overview of the suffering of Vietnamese people under French colonial rule with a fascinating photo gallery depicting resistance, independence and communist rule under Ho.
Yesterday, I did a Ho Chi Minh morning. For those of you who don't know, Ho Chi Minh was a revolutionary and founding father of Vietnam's independence movement and communist party which is still the national government. Coming from the provinces, he studied in France (which was then Vietnam's colonial power) and became an independence activist and journalist. He later trained in Russia as a Comintern and returned to Vietnam to lead a nationalist party and command the war of liberation from the French. For anyone who knows anything about Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh or Uncle Ho is the most revered historical figure among Vietnamese, young and old.
I visited his impressive mausoleum which is the most popular tourist site in Hanoi. There were long lines snaking around the complex which is heavily guarded by soldiers. Inside, a perfectly-preserved Ho lies on a beautifully-carved wooden berth in a simple communist party suit. Apparently, he is shipped off to Russia every fall for an embalming touch-up. I was hustled quickly passed him but it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. The closest thing to a a religious experience that communist Vietnam can provide. Next, I visited Ho Chi Minh's simple wooden house on stilts where he preferred to live which is located next to an imposing, yolk-coloured Presidential Palace. Located conveniently close is the Ho Chi Minh Museum which combines an overview of the suffering of Vietnamese people under French colonial rule with a fascinating photo gallery depicting resistance, independence and communist rule under Ho.
Final days in Hanoi
What a crazy few last days. Sapa was beautiful but extremely cold and I was in no way prepared clothing-wise for the winter-like conditions there. I did have a fleece and spring jacket but it rained non-stop and my hotel (open-air concept with my room door facing an outdoor corridor) was heated but draughty.
To keep a long story short, I ended up getting a wicked cold and being bed-ridden with a high fever and runny nose. I took the decision to leave Sapa and return to Hanoi (and the comfort of my hotel) early, taking the 10-hour day train instead of the overnight train. The complication was that there were no first-class sleepers or berths available on such short notice so I was herded into what I would characterize as the "cattle cars": the cars that normal Vietnamese use which are benches made of wooden slats with no cushions. (I did mention that the journey took 10 hours, right?!) So I show up and am confronted with hundreds of Vietnamese faces staring incredulously at me ('What the heck is she doing here?) I took my seat under the gaze of a crowd of eyes.
The journey actually turned out to be okay and it gave me a chance to have a bit of contact with Vietnamese people beyond the usual tourist exchanges. A few people practised indeciferable English, more shared their food and still others just walked back and forth along the train car to have a glance. Two tips for future travellers to Vietnam: bring plenty of food as only strange, unappetizing snacks are available on the journey and have a catheter or pouch inserted so you don't need to use the toilets on the train. O learned the hard way. After my small stash of cookies and mints ran out, I had to purchase some terribly-tasting local snacks and over-priced water. Then, I had to use the bathroom. All I can say is "oh my gosh". I have travelled to a lot of places but that train's bathroom was by far the most disgusting toilet I have ever encountered in a public space. To the point that I was retching the whole time from the concentrated amonia-like smell and used a bottle of hand gel to sanitize my hands. I am happy to report that my bladder is good and strong as I refused to go again until I was back in my hotel room.
During the train ride, several young women seemed to take an interest in me and became quite friendly. One who sat across from me took pity on me and shared her thick wool blanket with me: she using it as a pillow, me using it as a cushion for my very sore butt. Another came and sat beside me. I was sitting beside the window and I noticed that when I got up to stretch my legs and came back, she was sitting in my place so I sat down beside her. We both kind of dozed off with her resting her head on my shoulders. I didn't want to wake her up so I sat quietly.
However, just as we were about to disembark, I checked my zippered pocket where I kept a wad of cash plus an envelope containing my passport, credit card and ATM card. My cash was gone (about US$30 worth) but thankfully, everything else was there. The only person who was anywhere close to my pocket was that woman. Panicking, I tried to explain to my fellow passengers that my money was gone but no one spoke English. I tried to confront her but she kept looking under the seat and pointing to the bathroom as if I should check there. She then quickly gathered her bags and left the train.
I am sure it was she who stole my money. The worst part wasn't losing the money. It was my illusion that I was having genuine contact with local people and then realising that it was a scam. So, lesson to all of you, do not blindingly trust strangers, especially in poor countries where locals see all tourists as rich and privileged, and always keep your guard up. Put money and valuables in inside pockets while on buses and trains and keep your eyes on your stuff.
I've been reading a lot about Buddhist philosophy on this trip. According to it, I should interpret the situation in a neutral way. It's neither good nor bad that the theft happened. I should perceive it in a non-negative way. Perhaps the woman needed the money (definitely more than me) for some important person. And (this part I like due to my small wish for revenge), she will receive her come-uppance because karma is the name of the game. What goes around comes around.
I literally staggered off the train, having lost all feeling in my butt about half-way through the journey, rolled into a taxi and sped off to the lovely De Syloia hotel to enjoy my last days in Hanoi.
To keep a long story short, I ended up getting a wicked cold and being bed-ridden with a high fever and runny nose. I took the decision to leave Sapa and return to Hanoi (and the comfort of my hotel) early, taking the 10-hour day train instead of the overnight train. The complication was that there were no first-class sleepers or berths available on such short notice so I was herded into what I would characterize as the "cattle cars": the cars that normal Vietnamese use which are benches made of wooden slats with no cushions. (I did mention that the journey took 10 hours, right?!) So I show up and am confronted with hundreds of Vietnamese faces staring incredulously at me ('What the heck is she doing here?) I took my seat under the gaze of a crowd of eyes.
The journey actually turned out to be okay and it gave me a chance to have a bit of contact with Vietnamese people beyond the usual tourist exchanges. A few people practised indeciferable English, more shared their food and still others just walked back and forth along the train car to have a glance. Two tips for future travellers to Vietnam: bring plenty of food as only strange, unappetizing snacks are available on the journey and have a catheter or pouch inserted so you don't need to use the toilets on the train. O learned the hard way. After my small stash of cookies and mints ran out, I had to purchase some terribly-tasting local snacks and over-priced water. Then, I had to use the bathroom. All I can say is "oh my gosh". I have travelled to a lot of places but that train's bathroom was by far the most disgusting toilet I have ever encountered in a public space. To the point that I was retching the whole time from the concentrated amonia-like smell and used a bottle of hand gel to sanitize my hands. I am happy to report that my bladder is good and strong as I refused to go again until I was back in my hotel room.
During the train ride, several young women seemed to take an interest in me and became quite friendly. One who sat across from me took pity on me and shared her thick wool blanket with me: she using it as a pillow, me using it as a cushion for my very sore butt. Another came and sat beside me. I was sitting beside the window and I noticed that when I got up to stretch my legs and came back, she was sitting in my place so I sat down beside her. We both kind of dozed off with her resting her head on my shoulders. I didn't want to wake her up so I sat quietly.
However, just as we were about to disembark, I checked my zippered pocket where I kept a wad of cash plus an envelope containing my passport, credit card and ATM card. My cash was gone (about US$30 worth) but thankfully, everything else was there. The only person who was anywhere close to my pocket was that woman. Panicking, I tried to explain to my fellow passengers that my money was gone but no one spoke English. I tried to confront her but she kept looking under the seat and pointing to the bathroom as if I should check there. She then quickly gathered her bags and left the train.
I am sure it was she who stole my money. The worst part wasn't losing the money. It was my illusion that I was having genuine contact with local people and then realising that it was a scam. So, lesson to all of you, do not blindingly trust strangers, especially in poor countries where locals see all tourists as rich and privileged, and always keep your guard up. Put money and valuables in inside pockets while on buses and trains and keep your eyes on your stuff.
I've been reading a lot about Buddhist philosophy on this trip. According to it, I should interpret the situation in a neutral way. It's neither good nor bad that the theft happened. I should perceive it in a non-negative way. Perhaps the woman needed the money (definitely more than me) for some important person. And (this part I like due to my small wish for revenge), she will receive her come-uppance because karma is the name of the game. What goes around comes around.
I literally staggered off the train, having lost all feeling in my butt about half-way through the journey, rolled into a taxi and sped off to the lovely De Syloia hotel to enjoy my last days in Hanoi.
